Cross My Tigress Face the Wrath (Stella)

Ronald insisted on checking Stella for injuries, and sure enough, she was hurt- though not severely. After he finished examining her, Stella hid under the covers again. "You need to leave now."

Ronald chuckled softly and moved to pull the blanket off her head once again.

Stella fought back like a wildcat. But in the next moment, her movements halted abruptly.

His cool lips pressed against hers, leaving Stella's eyes wide with shock.

It was over in an instant. Just as Ronald began to pull away, Stella suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt.

Amused, Ronald asked, "Not enough?"

Her face, already flushed from a fever, seemed ready to burst into flames at his words.

She tried to meet his gaze, her toes curling, and stuttered, "Are, are you... are you sober right now? Do you even realize what you're doing?"

She sniffed the air, trying to detect any hint of alcohol on him.

He hadn't been drinking. He was sober...

And just now, he had actually!

The thought of being pinned down on the bed by him sent Stella's heart into overdrive. The distance between them seemed to stretch far beyond that of normal siblings. So, what did this mean for them?

Ronald gently ruffled her soft hair. "Scared?"

Stella grabbed his hand tightly.

"It was you who made the move last night," she said with firm conviction.

Though her words carried blame, in her heart, she knew last night had left her with no way out. But deep down, she felt a mix of reluctance and willingness.

Ronald gently squeezed her hand and kissed it. "Yes, it was me."

His tone was indulgent, soothing the turmoil within Stella's heart.

Unknown to others, the events of last night had left Stella in a state of complete anxiety. With Ronald under the influence of alcohol and drug, she had feared he might deny everything afterward. Hearing his words now brought tears to her eyes.

She leaped out from under the covers and threw her arms around his neck. "You scared me to death."

"Hmm?"

"I thought you'd deny it. I thought you'd be mad at me..."

Earlier, when Finley tried to peek under her scarf, she had been terrified.

The thought of others discovering what had happened between her and Ronald during that night- their moment of passion- was unbearable.

Stella cried, feeling wronged.

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Ronald gently patted her back, his voice tender yet tinged with a deep and helpless affection. "Silly girl."

Stella sobbed. "You're mean."

Ronald snorted with laughter and gently removed her arms from around his neck, tucking her back under the covers. "I'll get you some medicine."

Stella finally felt at ease, having repeatedly confirmed Ronald's acknowledgment. The turmoil in her heart settled at last.

Finley was waiting in the living room downstairs.

Seeing Ronald come down, he extinguished his cigarette. "Where did she get hurt? You're quite something, letting someone get injured under your watch. Did those

people come here?"

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At the mention of "those people," Ronald's expression turned icy, giving Finley a chilling glance.

"Do you think that's possible?"

Finley swallowed hard. "I was just saying, it couldn't be."

He knew full well that with Stella here, Ronald would never let harm come to her.

But then, Finley pressed on, "How did she get hurt?"

"Fever medicine... and something for the tears."

Finley blinked.

What?

"Tears? What kind of tears?"

The question seemed to send a shiver down his spine. His mind raced to the memory of Stella's excessively wrapped scarf. Was it what he was thinking?

Ronald's voice dropped, now laced with a cold warning. "Do you always need to pry?"

That sharp, intense gaze froze Finley in place. He swallowed nervously, then his mind nearly exploded at the implications.