Stella

11

Vincent P.O.V

I don't regret what I did to Stella.

When Luca told me about her living situation, I began to feel anxious every time she went home.

Everyday she came into work in one piece, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Until Monday.

She doesn't deserve to be living in a place surrounded by junkies and alcoholics. She wasn't safe in a place like that. If only she knew how many lustful glances she got from people as she walked into the building.

Her wooden door was barely hanging on as she let me in. It surely wouldn't stop anyone from bursting in and having their way with her.

She wouldn't have ever agreed to move out and come live with me, so I took matters into my own hands.

The piece of shit landlord didn't even care that the lease wasn't in my name before I cancelled it.

I was honestly surprised she could swing as hard as she did when I got slapped.

Scar and Luca won't stop talking about it every time I see them.

It stung a bit, but the real pain was from my hard on afterwards.

Mad Stella is so hot.

Stella has successfully avoided me for 2 days.

I didn't care that she didn't show up for work. I wanted her to have time to heal.

Scar and Luca surprisingly took it upon themselves to take on her baking duties, despite having more important jobs to do for me.

I know Stella would only come out of her room when I left the house. I would come home and see freshly washed dishes in the drying rack or the blanket on the couch was tousled.

At least she's eating the food I've made for her.

I enter my home, and see a flash of black hair run up the stairs. Her steps echo through the house and I hear her door slam shut.

I start to grow annoyed at her childish behavior.

I was okay with her avoiding me for a the first day, but now it was really testing my patience.

How long would she keep this up?

I sigh and go to the kitchen to poor myself a drink, but I stop when I see a letter hanging from the fridge by a magnet.

Dear Mr. Moretti,

I would give you a two weeks notice, but I didn't get one when you kicked me out of my apartment, so this letter is to tell you that I officially quit.

Get hit by a semi truck,
Stella

I crumble the paper into my hands and toss it straight in the bin.

My feet stomp up the stairs to her room. Before I can even raise my fist to knock on her door, it swings open.

"Yes Mr. Moretti?" She asks with a knowing smirk.

"This shit was cute two days ago, but now you're really pushing my buttons. You quit? Fine, but you will stay here. Capisci?" I tell her, my tone cold and demanding.

(Do you understand?)

"No." She responds firmly with her arms crossed.

"No?" I repeat.

"I don't want to be around you. Nothing good has happened to me since you've come around." She replies red with rage.

"Okay fine. What are you going to do now if you're actually quitting?" I try to cool myself down so I don't do or say anything out of line to her already vulnerable state.

"I'm going to work for Carter."

My blood boils and I swear my right eye twitches.

"Carter?" I seethe and she nods.

My hands grip the top of the doorframe as I bend down towards her.

Nervousness flashes in her eyes, but she masks it fast with that mad face.

Cute.

"What did I tell you about him? You're a smart girl right? Can you not tell that all he wants to do is fuck you?" Her face turns bright red at my crude words.

Carter has a history of sleeping around, even in his own workplace. Most girls worked there to get a chance to sleep with him, but Stella genuinely wanted a different job. That was no place for her.

"Look this is the first and last time I'm ever going to say this to you." I sigh and she looks up at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry." I grit out like the words pained me to say. Her eyes widen.

"I know you're saving money to move out of that place, but once I saw how it really was, I just had to get you out of there. I should've consulted you first, but your safety was my top priority. Especially after what happened on Friday." I whisper the last part as my thumb grazes over the healing bruise on her cheekbone.

Instead of cowering away like she always does, she leans into my hand with tears gathering in her eyes.

Did I apologize wrong?

Before I could speak, she tosses herself into my arms. Her small arms barely wrap around my torso.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She cries over and over into my chest.

Overcoming the shock I felt, one hand holds the back of her head while the other wraps around the back of her shoulders.

"I had no right to hit you. I'm sorry. I was just so mad and it channeled into that. Please forgive me." She untucks her head from my chest and looks up at me, lips quivering.

"It's okay. I deserved it, sí?" I try to make her feel better. I try to wipe the stray tears, with my thumb.

Her tears never cease as I hold her, so I scoop her into my arms. She rests on my hip as I walk us into her room.

"W-what are you doing?" She asks, unsure of our position.

I sit down on the bed with her on top of me and move my legs up until I'm in a laying position.

"It's been a long two days, Estella. Just sleep. Please." I plead and pull her warm body down to mine. Her breathing tickles my neck as my chin rests on top of her head.

"Just this once." She agrees and yawns.

I pull the other half of the blanket that we aren't laying on, on top of us.

I close my eyes and enjoy the moment because I knew there was no way I'd ever be able to do this again.

"Oh and Vincent?" Stella's sleepy voice speaks. I hum in response.

"I lied about working with Carter."

Too tired to argue anymore , I stroke her hair until her breathing evens out.

That sly girl.