Chapter 7

Stella's POV

Three days left.

I went to the salon and chopped off the long hair I had kept for five years.

Justin used to love playing with my long hair, saying it felt like fine silk. Because of that single compliment, I had kept the same hairstyle for five years, spending thousands of dollars a month on hair treatments.

But now, looking at my sleek, shoulder-length bob in the mirror, I felt lighter than ever.

Leaving the salon, I met my only close friend in New York, Nora, at a Michelin-starred restaurant.

"Are you really doing this?" Nora looked at my short hair, her eyes red. "Moving to San Francisco? What about Justin? You literally almost died for him, and now you're just handing him over to that ex on a silver platter?"

I raised my wine glass and downed it in one go. The burning liquid slid down my throat, settling into a dull ache in my chest.

"Nora, he's not worth fighting for," I said, setting the glass down with a self-deprecating smile. "He already married Chloe on paper. If I stay, what am I? His mistress?"

Nora's eyes widened in shock. She slammed her hand on the table. "That piece of trash! I'm going to the Lane Group headquarters right now and exposing him to everyone!"

"Don't," I said, catching her hand. My eyes were cold and focused. "Arthur gave me full authority over the San Francisco branch, plus a massive payout for my stock options. Trading a garbage man for all of that is a steal. If we make a scene, the deal might fall through."

As a risk expert, I always knew how to minimize losses.

My heart was bankrupt; I couldn't afford to lose my financial leverage too.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the table.

It was an Instagram notification. Chloe had posted.

In the photo, Chloe was wearing an extremely luxurious custom wedding gown, standing in front of a massive mirror. Reflected in the background was Justin, sitting on a sofa, waiting for her.

The caption. "He said even if it's just a formality, he wants me to be the most beautiful bride."

I stared at the post and calmly pressed the heart icon.

Less than a minute later, Justin's call came through.

I answered and put it on speaker.

"Stella, where are you?!" Justin's voice was filled with panic and desperation. "Let me explain! Chloe has a charity gala next month and needed to borrow a dress. I only came along to help her choose. It's not what you think!"

His voice carried a guilt he didn't even realize he was projecting.

I leaned back in my chair, looking up at the restaurant's chandelier. My voice was sweet and perfectly calm. "I know. The gown is gorgeous. It suits her perfectly. You've always had great taste."

The other end of the line went dead silent.

Only Justin's heavy, erratic breathing filled the quiet air.

"Stella..." Justin's voice began to tremble. "Don't talk to me like that. Please, just yell at me. Don't use that tone..."

"Justin, I'm having dinner with a friend. I have to go."

Ignoring his unraveling sanity, I hung up.

Half an hour later, the door to our private dining room was slammed open.

Justin stood at the threshold, drenched in sweat, his tie askew, his eyes bloodshot. When his eyes fell on my short hair, all the strength seemed to drain from his body. He had to grip the doorframe to keep from collapsing.

"Your hair..." His voice shook, his eyes wide with terror.

"It was getting too long and was a pain to wash, so I cut it," I said, standing up and grabbing my coat from the chair.

I looked at him as if nothing were wrong. "What are you doing here? Weren't you helping Chloe with her dress?"

Justin suddenly lunged forward, locking me in a suffocating embrace. He held me so tightly, as if trying to fuse me into his bones.

"I'm done helping her. No more dresses, ever again," Justin sobbed, burying his face in my shoulder. His voice cracked. "Stella, let's get married. Let's go register tomorrow! I'll transfer all my shares to your name. Just marry me!"

I let him hold me, my arms hanging uselessly at my sides.

I stared at the painting on the restaurant wall, my heart completely flat.

Register tomorrow?

Did he forget he was legally another woman's husband? Bigamy is a felony. He could go to prison for that.

"Sure," I said, gently patting his back. My voice was as sweet as a dream. "But not tomorrow. I have to hand over my final risk assessment reports tomorrow. Let's do it in a few days."

Justin pulled back, his eyes lighting up with joy. "Okay. In a few days, I'll plan everything. I'll give you the most romantic proposal ever."

I looked down, hiding the mocking smirk in my eyes.

Too bad you don't have a few days left.