Chapter 10

Stella paced the room, her hands clenched into tight fists. The rage inside her was boiling over as she replayed Sylvester’s cold rejection in her mind. Again, he had dismissed her as if she meant nothing. Her chest heaved with every breath, the fury swirling with something darker, hatred. How could he do this to her after everything? How could he be so blind to what she was capable of?

Her eyes burned with the memory of him, how he didn’t even look her in the eye when he walked away. This was the last straw. She grabbed her phone and dialed the number of one of her cohorts, her fingers trembling with anger.

The phone rang twice before a low, gravelly voice answered, "Yeah?"

“You idiot,” she spat into the phone, her voice a sharp whip of fury. “You said you disabled the cameras in Sylvester’s house before we went in. What the hell happened?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a nervous shuffle. “I—I did, Stella. I’m sure I did.”

“Then why is he acting like he knows? He’s too close to figuring out it was me. You screwed up, and now I’m the one paying for it!” Her voice rose, venom in every word.

“Look, I did what you asked—"

"Shut up!" she cut him off. "I’m not paying you the full amount, you hear me? Not when you nearly got me caught. Consider yourself lucky 'cause you’re not getting anything at all.”

“Stella, wait—"

The call ended with a sharp click as she tossed the phone onto the bed. Her heart raced, but the pressure in her chest had eased slightly. She took a deep breath, collected her things, and slung her bag over her shoulder, determined to get out of the hotel.

As she marched down the hallway and into the lobby, the receptionist, a young woman with an air of impatience, stepped in her way.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the receptionist said, blocking her path. “You need to settle your bill before you leave.”

Stella stopped, glaring at the girl. “I barely used the room for thirty minutes. That’s hardly worth what you’re charging me.”

The receptionist didn’t flinch. “The time doesn’t matter. You used the room, so you need to pay. Time is money here.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t the only one in there. You can’t pin this all on me.”

The receptionist crossed her arms. “That’s not my concern. You used the room, and you need to pay for it.”

“I’m not paying for half an hour,” Stella shot back, her voice icy. “Find someone else to harass.”

The receptionist’s face hardened, and she picked up the phone. A few moments later, two security guards appeared, their expressions stern as they approached her.

“You’re going to want to settle this quietly,” one of the guards warned, stepping closer.

Stella felt her pulse quicken as the two men loomed over her, ready to make a scene. She opened her mouth to argue again, but before she could speak, a calm voice cut through the tension.

“I’ve got it.”

A man stepped forward, tall and composed, pulling out his wallet as he approached the counter. He handed the receptionist a card and offered Stella a small, reassuring nod. The receptionist swiped it without hesitation, and after a moment, the tension dissolved.

“There,” the man said softly, “it’s settled.”

Stella looked at him, her anger momentarily forgotten, replaced by confusion and a strange sense of gratitude. She hadn’t asked for help, but now that it was given, she felt oddly at ease.

“Thank you,” she muttered, though her pride bristled at the words.

The man simply smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Stella standing there, her bag still slung over her shoulder. She shot one last glare at the receptionist, then stormed out of the hotel, her mind racing as she disappeared into the night.


Stella stepped outside, the cool night air doing little to calm the fire still burning inside her. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she made her way to the street. That man... who was he? And why had he helped her? Her mind churned with suspicions. Nothing came for free, especially not in her world.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her from her thoughts. It was another message from Sylvester, a single line that sent a fresh wave of anger crashing through her.

“This won’t end well for you.”

She nearly crushed the phone in her grip. He had the audacity to threaten her now? After everything? After using her and tossing her aside whenever it suited him? She hated him, hated how he always had the upper hand, how he made her feel powerless.

But not anymore. She was done playing the fool. She glanced up and down the street, her mind shifting to her next move. If Sylvester was close to figuring out that she was behind the break-in, she needed to act fast. He couldn’t know she was involved—not yet. But when he did, it would be too late for him to do anything about it.

Stella’s plan was far from complete, but she had enough pieces in place to make her next move. She started walking briskly toward her car, parked a few blocks away. The night was quiet, the streets deserted except for the occasional flicker of headlights passing in the distance. Her mind buzzed with possibilities.

As she reached her car, she slid into the driver’s seat and sat for a moment, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel. She needed to make sure everything was airtight. Sylvester couldn’t just be eliminated—he needed to be ruined first, his power dismantled, piece by piece.

She picked up her phone again and dialed another number, this one to someone far more reliable than the idiot who’d botched the job earlier. The line rang once, twice, before a smooth, composed voice answered.

“Stella.”

“I need you to handle something,” she said, her voice firm, cold. “Sylvester’s getting too close. I want his accounts frozen, his assets tied up, everything.”

A pause, then a quiet chuckle on the other end. “That’s ambitious.”

“I’m paying you enough to make it happen. No questions.”

“Understood. You’ll hear from me soon.”

She hung up and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, the tension in her chest easing slightly. It felt good to have control again, to be the one pulling the strings.

As she pulled away from the curb, her thoughts drifted back to the man in the hotel. His face was etched in her mind now, though she couldn’t place it. He wasn’t anyone she recognized from Sylvester’s circle, nor did he seem like someone who knew her. But there was something about his calm demeanor, the way he had quietly handled the situation without expecting anything in return. It unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe it was something more.

Stella drove through the empty streets, her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign that she was being followed. The paranoia was always there, lurking at the back of her mind, especially now that things were escalating.

Her destination was clear: a small, private hideout where she could lay low and regroup. She wasn’t ready to confront Sylvester directly yet, not until every piece was in place. But when the time came, he would regret ever underestimating her.

As she pulled into the shadowed driveway of an old building on the outskirts of the city, she parked and sat in silence for a moment, staring out into the night. Sylvester’s words echoed in her mind once more—*this won’t end well for you.*

She smiled grimly, her fingers tracing the edge of her phone.

“Not for me, Sylvester,” she whispered to the darkness. “For you.”

And with that, she stepped out of the car, disappearing into the shadows.