The War.

Chapter 50: Justice..?

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As Stella walked through the corridor, the smirk she wore was more than a simple expression—it was a facade, one she had painstakingly crafted over years of waiting, planning, and steeling herself against the pain that lay just beneath the surface. The air in the basement hung heavy and stale, a suffocating weight pressing down on both of them. It was as if the very room could feel the tension and bitterness swirling within Stella, mirroring her twisted resolve, her seething anger, her need for justice. The dim light cast shadows across the walls, emphasizing the dark contours of Stella's face, hinting at the depths of fury she kept hidden.

Inside, her mind was a storm, memories flashing like lightning strikes against the backdrop of her hardened heart. She thought back to the night her world had burned, her home consumed by merciless flames. The echoes of her mother's final scream lingered in her memory, haunting her every step, her every breath. Stella could still feel the heat of the fire, the searing flames devouring everything she'd ever known, ever loved. And all because of Mia's father—a man whose selfish actions had shattered her life without remorse. That necklace—her necklace—had been ripped from her neck, as if tearing away her last line of defense against a hostile, unforgiving world.

The ache in her heart was raw and unyielding, a scar that never healed, a wound she could feel throb every time she closed her eyes. Stella had spent years clawing her way out of the dark, pulling herself up and rebuilding herself from the ashes. She had torn down anyone who dared cross her path, reinforcing herself until she became an impenetrable fortress, a force no one could dare to break. When she stared at Mia, she felt a sick satisfaction simmering beneath her stoic mask. Finally, she thought, I'm so close.

Mia had no idea what lay in wait for her. Stella's hardened gaze pierced through the girl's confusion, her fear. Mia didn't know the depths of pain, the empty, hollow agony of watching your life get torn to pieces and scattered to the wind. But Stella could see it—the faint realization beginning to bloom in Mia's eyes, the flicker of fear that Stella had once felt herself. Let her feel it, Stella thought with a bitter resolve, her jaw clenched so tight it ached. Let her know what it's like to lose everything.

This wasn't just a confrontation for Stella. This was a culmination, a lifetime of suffering coiled and ready to strike, a vendetta that had fueled her through every sleepless night and every struggle. This was her moment of justice, the final reckoning she had longed for. Each step closer was intentional, each movement laced with an icy resolve that had taken years to build. The silence thickened as she approached, as though the very walls braced themselves for what was to come, complicit in the darkness about to unfold.

When she reached the basement door, she yanked it open with a force that reverberated through the empty hall, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white. The cold, flickering light cast an eerie glow over Mia, bound and helpless against the wall. Her face was pale, her body weary, her eyes brimming with the kind of fear Stella had once known too well. The air felt oppressive, wrapping around them like a shroud, a tangible reminder of the pain Stella carried and was ready to unleash.

In this darkened room, under the shadow of her rage, Stella knew that she held all the power.

"Hello, Amelia," Stella greeted, her voice as icy as her expression, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Mia squinted, her eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness. "Are you... the boss?" she asked weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Mhm," Stella affirmed, her smirk deepening as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft but ominous click.