Cross My Tigress Face the Wrath (Stella)

Stella had been head over heels for Ronald for what felt like forever. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when her feelings had shifted from sibling affection to something deeper. Her fondness for him, built up over the years, had seeped deep into her bones. Catching Ronald's slightly hazy gaze, Stella's heart skipped a beat.

"Ronald," she whispered, her voice barely a tremble.

If he were sober, maybe she...

But he wasn't. Especially after those nights when he'd drink himself into oblivion, forgetting everything that happened. If they crossed a line now, despite him being the initiator, she couldn't help feeling like she was taking advantage of him. "I'm no saint. Please, snap out of it," Stella choked out.

But in the next moment, her small hand was effortlessly pinned above her head. As her nightgown was pushed up, Stella felt as though her blood had turned to ice.

She grabbed his strong wrist firmly. "Ronald, Ronald."

But then, he seized her hand in his, leaving her no room to struggle.

The room's temperature seemed to rise with the heat emanating from Ronald's skin. Desire filled the air, making Stella's breaths quicken.

"Star, just relax," he murmured in a deep, slightly raspy voice.

Hearing him call her 'Star' sent Stella's mind into a frenzy. Did he know who he was with?

Looking at Ronald's face-the most beautiful she'd ever known-Stella whispered back, "Ronald."

In that moment, her last shred of reason snapped.

Ronald held her wrist with one hand while gently tracing the outline of her cheek with the other.

"Good girl," he said, his eyes clouded yet gleaming as if he'd found a treasure.

Their warm breaths mingled, and Stella was lost in Ronald's tender, blurry gaze, her last bit of sanity slipping away.

...

An endless night passed.

At six in the morning, Stella looked

at the sleeping Ronald and was completely dumbfounded. She noticed the bruises on her chest and arms-vivid marks of the previous night's wildness.

She sighed deeply. What had she done?

Then she noticed Ronald's gray scarf, tangled beneath her, stained with vivid red reminders of last night's escapade. Stella covered her face.

"This is a disaster," she muttered, her voice laden with panic.

The passion had faded, leaving only troubling clarity. What now?

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. It was a call from Finley.

Glancing at Ronald, still lost in sleep, she picked up the phone and stepped into the bathroom to answer. "Hello, Finley."

Finley's frantic voice came through

"Were you guys sleeping like the

almost broke your doorbell.

How's your brother?"

Stella froze, speechless. What could she possibly say?

Seeing the marks on her neck in the mirror, she was even more startled. She had really done it with Ronald...

What now?

"Star, Star?"

"Huh?"

"I asked how your brother is doing. Hull mentioned someone might have drugged him."

Stella

ha choked on her response. So, it belongs to en.kikistorient

had been drugs. No wonder Ronald hadn't been himself. If he

even remember last nighContent

The thought that Ronald might not recall anything brought Stella a strange mix of relief and despair.