At eighteen, fueled by alcohol, I confessed my feelings to Ethan Lynwood. He was my guardian. He had saved me from a fire when I was twelve, and I had loved him for ten whole years. Instead, he reacted with utter disgust. “Stella, what kind of sick thoughts are rattling around in your head?” He quickly found a girlfriend, Chloe, just to make me give up. Ethan asked me to design their engagement rings myself. I didn’t want to design wedding rings for the man I loved, knowing they were for another woman. But Chloe affectionately linked her arm through mine. “Stella, please, just this once?” Before I could even speak, Ethan’s cold gaze landed on me. “Since Chloe wants it, you draw it. The Lynwood family has provided for you for ten years. This is your responsibility.” I smiled. The next day, while taking measurements, Chloe “accidentally” spilled scorching hot tea all over my right hand, the one I used for drawing. I trembled with pain. Ethan pushed open the door, and Chloe threw herself into his arms, crying. He didn’t even glance at my hand. Instead, he snapped, “Stella, are you done making a scene?” Later, I discovered that even the exclusive flower studio he had given me for my eighteenth birthday, my sanctuary, had been ordered cleared out for Chloe to arrange flowers. Ten years of hard work, thrown out like trash. I finally understood it was time to leave.
Stella POV In the quiet bedroom, the computer notification chimed, a jarring sound. I lowered my eyes, my gaze fixed on the email from Paris on the screen. “Dear Ms. Brooks, your transfer request has been approved. Please report to the L’Étoile Jewelry Paris headquarters on the twenty-fifth of next month.” My mouse cursor hovered over the “Confirm” button for two seconds, then I pressed it without hesitation. After confirming the send, the tension in my shoulders, which had been tight for half a month, finally released. A profound emptiness followed. I raised my left hand, my fingertips lightly tracing the jagged burn scar on my wrist. Ten years ago, a sudden fire consumed the Brooks family home, taking my parents with it. It was Ethan Lynwood, then twenty-two, who bravely rushed into the flames and carried me, a twelve-year-old girl, out. From that day on, I became the adopted daughter of the Lynwood family, and Ethan became my guardian. He taught me to read, watched me grow up, and gave me all his favoritism and indulgence. A young girl’s heart began to take root in the daily kindness, growing into a towering tree. At eighteen, fueled by alcohol, I dared to confess my feelings to him. What I got in return was Ethan’s look of utter disgust. “Stella, I raised you like my own daughter. What kind of filthy thoughts are in your head? You are sick.” His words were like a knife, plunging deep into my heart. After that, he withdrew all his warmth, becoming cold and distant. A month ago, he brought Chloe home, just to make me give up entirely. Laughter and joyful chatter from outside the door interrupted my thoughts. I stood up, pushed open my door, and walked to the railing on the second floor. The living room downstairs was brightly lit, filled with Ethan’s relatives and friends. Ethan stood tall in a custom-tailored designer suit. Beside him, Chloe wore a white dress, their fingers intertwined like a loving couple. “Thank you all for coming today.” Ethan raised his glass, his usually stern eyes softening only when he looked at Chloe. “My engagement party with Chloe is on the twentieth of next month. We hope you’ll all join us.” The living room erupted in enthusiastic applause and blessings. I stood in the shadows, watching the scene. My heart didn’t feel much pain anymore. Perhaps a month of seeing Ethan and Chloe’s intimacy had completely numbed me. I turned to go back to my room, but Ethan’s gaze found me precisely. “Stella.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried undeniable authority. “Come down.” All eyes instantly converged on me. I paused, then obediently walked down the stairs. I didn’t throw a tantrum as I used to, nor did I question him with tear-filled eyes. I simply walked calmly to stand before them. Ethan frowned slightly, seemingly displeased by my overly quiet demeanor. Chloe, however, warmly approached me, linking her arm through mine, her smile utterly innocent. “Stella, you study jewelry design, right? Ethan says you’re very talented.” I subtly pulled my arm away. “I’m just a junior designer. I wouldn’t call myself talented.” Chloe, unwilling to let go, turned to Ethan, pouting playfully. “Ethan, why don’t we let Stella design our engagement rings? It would be her best blessing for us!”
