Chapter 487

Finding her reaction hilarious, Weston suddenly leaned in closer to her, kissing her on the nose. “Which
part of your body have I not seen? Why are you still so shy?” Stella pushed him away. “No need. I can
do it myself.” Weston’s brows furrowed as he looked at her. He had thought that she was angry
because he refused to listen to her and insisted on carrying her all the way to the car. Now that he
thought about it, it seems like there was another reason for her anger. Weston said in a teasing voice,
“Seems like I thought wrong. Are you jealous?” He had stood up for Daisy, reacting to the displeasure
of hearing Stella talk about her first love. Who asked her to gush about how heroic and valiant her first
crush was?

He wanted to let her witness how anyone can do something so trivial, and, therefore, it was not worthy
for her to remember for so many years.

Who knew that she would be jealous over something so trivial? “Jealous?” Stella’s eyes widened in
disbelief as she looked at him as if he just cracked the greatest joke of all time. “You must be
dreaming.” Weston didn’t like her dismissive tone and pinched her nose, “What? Does the great Stella
Sealey not know how to be jealous?” Stella shook her head, “I wouldn’t do something so immature.”
“Really?” Weston leaned closer to her and whispered in a low voice that was laced with threats. Stella
found that the man before her was behaving in a bewildering way. Why did he behave like he would get
angry if she weren’t jealous? “Do you like to see me jealous?” Weston remained silent as he stared at
her. Stella sighed. “Fine, I am jealous. Are you happy now?”

He knew that she was just placating him, but his facial features subconsciously softened at her words.

He pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her lips. “Don’t worry. You are the only one who can
make me lose control.” The corner of Stella’s lips lifted. She found his words ironic and bordering on



hilarious. As a man who was already a father, did he not feel shy saying something so mushy? Weston
held Stella’s arms up and lifted her shirt up again. This time, she did not stop him.



“Over here?” he asked as his long fingers touched her skin.. Stella inhaled sharply as intense pain shot
through her back Weston stopped moving immediately, his heart aching at seeing her pained
expression. The next time he tried to move his fingers, he did so much more gently. His warm palm
rubbed the injured area gently as his eyes turned downcast.

Her previous wound hadn’t even recovered completely, leaving light bruises in its wake. Yet now, she
was bumped so hard that it aggravated her old injury. Although her skin wasn’t punctured, the bruise
was huge and jarring on the eyes. Weston’s hands paused in mid-air as he spoke in a hoarse voice. “I
really should have broken his legs.” Stella’s skin was fine and delicate, and he couldn’t even bear to
use much force on the bed. Who was that man to wound her like this?

His actions were overly careful and gentle, like a feather brushing across the skin. Stella felt like a
fragile doll made of glass and squirmed in discomfort. “You don’t have to be so careful… I’m not an
infant.”

Weston remained silent as he focused on applying the ointment to her injury and gently rubbing her
back

A moment later, he said, “Your skin bruises so easily. What’s the difference between you and an
infant?”

He treated her so delicately, like she was his most precious treasure in the world. Complicated feelings
started emerging in Stella’s heart. The more he treated her well, the more it confused her. Was the man
currently treating her like treasure the same man who had abandoned her so ruthlessly back then? Did



all men have the same ability as he did, to dote on you to the skies when he loved you and throw you
into hell without hesitation when he no longer did?


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