Stella stepped out of the bathroom, her body trembling with discomfort. She tried to steady herself, but a sudden heat wave rushed through her.
'The alcohol from earlier... Had it been spiked?'
A sharp, cold sense of danger cut through her chest, and her heart began to race. She staggered down the hallway, but before she could get far, she collided with a man stumbling toward her. His eyes were glazed, his grin wide and unsettling. It was clear he'd been waiting for her.
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
Everything—everything—had been planned by Celine.
"What do you want?" Stella asked, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep her composure.
But already, her body was betraying her. Weakness seeped into her limbs, and her vision began to blur. The drug was kicking in full force.
The man let out a low chuckle, his voice dripping with hunger. "What do I want, bitch? Let's make tonight unforgettable, yeah?" He laughed again, the sound sending a chill down her spine.
Desperation surged within her. Stella stumbled back, but before she could get away, the man lunged, grabbing her wrist with a force that left her gasping.
Her fingers fumbled for her phone, her heart pounding as she dialed Dominic's number. The seconds dragged by, and all she could hear was the relentless, impersonal, busy signal.
'No... No, no, no…!'
Finally, Dominic's voice blared through the speaker when the call connected.
"How dare you call me—" he began, but Stella interrupted him.
"Dom, I've been drugged!" she gasped, her breath ragged, the words tumbling out in a rush.
There was a pause, followed by a cold, detached laugh. "Drugged? And then what? Are you trying to say some man wants to sleep with you?" Dominic's voice was mocking. "Find a better excuse for your lies, Stella. If you want to sleep with men so badly, why don't you go find a few more?"
The line went dead.
Stella felt her heart crack, the sound reverberating in her chest. Her body trembled violently, her skin pale, her breath shallow. She could barely hold herself up as the man's filthy hand reached for her again.
Panic surged like a tidal wave.
With little strength she had left, Stella grabbed the nearest hairpin, the cold metal in her hand offering her a semblance of control.
She slashed it across her arm. The pain was immediate, sharp, and blinding, but it cut through the haze of the drug, the effects starting to fade just enough for her to focus.
The blood welled up in a hot, crimson line, dripping to the floor. Stella gripped the hairpin tightly, her hand shaking, and held it to her neck.
"Stay away!" she shouted. "If you want to be a murderer, then come at me!"
Her eyes met his with an intensity that could've burned through stone. The fury in her gaze was as sharp as the hairpin in her throat, and her voice rang with a cold, unwavering determination.
She would die before letting him take even a sliver of her dignity.
The man hesitated, clearly startled by the fire in her eyes. He cursed under his breath, his face shifting from arrogance to fear.
Then, he turned and fled, muttering, "Crazy woman," as he disappeared down the hallway.
Stella stood frozen, her breath ragged, her pulse pounding in her ears. She waited, heart thumping until she was sure he was gone. Only then did she let out a long, shuddering breath of relief.
Her hands, still shaking, fumbled for her phone again. This time, she dialed the emergency number. But before she could press send, everything around her went black.
When she woke, the pain hit her first—a dull ache in her arm, a sharp throb in her stomach.
She groaned softly, her voice hoarse from the strain. "Ugh…"
A nurse rushed over, helping her sit up gently. Stella's vision cleared, and she looked down at herself. Her arm was in a cast, and there were signs of the drug still lingering on her pallor, the weakness evident in her body.
The nurse's expression softened with concern, but her tone showed a hint of disapproval.
"Miss," she said quietly, "you shouldn't be going to places like that. If you hadn't been clever enough to cut your arm and fight off the effects, you might've…"
The nurse trailed off, the unspoken words hanging like a heavy fog. She sighed deeply, as though she had seen this kind of thing too many times before, and walked away.
Stella gave a bitter, hollow smile. She hadn't asked for any of this. She had never wanted to end up in a situation like this.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. The screen lit up with dozens of messages from Dominic. When he finally couldn't stand the silence anymore, he called.
"Where are you?" His voice was tight, but the anger behind it was clear.
Stella didn't hesitate.
"The hospital," she replied flatly.
There was a brief, incredulous laugh on the other end. "So now you want to play the victim, Stella? Lying about being in the hospital to escape responsibility?”
He paused for a moment, and then his voice turned venomous. "When did you become like this? Do you even realize that Celine's depression has gotten worse because of you?"
Celine's voice dripped with sweetness on the other end of the line, like honey masking poison. She played the part of the concerned, innocent one, twisting everything to make it sound like Stella was the villain.
"Don't worry, Nicky. I'm okay. I just need some rest," Celine's voice cooed, so convincing it could've fooled anyone who didn't know her better.
Dominic's tone softened instantly, his usual coldness melting away. "Alright, baby. Get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."
But then, the change in his voice was unmistakable as he turned to Stella. His tone turned sharp and cold—like an order.
"Half an hour. Come to the hospital and apologize to Celine, or we're done."
Before Stella could respond, the line went dead.
Stella stared at the phone in her hand, numb. For a moment, she just laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. The laughter faltered, turning into tears, but something inside her hardened even as the tears fell. Her jaw clenched, and her eyes steeled.
Ten minutes later, Stella found herself in the hospital lobby, settling her bill. And just as fate would have it, she ran into Dominic and Celine.
When Dominic saw her in a hospital gown, his eyes widened in shock. But before he could process it, his anger erupted.
"You really are something else, huh?" Dominic sneered. "You think I'll pity you for this? Apologize to Celine right now!"
His words were like a slap, but Stella didn't flinch. She met his gaze head-on, unshaken.
"Why should I?" Stella asked calmly.
Dominic's face turned an angry shade of red. "You hit her, Stella, and you're asking why?"
"I didn't hit her," Stella said, her eyes locked on Celine. "You tell me—did I hit you?"
Celine flinched, her eyes wide with fear as she ducked behind Dominic, her body trembling.
"Nicky, I'm scared…" she whimpered.
But Stella saw through it—the fear was a show, a façade. Behind her trembling eyes was the smallest smirk, just enough to make Stella's stomach churn.
"Enough!" Dominic bellowed. "You're still trying to intimidate Celine in front of me?"
Stella didn't flinch. She pushed his hand away and stood tall, unaffected.
With a calm that sent a chill down the hallway, she walked toward Celine.
"You want me to apologize?" Stella's voice was ice-cold. "Fine. Here's my apology."
Celine's face turned pale.
Her eyes were full of panic as she stammered, "S-Stella—"
Before Celine could finish, Stella slapped her hard.
