Chapter 55 - Stella #2
“Stella!” His roar splits the air, sharp enough to rattle the glass in the windows. “You think you can ruin me? You think you can strip me down and leave me with nothing?” Spit flashes at the corner of his mouth as he jerks forward, every word snapping like a lash.
Then he sees her—Elaine—our hands locked tight, our stance unbroken. His face twists, a mask of betrayal and hate. His voice lowers for half a breath, guttural, shaking with fury.
“With her?” His whole body trembles, veins straining at his neck as the words rip out of him. “You fucking dare stand with her? That snake? That whore who crawled into my bed? You think you get to humiliate me, to flaunt the mistress in my face like I’m nothing?”
His rage detonates, louder, hotter, until the walls themselves feel like they’re vibrating with it.
“I’ll burn it all down before I watch you walk away with her.
You hear me, Stella? I’ll bury you both before I let this be how it ends!
You think she can take my place? You think she can stand where I stood? Over my dead fucking body!”
The words slam into me, sharp enough to split bone. For a moment, I feel myself folding inward, breath knocked shallow, that old instinct to shrink under his storm clawing back through my chest.
Then Elaine’s fingers tighten around mine—firm, grounding, and unshakable.
I draw in a breath, square my shoulders, and lift my chin. The tremor in me hardens into something venomous, something that cuts sharper than his rage.
“Remember, Donovan—you wanted a villain. Here I am. You wanted me and her. What you get is me with her. And don’t forget—karma has no deadline.”
For a moment, silence. His mouth parts, but no sound comes out. He chokes on the rage that fills him. The weight of my words hangs heavy in the air.
Then it hits. His face contorts, blotched red with fury, eyes wild and unhinged.
A sound tears out of him—half laugh, half scream—before words tumble, jagged and raw.
“You think you’re untouchable?” Donovan spits, his voice shredding itself apart.
“You think the world won’t see you for what you are?
A liar. A whore. A cold-blooded bitch playing queen on a throne that was never clean. ”
His chest heaves, eyes gleaming wild and hateful. “Stand there with her all you want—it won’t save you. I’m coming for everything, Stella. The house. The cars. The business. Every last drop of Carrington blood money you hide behind.”
He leans forward, a cruel smile twisting his face. “And when I’m finished, the whole goddamn world will know exactly what the Carrington name really stands for.”
Something in me snaps. My body surges forward before I can think—rage boiling over, ready to claw the words from his mouth.
But Bennette catches me. His arms lock around my waist, solid and unyielding. “Not like this, Stella,” he growls low, holding me back with ease.
Donovan’s laughter cuts jaggedly through the room, triumph dripping off every sound.
Mac barrels forward, shoving him hard toward the open door. “Get the fuck out!” he roars, dragging Donovan’s fury into the night.
And just like that, the fight is gone from my body. The anger burns out, leaving nothing but ash. My knees give, and Bennett loosens his hold just enough for me to crumple to the floor.
The sob rips out of me before I can stop it, raw and shaking. My hands clutch at my braid, my dress, anything to hold myself together as the tears spill hot and furious. For the first time, I don’t care who sees me break.
Elaine is there instantly, kneeling beside me, her hand on my back, her voice a steady whisper. “He doesn’t win, Stella. He doesn’t get to take this from you.”
Bennett lingers, protective, a silent wall behind me. The rest of the room stays hushed, heavy with the sound of my unraveling.
Elaine helps me to my feet, her arm steady around my waist as if I weigh nothing. The room is silent behind us, heavy with everything unsaid, but I can’t meet their eyes. The whole night was ruined because of me. Because no matter how strong I pretend to be, he can still drag me down to the floor.
I let Elaine guide me upstairs, one step at a time, until the bedroom swallows us whole.
She doesn’t ask for words. Doesn’t demand anything. She simply lies down beside me, pulling me into her arms, her warmth pressing against the ache in my chest. I let her hold me, let her heartbeat steady mine, until at last my eyes close. Sleep finds me only because she doesn’t let go.
I wake to sunlight pressing against the curtains, but the heaviness in my chest hasn’t lifted. Elaine stirs beside me, her arm draped across my waist like an anchor. For a moment, I want to stay like this—weightless, quiet, and safe.
But safety isn’t real. Not for me. Not for a Carrington.
I pull away too fast, the mattress dipping, the air between us splintering. Elaine props herself on one elbow, her hair a dark tumble, her eyes soft in a way I can’t bear. “Stella…”
“Don’t,” I snap, more at myself than her. My hands shake as I rake my messy braids out. “You don’t understand. There are too many family secrets, things you don’t want to be dragged into. Things I can’t let you be dragged into.”
Elaine pushes up from the bed, standing tall, her shadow cutting across me where I sit. Fire flashes behind her calm, her voice steady but unyielding.
“Stella, we said no lies. I want you. The good parts, the bad, the messy, the ugly. Every single piece you think is unlovable, I want it. Don’t shut me out.”
Her words slice through the fog in my chest. My throat burns as I turn to face her, anger and fear tangling so tightly I can barely breathe.
“Fine,” I choke out. “You want the truth? God help us both.”
And I tell her. About my parents, about the letter, about the empire built on graves and secrets.
How my father wasn’t the don, but the cleaner, the one they called when blood needed wiping away, when messes needed to vanish.
How my mother smiled at men who never came home again.
I don’t mean to say it, but it rips out anyway—the cash slipped under tables, the lies told to police, the families silenced so Carrington and Ferretti could stand taller.
My uncle, the Don, really my half-brother, was made into a weapon before he was even grown.
I can’t stop; it keeps coming, sharper, uglier, until I don’t even recognize my own voice anymore, only the sound of every truth I swore I’d bury spilling into the open, reckless and raw.
The words are still burning in my throat when the silence crashes in. Elaine’s eyes are steady, unflinching, but I can’t stand the weight of them. I turn before she can speak, my body moving on instinct, my hand on the door. My voice is barely more than a whisper, cracked and ruined.
“I don’t know if I can let this take you down with me.”
And then I’m gone, leaving her in the dark with the wreckage I finally spilled.