Stella POV The air in the living room seemed to freeze for a moment. My fingers curled slightly, my nails digging into my palm. Ask the woman who loves him deeply to design his engagement ring for another woman? This wasn’t Chloe asking for a blessing; she was clearly trying to rub salt into my wound. “Ms. Foster, I’m quite junior; I’m afraid I can’t handle such an important design.” My voice was dry, and I flatly refused. Chloe bit her lip, looking wronged, her eyes instantly reddening. “Stella, are you still mad at me? I know you used to like Ethan, but we’re about to get engaged. Won’t you even give me this small blessing?” At her words, the relatives around us immediately looked at me with disdain. An adopted daughter coveting her benefactor. It was scandalous, a dirty secret best kept hidden. Ethan’s face darkened completely. He stared at me coldly, his eyes conveying a clear warning and pressure. “Stella, since Chloe wants it, you draw it. The Lynwood family took you in for ten years, this is your responsibility.” Responsibility. That word felt like a mountain, pressing heavily on my spine. I looked at Ethan’s emotionless eyes and suddenly, I smiled. “Fine. I’ll draw it.” The next morning, I took my measuring tape and notebook and knocked on the guest room door. Chloe was sitting at the vanity, trying on jewelry. When she saw me enter, a smug smile played on her lips. “Stella, thank you for your trouble.” Chloe extended her right hand, slender and delicate. I walked over expressionlessly and wrapped the measuring tape around her ring finger. “You don’t have to torment yourself like this, you know.” Chloe lowered her voice, speaking just loud enough for only the two of us to hear. “Watching the man you love marry someone else, your heart must be bleeding, right? Stella, what do you have to compete with me? Ethan said you’re nothing but a nuisance he picked up on a whim.” My hand paused, but I said nothing, just silently noted the measurements. Seeing my lack of response, a malicious glint flashed in Chloe’s eyes. She picked up a freshly brewed cup of scorching hot tea from the table and, feigning a slip of the hand, hurled it directly at my right hand, the one I used for drawing. “Ah!” The scalding tea instantly drenched my hand, and I gasped in pain, my hand swelling red before my eyes. Just then, the bedroom door burst open, and Ethan strode in. Chloe immediately cried out, throwing herself into Ethan’s arms, looking utterly pathetic. “Ethan, I didn’t mean to! I just wanted to offer Stella some tea, and she suddenly dodged, and the tea spilled…” Ethan didn’t even glance at my scalded hand. He shielded Chloe behind him and snapped, “Stella, are you done making a scene?! Chloe was being kind, offering you tea. How did you respond to her?” I trembled with pain, biting down hard on my teeth. Looking at the man who was protecting someone else, I lost even the desire to explain. I turned and left without a word, heading straight for the glass conservatory in the backyard. That was my private studio, built specifically for me by Ethan, my only safe haven. But when I pushed open the conservatory door, I froze. My easels, plaster molds, and design sketches were being roughly packed and thrown into a trash can by several housekeepers.
Stella POV “What are you doing?!” I rushed in, snatching a stack of manuscripts from a housekeeper’s hands. Those were design drawings I’d painstakingly worked on through countless sleepless nights. The housekeeper looked distressed. “Ms. Stella, these are Mr. Lynwood’s orders. He said Ms. Foster likes flowers and wants this conservatory cleared out for her flower arranging studio.” All the blood in my body seemed to drain away at that moment. Clutching my manuscripts, I stood frozen, watching as the tools that held countless dreams and memories were discarded one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re reluctant to part with these things?” Ethan’s cold voice came from behind me. I turned around, my eyes red-rimmed, looking at him. “Ethan, this was your eighteenth birthday gift to me. You said this place would always be mine.” Ethan stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze as indifferent as if he were looking at a stranger. “Since it was a gift I gave, I naturally have the right to take it back. Your so-called jewelry designs are nothing but a joke. Chloe needs a quiet place for her flower arranging, and this place is perfect for her.” A joke. Ten years of my passion, my tireless efforts, were, in his eyes, worth less than one of Chloe’s flower arrangements. I took a deep breath, forcing my tears back. “Fine. I’ll clean it out.” I didn’t make a scene, nor did I say another word. Ethan frowned, as if he wanted to