The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Sellers seemed to sense her pain, and the corners of his mouth curled up in delight.

He relished watching his prey suffer, helpless and desperate.

Suddenly, Stella's free hand shot up and she slapped Sellers hard across the face.

But he was ready for her. With practiced ease, he caught her wrist mid-air.

Stella's eyes widened. Even if she'd been slow to realize it before, it was now painfully clear-Sellers wasn't some average man. He was trained, dangerous.

She tried to kick him, aiming for his groin, but the two of them were pressed too close together; she couldn't get any leverage.

As if anticipating her every move, Sellers pinned her foot with his polished leather shoe before she could even swing her leg.

Stella was just an ordinary woman-she didn't know any self-defense, let alone how to fight off someone like him.

The difference in their strength and skill was obvious; she was outmatched in every way.

Sellers watched her with mocking amusement, like a cat toying with a mouse. "Want me to let go?" he drawled. "Beg me, and maybe I'll consider it."

He was just like Sherman's sleazy friends, getting his kicks from tormenting the vulnerable, as if it made him feel important.

She used to think Sherman just had bad judgment, but now she saw the truth- they were all cut from the same rotten cloth. Maybe Sherman even encouraged it, sending them her way just to break her down, make her doubt herself.

No wonder Sherman idolized Sellers. This man was rotten to the core.

The apple never falls far from the tree.

Stella forced a smile and raised her voice, loud and clear.

"Help! There's a creep at the auction! Somebody stop him!"

Her shout echoed through the elegant hall, jarring against the refined hush.

Heads turned; people started drifting over to see what the commotion was about. Sellers clearly hadn't expected her to make a scene. He froze, caught off guard, and before he could react, someone shoved him hard to the side.noveldrama

Suddenly, his grip loosened, and Stella felt her foot freed.

"Ms. Cameron, are you all right?" a man's voice asked, smooth and clear as a mountain stream.

She looked up and saw a striking, handsome face.

"Joshua."

His usual easy smile was gone, replaced by a dark, unreadable expression.

He glanced down at her wrist.

A livid red mark was already blooming on her pale skin—a bruise that would only deepen with time.

Would it affect her ability to play violin? The thought flitted through Joshua's eyes, sharp and cold.

Stella followed his gaze to her wrist, her own face growing grim.

Who wouldn't be upset after something like this? Especially it was her hands-her most

asset-that were hurt. Corecio

She swallowed her anger, but it burned inside her.

Her eyes landed on a vase sitting on the windowsill.

Without a second thought, she grabbed it and hurled it at Sellers with all her might.

As she flung it, she shouted, "Get him! Somebody stop this pervert!"

Abby hadn't gone far. Hearing Stella's cries, she rushed back, spotted the scene, and, without

noon, snatched up a heavy

ornament from the hallway.

"You creep! Touch Star again, and I'll kill you myself!"

Sellers ducked the vase, but before he could recover, he sensed a rush of air behind him.

He turned just in time for the brass\ ornament to whiz past his

crash to the floor with a race and

thud.

If that thing had hit him, it would've cracked his skull open.

While Sellers was still reeling, cold water splashed across his face.

Droplets ran down his hair and onto his cheeks.

He spun around. Stella stood there, holding a vase half-filled with water, staring at

him icily.

Before he could react, she raised the vase and hurled it at him again.