While she was in a daze, the man seated beside her had been observing her all the while.
She was dressed formally for an interview and had light make-up on which made her look more alert
and brighter.
Because it was an interview in which she did not need to showcase her dance skills, she wore a pair of
high heels, which was extremely rare for her.
Stella seldom wore high-heels, and she wasn’t very familiar with them. Her discomfort with it was clear
when she walked, yet she wore it with a unique flair.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Weston shifted his position and lounged leisurely on the couch.
Stella shook her head. “Nothing much.”
“You want to join their games?”
Stella heard the threat in his voice and lifted her head, looking at him in frustration.
She held herself back and forced out the words a moment later, “Mr. Ford, how can I help
you?”
Weston furrowed his brows, disliking how she addressed him.
He lifted her chin and said, “Why don’t you call me Weston?”
“Sure, Weston,” She said submissively. Weston released his fingers. “Pour me some alcohol.” Stella
stood up, walked towards the marble counter, and randomly picked a bottle of champagne.
Weston glanced over it. “Another one.”
“What do you want to drink?”
“Anything will do.”
Stella’s hand paused in mid-air.
She knew that he was very picky, despite verbally saying that he was fine with anything. He was like
this when they were married, too. Each time when Stella asked him if there was
anything he wanted to eat in particular, he would always reply with “Anything will do.”
Yet, after preparing a whole table of delicacies, she noticed that he wouldn’t even bother sparing a
glance at the dishes that he didn’t fancy.
This man was just like that – Unwilling to reveal his innermost desires, and making others guess it
instead.
Each time after she spent all the effort to guess his preferences correctly, which earned her a favorable
response from him, she would always be very happy. The Stella of the past would go through fire and
water as long as Weston gave her even a little bit of warmth.
She would never do so ever again.
Her gaze trembled slightly as she served the wine glass to Weston. “Is red wine alright?”
Weston remained silent, clearly not satisfied with her offer.
But since she had already poured it out, he accepted it without a further word. When Stella sat back
down, Weston gave her a look. “Come over. Feed me.” 1 Stella’s pupils dilated as she looked at him in
disbelief.
He had never requested her to do something so bold, even when they were physically intimate.
Weston was very satisfied with her shocked reaction. He grabbed her hand and pulled her on his lap.
He held her chin and turned her head towards the other end of the private room.
“Look at how the other women serve the men.” Stella was forced to stare right at the pairs of men and
women behaving intimately towards each other.
In addition to feeding wine, they were even feeding each other food through their mouths.
Amidst their merry-making and games, the physical intimacy became increasingly intense. Women who
pleased the men immensely one second would find themselves flung aside or to another man
mercilessly in another second, just because of a minor mistake.
This was something that Stella had never witnessed before in her life. She stared dazedly at the scene
before her and began to struggle. Weston turned her around. “Do you know the right way to feed me
now?”
She turned pale, her mind still in a blur, and she felt her limbs growing weak.
She had been deliberately avoiding the scene before her, but what Weston did just now made her take
a clear look at everything that was going on in the room.
She could clearly feel that in Weston’s eyes, her existence was no different from those women who
were objectified as tools of pleasure for men. She held the wine glass with trembling hands. “I got it…”
She tipped the wine glass forward and poised it next to Weston’s lips. Taking a deep breath, she said,
“Mr. Ford, will this do?”.
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