say something else, but Chloe was already calling him sweetly from a distance. Ethan turned and left, without a single backward glance at me. That night, I pulled out a large suitcase and began clearing out my belongings. Clothes, books, daily necessities. I actually didn’t own much. Most of it had been bought by Ethan. I neatly arranged all the designer bags and haute couture dresses back in the walk-in closet, not intending to take a single item with me. I took out an accounting ledger and began to calculate my expenses over the past ten years. Tuition, living expenses, medical bills. Every single one, tallied precisely. A total of 8.7 million. I only had a little over 2 million in my bank account. I was still short more than 6 million. From the bottom drawer, I pulled out a velvet box. Inside lay an antique ruby necklace. It was the only relic my mother had left me, and my most cherished possession. To completely sever all ties with Ethan, I had no other choice. The next morning, I contacted an auction house and listed the necklace. Late at night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The master bedroom was right next door. In the dead of night, the intimate sounds coming from there pierced my eardrums like needles. I pulled the covers over my head, my tears silently soaking the pillow. The next morning, I went downstairs for breakfast, dark circles under my eyes. As soon as I reached the dining room, my steps abruptly halted. By the dining table, Chloe was nestled beside Ethan, playfully leaning on him. And around Chloe’s fair neck was the ruby necklace I had just sold yesterday! “Ethan, I really love this necklace. Thank you.” Chloe touched the ruby at her chest, her smile sweet. Ethan sipped his coffee, his tone indulgent. “As long as you like it.” I stood rooted to the spot, as if plunged into an ice cave. I walked closer, staring intently at the necklace, my voice trembling. “Ethan, why did you buy this necklace?” Ethan looked up at me, his eyes showing no hint of guilt, but rather a touch of mockery. “The auction house manager told me you needed money urgently and rushed the listing for this necklace. Since you didn’t even want your mother’s keepsake, what’s wrong with me buying it and giving it to Chloe?” He knew. He knew it was my mother’s keepsake, he knew how important it was to me, yet he still bought it, then casually gave it to another woman. “Ethan, you’re truly cruel.” I gave a bitter laugh, the light in my eyes completely extinguished. I didn’t argue further. I turned and went back to my room. From this moment on, Ethan Lynwood, the person, was dead in my world. For the next few days, I holed myself up in my room, working day and night. The submission deadline for The Zenith Design Awards was tonight. It was the most prestigious competition in the country, and winning an award meant my position at the Paris headquarters could be directly promoted from assistant designer to independent designer. With my still-healing, scalded right hand, enduring piercing pain, I meticulously carved the final wax model. In the afternoon, I went to the restroom. When I returned, I saw Chloe standing at my desk. “What are you doing?!” My heart tightened, and I quickly walked over. Chloe turned, holding the wax model I had just finished carving. She looked at me, a malicious smile playing on her lips, and then her fingers relaxed. Clink. The fragile wax model dropped to the floor, instantly shattering into several pieces. “Chloe!” I exploded in rage, rushing forward and pushing her away. Chloe stumbled backward, deliberately falling down the few steps at the study door, letting out a pitiful shriek. “Chloe!” Ethan happened to be coming up the stairs. Seeing the scene, his face instantly changed. He rushed over, picked Chloe up, then turned to me, his eyes so fierce they looked like they could devour someone. “Stella, are you insane?!” I pointed at the shattered wax model on the floor, trembling all over. “She’s the one who threw my competition piece first! Ethan, that was my hard work!” “A broken wax model, is it more important than Chloe’s life?!” Ethan roared, stepping forward and shoving me hard. I hit the door frame, a sharp pain shooting through my back. “Since you love throwing fits so much, stay in your room and think about what you’ve done! No one is to let her out without my permission!” Ethan picked up Chloe and strode away. Bang! The door slammed shut, locked from the outside. I lunged at the door, pounding on it frantically. “Ethan! Let me out! Tonight’s the deadline; I have to submit my work! Ethan!” Silence. Dead silence from outside the door. I slumped to the floor, staring at the scattered pieces of the wax model, and closed my eyes in despair.
