Chapter 150: How Much Do You Need?
Nathaniel gently pulled Stella away.
“Thank you, Nathaniel,” Stella said gratefully, turning to cast a triumphant glance at Cecelia. She felt a pang of regret about marrying him, wondering if remaining unmarried would have been better. Unmarried, she could have dictated the terms, and he likely would have agreed. Simultaneously, she felt relief at having successfully impersonated Elena's rescuer.
Cecelia watched Stella's smug look with indifference. Daltonia Villa was immense, yet Stella chose a room near the master bedroom. Her motives were painfully obvious.
As Stella tidied her room, Cecelia prepared to retire. Nathaniel, still in the living room, called, “Cecelia, come here.”
Unsure of his intentions, she approached. “Yes?”
Nathaniel scrutinized her. He recalled her insistence, after their marriage, that their home be solely for them; no other women, aside from family and friends.
“Aren’t you angry?” he asked steadily. He’d allowed Stella to stay overnight because he genuinely feared for her safety and wanted to gauge Cecelia’s reaction. He didn't believe her unconcern.
Cecelia’s response exceeded his expectations. “We have an agreement. We divorce when I’m debt-free. Why should I be angry?”
Nathaniel’s throat tightened. “I hope you mean that.” He stood. “I have plans today and won’t be back tonight.”
Stella had used sympathy to persuade Nathaniel, but hadn’t anticipated his absence. She reached Cecelia’s door and knocked, only to be interrupted, realizing she wouldn’t finish her musical score that day. Opening the door, she saw Cecelia oddly dressed in long sleeves and pants, a rash visible on her neck.
Remembering Cecelia's past allergic reaction to seafood from their family dinners with the Smiths, Stella mocked, “You’re the most fragile woman I’ve ever met. Only someone of your stature could be so delicate, allergic even to seafood. You’re not trying to win Nathaniel with that pitiful appearance, are you?”
Returning to her room, Cecelia smirked. “Aren’t you the one playing the sympathy card?”
Cecelia, a renowned celebrity accustomed to stalkers, saw through Stella's tactics. How could she allow a man into her room twice?
Stella’s words didn’t faze her; instead, she smirked. “Indeed, I played the victim, but…” Leaning closer, she raised her voice. “Nathaniel pitied me. But you? You look like a mess. Has he ever shown you concern?
Cecelia remained silent.
Stella continued, “Why insist on taking Nathaniel from me? Even married, have you been intimate? Do you know his bed preference, whether he likes being on top or bottom? I know all his preferences.”
Cecelia, taken aback by Stella’s bluntness, momentarily zoned out. She didn’t understand Nathaniel as well as Stella, but had no desire to learn more. His preferences were irrelevant; she wanted a child and then to leave him.
Stella felt unprecedented satisfaction at Cecelia’s speechless state. Cecelia, however, remained unfazed. “Given these years, you must have accumulated quite a bit, haven’t you?”
Cecelia continued, “I’ll give you a few months to gather money. Once you hand it over, I’ll leave Nathaniel.” As a successful celebrity, Stella’s movie earnings, endorsements, and other income would be substantial. Cecelia believed Stella could easily afford two to three billion.
“Are you sure?” Stella asked, surprised to hear Cecelia mention money. Previously, no sum could persuade Cecelia to leave Nathaniel.
“I’ve endured hardship abroad for years, and I’ve had enough,” Cecelia explained. “I want a substantial sum to secure my future. I know Nathaniel doesn’t love me, so staying won’t benefit me.”
“How much do you need?” Stella asked.
“Ten billion.”