The Spiteful Bride, Marry to Rival's Son-Chapter 104

SHE HAD DONE THESE TO HERSELF

The next day, Stefan stood near the window, bare-chested, his phone in hand, staring at the screen like it held the weight of the world.

Mose had sent him the video just twenty minutes ago. And he had watched every second.

He saw himself at the bar.... relaxed, a soft smile playing on his lips. That was a huge alliance, and he wanted to act his best. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Then the drink. He saw as the pill was dropped in his drink. By who and the look they gave themselves. He could still remember how it all happened.

It was a moment of distraction, a lady had sat on his lap. She was an escort sent to keep him company, but he had politely turned her down. That was when they dropped the pill.

He watched as his own body slumped forward, completely unaware of what was done to him.

He saw the men drag him out the back like some trash. Saw how they moved fast, like it was rehearsed. Not after asking the escort to act like they were kissing, and then the picture sent to her was taken.

At the hotel, the same woman followed him into the room.

And then came Mia. She opened the door slowly, cautiously.... and stopped in place.

The camera caught everything: the disbelief in her eyes, the heartbreak, the silent pain as she turned away and left.

No outburst. No screaming. She just stared for a while before walking away in silence.

And that silence hurt him more than anything.

He watched as the escort her fix her clothes immediately Mia stepped, grab her purse, and make a phone call.... her face smug, satisfied.

A breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding left him. Nothing happened between them.

Thank God. If not, he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself.

He lowered the phone, his hand shaking a little.

They used him to hurt Mia. They made her think... that he would ever betray her like that.

They knew exactly what they were doing.

And now she was here, lying just a few feet away, probably still hurting. Still unsure, even if she doesn’t admit it.

He sat on the edge of the couch and opened his phone again, sending Mose a quiet message:

"Find out everything. Names. Faces. Who planned it. Who paid them. I want to know all of it."

Within minutes, the files came in. It was all there..... the bartender, the woman, the investor. Even the hotel staff that let her into the room.

He read through everything, his jaw clenched tight.

How much did they pay all of them. How much was worth their lives.

Then Mose messaged again:

"What should I do?" Stefan stared at the screen for a few seconds, then typed back.

"Nothing."

Not now. Not when they expected him to react. He wasn’t going to. That would be too easy. Too obvious. That’s not how he works.

No. He’d wait.

Wait until they thought they got away with it. Wait until they’d spent the money they all received till the last cent.

When their guard are down. When the forgot they ever received a particular amount, then.... He’d come for them all. None would escape his wrath.

Because when he finally moved... it would be quiet, sharp, and unforgettable. And they’d never see it coming.

He sighed and turned off his phone, placing it quietly on the table beside the bed.

Then his eyes fell on her. Mia.

Still asleep, curled up under the covers, her face calm and peaceful.... so different from the way she’d looked in recent days.

He slid back into bed and pulled her gently into his arms, careful not to wake her. She shifted in her sleep, nestling into his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He held her. Tight. As if he could protect her from everything, even in her dreams.

His eyes drifted to the faint outline of the bed, the sheets he’d changed last night. It hit him again... the quiet truth.

She had been his. He stared at her in amazement, never in his wildest dream would he ever had thought she was still pure.

But the changed sheet was evidence of her pureness. And she had given it to him, fully and willingly.

He really didn’t care about all these but for a reason he couldn’t help the joy he was feeling.

Maybe because cause she had trusted him with a part of herself she’d never given anyone else.

He gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and stared down at her.

"You’re safe," he whispered softly. "No one’s ever going to hurt you again... not even me."

She stirred a little in her sleep, then settled again, her hand resting lightly against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. He just wanted to hold her. To love her the way she deserved.... gently, fiercely, fully.

His hand moved lazily over her waist, but then... he felt something.

A faint ridge beneath his palm.

He stilled, his brows furrowed.

He ran his hand across the same spot again.... slowly, carefully this time. Making sure he wasn’t imagining it.

No, it wasn’t his imagination. This were Scars. Faint, but deep enough to have once been painful. He shifted slightly, adjusting her without waking her, just enough to get a better look.

That’s when he saw them properly. Not one, not two..... but several.

Long. Jagged. Like old stories written into her skin.

His heart slowed. He stared at them in silence.

What the hell happened to her?

She didn’t look like someone who would be this careless with her own body. And she definitely didn’t act like someone who’d been through something this... violent.

He reached out again, almost without thinking, and let his fingertips trace one of the thicker scars.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the sight of them.... it was the fact that she’d hidden them so well.

All this time. All this strength. All this softness. And she carried this underneath it all?

A wave of protectiveness rose in his chest, thick and sharp like a tide crashing against rocks. His jaw clenched as he stared down at her.... still sleeping, completely unaware of the storm building in his chest.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her shoulder.

"I’m going to find out what happened to you," he whispered.

"And whoever did this... I’ll make sure they regret it." He pulled the blanket up gently over her again, his hand resting protectively over the scars.

Mia slowly opened her eyes, half expecting to see an empty bed.

But Stefan was still there, lying beside her...... Watching her.

There was something in his gaze..... something that made her chest tighten. It wasn’t just love or desire. It was deeper. Protective. Fierce. Quietly breaking.

She blinked, then looked away. Why was he looking at her like that? What did she do while sleeping?

Then she realized. His hand was on her waist... right where the scars were.

Her breath caught.

She had forgotten. Forgotten that she hadn’t hidden those scars.... hadn’t even thought to.

She stilled.

Stefan noticed it. The way her body went rigid in his arms.

"Mia..." he said softly, eyes narrowing slightly. "What happened to you?" She didn’t answer.

Shen stared at the foam of the mattress, avoiding his gaze.

He sat up slowly, his tone sharper now. "Mia Meyer Sterling," he said through gritted teeth. "If you don’t start mentioning names right now, I swear I’ll find out myself... and it won’t be funny."

Her throat tightened. She swallowed.

And then, in a quiet voice, she said the last thing he expected to hear.

"I hurt myself." Her words made Stefan pause.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Stefan’s brows pulled together. "What?" Did he hear well? What did she mean by she had done these to herself?