Stella POV Two days later, the door finally opened. Ethan stood outside, looking down at me, curled up in the corner. My hair was disheveled, my face as pale as paper, my entire being exuding a lifeless, withered aura. “Chloe only suffered a mild concussion; she’s not going to press charges.” Ethan’s voice was cold. “Just stay put from now on, and don’t cause any more trouble.” I slowly raised my head, my empty gaze sweeping over his face. No anger, no resentment, nothing at all. I pushed myself up against the wall, limped to the desk, picked up a pen, and began to draw the shelved engagement ring design. Ethan watched me, then snorted coldly, and turned to leave. My dream was shattered, but I became incredibly clear-headed. Like a soulless machine, I spent three days completing Chloe’s engagement ring design. The design was impeccable, so perfect that no one could find fault with it. A week later, a grand international jewelry exhibition was held in New York. As the company’s assistant designer, I followed my director to set up the exhibition booth. When I reached the central display in the exhibition hall, my steps abruptly halted. Under the spotlight, a jewelry set named “Starlight” was showcased. The fluid lines, the unique setting technique. It was clearly the design from my wax model that Chloe had shattered. And the designer’s name below the display cabinet prominently read: Chloe Foster. My breath hitched. Trembling all over, I pushed through the crowd and immediately saw Ethan and Chloe being interviewed by the media. “Mr. Lynwood, we hear this jewelry set is Ms. Foster’s first piece. What was the inspiration behind it?” a reporter asked. Ethan put an arm around Chloe’s waist, his smile gentle. “Chloe is very talented. This piece is the culmination of a month of her hard work. We hope everyone will support her.” I rushed forward, grabbing Ethan’s arm, my eyes blazing red. “Ethan, how could you give her my design? That’s my work!” The camera flashes instantly erupted. Ethan’s face darkened. He roughly shook off my hand and dragged me into a deserted emergency exit stairwell. “What are you making a scene about now?” Ethan’s tone was extremely impatient. “That ‘Starlight’ set was my competition piece! The original files are still on my computer!” I gritted my teeth, tears finally streaming down my face. “You’d resort to such despicable tactics just to elevate her?” Ethan looked at my tear-streaked face, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by coldness. “Chloe was injured because of you, and she missed her original art exhibition. Consider this design your compensation to her.” He stated it as a matter of course. “Besides, you’re the adopted daughter of the Lynwood family. What do you need fame for? The Lynwood family will support you for life. As long as you’re obedient, you won’t starve. It’s just a design, why are you making such a fuss?” Just a design. I looked at the man I had loved for ten years, and suddenly, a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. In his eyes, I was never an independent person, just an object whose dreams could be arbitrarily stripped away, used to please his beloved.
Stella POV “Okay. I understand.” I wiped away my tears, no longer hysterical, and turned to walk out of the emergency exit. I didn’t go back to the company. Instead, I went straight back to the Lynwood family home, took out my ledger, and filled in the auction amount for the ruby necklace. Still short thirty thousand. My flight to Paris was in half a month. I had to raise this money within that time. I wanted to leave Ethan’s life completely, cleanly, and without any lingering ties. Through a friend’s introduction, I started working as a VIP suite attendant at an exclusive, high-end private club called “The Black Orchid Club.” Only the wealthy frequented this place. Selling a few expensive bottles of wine meant commissions and tips that could easily match a normal person’s annual salary. I changed into the club’s prescribed tight uniform, put on heavy makeup, and moved like a tireless machine between the various suites. Being plied with drinks, being verbally harassed. I gritted my teeth and endured it all. As long as I could earn money, as long as I could repay Ethan’s debt. That night, the manager handed me a bottle of Romanée-Conti worth a million. “VIP Room 888. The wealthiest people in the New York circle are in there. Remember to be smart and keep them happy. You’ll be pleased with the tips.” I carried the tray and pushed open the door to VIP Room 888. The suite was dimly lit and smoky. Men and women were embracing, the atmosphere decadent. I kept my head down, walked to the table, and prepared to open the wine. “Well, well, this new attendant is quite pretty.” A drunken male voice slurred, “Lift your head, let me see.” I ignored him, skillfully pulling out the cork with a corkscrew. The man felt disrespected. He suddenly stood up, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look up. “I told you to look up, you… God!” The man’s face cleared, half-sober with shock. He instantly let go. “Stella?!” His exclamation instantly silenced the entire suite. The man seated in the shadows at the head of the table slowly extinguished the cigarette in his hand and leaned forward. In the dim light, Ethan’s face, dark enough to drip water, became visible. Today was his bachelor party. He stared intently at me, dressed in a revealing uniform and heavy makeup, the rage in his eyes almost enough to set the suite ablaze. “Ethan, isn’t this… isn’t this your adopted daughter? How did she end up selling drinks here?” The man who had grabbed me awkwardly tried to smooth things over. Ethan didn’t speak, the air pressure around him terrifyingly low. Another wealthy man, who had always disliked me, sneered. “Since she’s here to sell drinks, she should follow the rules. Get on your knees and fill everyone’s glasses with this bottle. I’ll pay for the wine today, and I’ll give you a generous tip.” The suite was dead silent. Everyone looked at Ethan, waiting for his reaction. Ethan leaned back on the sofa, looking at me coldly. “Why are you looking at me? The guest asked you to pour the wine, can’t you hear him?” My spine stiffened for a moment. I looked at the cold cruelty and contempt in Ethan’s eyes, and suddenly, I felt that ten years of love had been a complete and utter joke. I didn’t resist, didn’t cry, my eyes didn’t even redden. I calmly picked up the million-dollar bottle of red wine, bent my knees, and with a soft thud, knelt directly before the hard marble table. The glass wine glasses clinked softly. I poured the wine into each glass with practiced movements and a blank expression, then held up the first glass with both hands, extending it towards the wealthy man who had insulted me. “Sir, your wine.” The wealthy man froze. I knew he had intended to humiliate me, but he hadn’t expected me to actually kneel. He instinctively looked at Ethan. Ethan’s face had turned incredibly grim. He suddenly stood up and kicked over the table in front of him.
