Mr. Harlow, Don’t Rush to Make It Official

'Payment received: 200,000.’

The automated female voice echoed through the dim hotel room as the last traces of sunset faded beyond the window.

Stella Shaw’s fingers trembled as she buttoned her clothes.

At the sound of the payment notification, tears slipped silently down her cheeks and splashed onto the floor.

Taking her clothes off had been much easier than putting them back on.

But she’d already thrown away every last shred of pride and dignity an hour ago, the moment she’d sought Eric out.

Behind her, his low, raspy voice carried a hint of pity.

“Buy your daughter a decent burial plot.”

Stella bit down hard on the tip of her tongue until the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

“Thank you.”

No matter what had happened between them, she was genuinely grateful to him right now.

Eric lay back on the bed and lit a cigarette.

His buzz cut and the scar slicing through his left eyebrow gave him a dangerous, intimidating edge.

He eyes narrowed as he studied Stella’s body, still littered with marks, gradually covered by clothes.

His tone turned almost teasing.

“Aren’t you worried he’ll find out about us?”

Stella stiffened.

“I don’t care.”

She knew exactly who he meant.

Lucas Lawson.

But so what if Lucas found out?

He wouldn’t care.

He was too busy comforting the woman he’d never gotten over to give a damn whether Stella lived or died.

If Lucas had shown her even the slightest bit of consideration, with the kind of money and influence his family had, she never would've been pushed this far.

Besides, she and Lucas had divorced three years ago.

They simply hadn’t made it public.

Facing the mirror, Stella finished getting dressed and carefully fixed her messy hair.

She needed to look presentable when she saw her daughter off for the last time.

She turned and reached for her phone, only for Eric to catch her by the wrist.

He slowly exhaled a stream of smoke, his eyes fixed on her face. With the light behind him, his expression was impossible to read.

“Stella, why don’t you stay with me from now on?”

“Eric.”

Stella yanked her wrist free and looked at him coldly. Her eyes were still red, but there was a sharpness in them now.

“Have you lost your mind, or have I? You disgust me just as much as he does.”

Eric didn’t seem offended by the rejection.

He leaned back lazily, putting on an almost regretful expression.

“Cold. We’ve known each other for years, you know.”

“Sorry. I barely know you.”

Stella didn’t bother responding again.

She turned and walked out without looking back.

Eric got out of bed and walked over to the window, lighting another cigarette.

A few minutes later, a name flashed across his phone screen.

Lucas Lawson.

—

Eric casually tapped the speaker button.

“Eric, Steven told me you checked into a hotel with a woman. Who’s this mystery girl with enough charm to tempt Ravenwood’s famously celibate bachelor?”

Someone in the background laughed, joking that the eternal bachelor had finally caught feelings and telling Lucas not to interrupt the man’s fun.

Eric’s mouth curved into a grin.

“I’ll introduce you once I’ve won her over.”

Lucas burst out laughing.

“There’s actually a woman you can’t get?”

Eric smiled lazily, but his eyes were cold.

“Yeah. Someone else’s woman.”

The other end of the line went silent for a beat.

Then a chorus of shocked voices erupted.

“Holy shit!”

Eric hung up and crushed his cigarette into the ashtray.

He was just getting to his feet when something on the carpet caught his eye.

A broken bracelet.

The finish had already worn off in places. One glance was enough to tell it was cheap costume jewelry.

But half an hour ago, Stella had been wearing it around her wrist.

Eric bent down and picked it up.

---

After leaving the hotel, Stella went straight to the crematorium.

Once her daughter had been cremated, she used the money she had left to buy a burial plot by the ocean.

It faced the water, with nothing blocking the endless view.

If there was anything after this life, she hoped Mia would come back as a seagull.

Free to fly anywhere she wanted.

No more pain.

No more being trapped in a cramped hospital room, waiting to die.

Her daughter was finally free.

And so was she.

Stella stayed beside the grave until nightfall before finally leaving.

She stopped by the hospital to pack up her daughter’s belongings, then returned to the Lawson estate.

No one would believe that a woman living in a mansion couldn’t even come up with twenty thousand dollars for her own daughter’s funeral.

The lights were on inside the house.

The staff moved around doing their work and chatting among themselves.

When Stella walked in, not a single person greeted her.

She was used to it.

Without a word, she headed upstairs.

Behind her came the servants’ mocking voices.

“She’s got some nerve. The man doesn’t even want her anymore, and she still refuses to leave.”

“At least she gets to keep up appearances. Of course she doesn’t want to give that up.”

“I almost feel sorry for her. And her daughter was sick all the time. If I were her, I’d rather just die.”

A vase smashed against the floor beside them.

Shards exploded across the tile, cutting into several of their legs.

The servants cried out in shock.

Stella stood at the foot of the stairs.

Her face was deathly pale, making her dark eyes look even more chilling.

She stared straight at the women who had been talking.

Her voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like her own.

“Say one more word about my daughter, and I’ll tear your mouths apart.”

She didn’t raise her voice.

If anything, she sounded eerily calm.

But the servants felt as though something cold had wrapped around their throats.

They scattered almost immediately.

One of them still muttered under her breath as she fled.

“Please. She really thinks she’s the lady of the house. She’s nothing but a pathetic woman who’d crawl for Miss Moore if she asked.”

At the mention of Miss Moore, their tone became noticeably more respectful.

After all, everyone assumed Claire would eventually become the true Mrs. Lawson.

They were clearly saying it loud enough for Stella to hear.

She didn’t care anymore.

If her daughter hadn’t had leukemia, and if Lucas hadn’t been her only compatible bone marrow donor, Stella never would’ve stayed and let these people humiliate her.

She wasn’t insane.

Her body felt sticky and sore.

Expressionless, Stella went into the bathroom and took a shower.

Her skin was covered in marks Eric had left behind, bruises from his fingers and bites from his teeth.

As the water ran over her, the memory of being completely under his control came rushing back.

Her stomach turned.

She barely made it to the toilet before throwing up.

Disgusting.

When she was done, she flushed without a trace of emotion.

After her shower, she didn’t even have the strength to dry her hair.

She wrapped herself in the blanket and curled into a ball.

Between her daughter’s emergency treatment and the burial, she hadn’t slept properly in three days.

She’d thought she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

Instead, the moment she closed her eyes, she was out.

She had no idea how long she slept.

Somewhere in the haze, she felt someone tugging at her blanket.

Instinctively, she clutched it tighter.

Then something jolted through her, and her eyes flew open.

The bedroom was brightly lit.

A drunk Lucas was leaning over her.

When he saw that she was awake, he let out a low laugh.

“Finally awake? You sleep like you’re dead.”

Stella’s mind was sluggish from exhaustion.

It took her a second to understand what was happening.

Then she slapped him across the face.

“Get off me!”