Stella POV Crash! Wine glasses shattered, and expensive red wine spilled everywhere, splashing onto my white uniform shirt like stark bloodstains. “Stella, how can you be so disgusting?!” Ethan grabbed my collar, yanking me roughly off the floor, his eyes bloodshot. “Is the money the Lynwood family gave you not enough? You have to come to this sickening place to degrade yourself?!” I was forced to look up at his furious face, a mocking curve playing on my lips. “Mr. Lynwood, I’m earning money with my own hands. What’s so disgusting about that? If you find me an eyesore, I’ll just leave.” “Earn money? How much do you need?!” Ethan pulled a checkbook from his suit pocket, swiftly wrote a string of numbers, and hurled it at my face. “Is one million enough? Two million? Take the money and get out of here right now!” The flimsy check floated to the floor. I crouched down amidst the shattered glass, picked up the check, and carefully brushed off the dust. “Thank you for the tip, Mr. Lynwood.” I folded the check and slipped it into my uniform pocket, my voice frighteningly calm. Ethan stared at me, then grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the suite. “Ethan, let go of me!” Ethan ignored me, pulling me out of the club and shoving me into a waiting Maybach on the street. The air pressure inside the car was extremely low. “The day after tomorrow is Chloe’s and my engagement party.” Ethan didn’t look at me, his voice harsh. “You stay home, don’t go anywhere.” I stared at the rapidly passing night scenery outside the window, my fingers clutching that check. The day after tomorrow. My flight takes off tomorrow night. “Ethan,” I said suddenly, my voice so soft it felt like a gust of wind could scatter it. “Tomorrow is my twenty-second birthday.” Ethan’s hands, gripping the steering wheel, paused. “Could you… have dinner with me? Just one last time.” I turned my head, looking at his profile, my eyes filled with a desperate finality. “Chloe needs to try on her wedding dress tomorrow; I don’t have time.” He sneered. “Stella, don’t try to play games with your birthday, trying to bait me. I’m not falling for it.” I retracted my gaze and looked out the window again. “Okay.” On my twenty-second birthday, an unusually heavy rain poured over New York. The Lynwood mansion was empty, the housekeepers given the day off. I sat alone on my bedroom carpet, stuffing the last of my clothes into my suitcase. I really didn’t have much; a twenty-four-inch suitcase wasn’t even full. I had cleaned the room spotlessly, leaving all the things Ethan had bought for me, jewelry, accessories, designer clothes, neatly in their original places. I walked to my desk and placed a bank card under a delicate velvet jewelry box. On the card was all the money the Lynwood family had spent on me over the past ten years, principal and interest, every single cent. Inside the jewelry box were the engagement rings for Ethan and Chloe that I had painstakingly made through the night. I picked up a pen and wrote the last sentence on a sticky note. “I owe you nothing now. Ethan, I wish you a happy marriage and eternal happiness.” No lingering attachment. No resentment. Just a peaceful farewell. At eight in the evening, the rain showed no signs of letting up. Dragging my suitcase and holding a black umbrella, I walked out of the Lynwood family’s grand gate. I didn’t look back at the cage that had trapped me for ten years. I hailed a taxi and headed straight for the airport. Once in the car, I took the SIM card from my phone and, through the narrow gap in the window, tossed it into the pouring rain.
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