Now They Want My Forgiveness - Chapter 168: Chapter 168
You are reading Now They Want My Forgiveness, Chapter 168: Chapter 168. Read more chapters of Now They Want My Forgiveness.
Jordan chuckled on the other end. "I'd love that, but I have a dinner party tonight. Wait—you didn't get an invitation?"
"What invitation?" Stella frowned.
"It's a chamber of commerce gala. Hayes Group is a member—maybe check with your team to see where your invite went."
Stella knew all about the chamber. Andrew had once campaigned to be its chairman, though if he'd succeeded, Seavale's economy would have been doomed.
"Got it. If I find it, I'll be there." The event was important. If she wanted to solidify her standing in Seavale, she needed to show face.
Before hanging up, she added, "Dinner is still happening. I owe you my thanks."
"Noted. And I won't let you weasel out of it."
She smiled as she ended the call, then turned to her assistants. "Does anyone know where my chamber invitation is?"
Luckily, it hadn't been misplaced. In fact, after HR spread the word about Stella's leadership—and her promise of a $150 monthly raise for all employees—morale had skyrocketed. The invitation was promptly delivered to her desk.
Stella understood the power of money better than most. After years in captivity, she knew what it meant to people. If she wanted loyalty, a pay raise was the fastest way to get it.
Stella took extra care getting ready for the gala. At the venue, she handed over her invitation and stepped inside.
The room was filled with familiar faces—some who greeted her warmly, others who only watched from afar. She made a beeline for a few key figures she wanted to network with.
Meanwhile, across the ballroom, a well-dressed socialite stood surrounded by admirers. When someone whispered Stella's name, the woman's gaze sharpened. "That's the woman who ruined my nephew?" she hissed.
"That's her," one of her companions sneered. "Don't let her innocent act fool you. She's got Mr. Erwin backing her, so she thinks she can do whatever she wants."
Lillian Carson's lips curled in disdain. Just days ago, she'd received a desperate call from Troy, her nephew, begging for help from behind bars. "The conditions are unbearable," he'd sobbed. "I can't take it anymore."
Lillian had only recently returned from abroad, where she'd been living with her children. She'd tried pulling strings to get Troy released, but her brother had made it clear—there was no way out.
Troy had already confessed, and with the public outcry, even if by some miracle he were freed, he'd be confined to house arrest.
But Stella? Stella had Jordan's protection, a man with enough power to keep them all at bay. The only consolation was that Kevin, the illegitimate son her brother had foolishly acknowledged, had taken over the company.
Lillian's jaw tightened. Her sister-in-law's endless weeping grated on her nerves. Of all her nieces and nephews, Troy was the only one she cared about. Kevin? A bastard, unworthy of the Carson name.
If she couldn't free Troy, she could at least make Stella pay.
With her husband's influence behind her, Lillian strode across the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Stella was mid-conversation when someone deliberately bumped into her. Even though Stella had stepped back to avoid the collision, the woman spun around with a theatrical gasp. "How dare you shove me?"
Stella's eyes narrowed. This was a setup.
The crowd turned to watch, but no one intervened. This wasn't their fight.
"You did that on purpose," Lillian declared, voice dripping with venom. She'd spent years cultivating her social circle, and her loyal followers immediately rallied behind her, their voices rising in accusation.
"We all saw it! She totally meant to do it."
"Troy's already in prison—hasn't he suffered enough? Why are you still causing trouble? Just because you're Jordan's wife, you think you're untouchable?"
The accusations came rapid-fire, a verbal onslaught meant to drown her.
Stella exhaled slowly. 'So this is about Troy.' She scanned the room—no allies, just spectators hungry for drama. There was no walking away from this unscathed.
Before she could speak, Lillian raised a hand. "Since you refuse to apologize, we'll have to teach you some manners ourselves."
Fingers yanked at Stella's hair. Someone clawed at her dress. Every time she tried to speak, a stinging slap cut her off.
Through the chaos, Stella locked eyes with Lillian. The woman smirked, examining her manicured nails as if to say, "This is what you get for messing with my nephew."
Stella wasn't about to take this lying down. She grabbed the nearest wrist and sank her teeth into flesh, biting down hard. The retaliation only earned her more vicious slaps and scratches.
A few onlookers edged closer to Lillian, murmuring warnings. "Come on, don't push it. Her husband is Jordan. If he shows up and sees this, it won't end well for anyone."
"Yeah, Jordan may be self-made, but his influence is real. Just let it go."
Lillian's eyes flashed with fury. 'Are they seriously using Jordan to intimidate me?'
Lillian said, "Jordan? Please. My husband could crush him without breaking a sweat. Do you really think I can't handle some no-name bitch? And even if I ruin Stella right here, right now—what's Jordan going to do about it?"
"Look, you've heard the stories. When Jordan loses his temper, he doesn't care about consequences."
Lillian scoffed. "He might not care about others, but he will care about crossing my husband. Today, Stella is getting what she deserves. End of discussion."
Stella was a mess—her hair yanked into wild tangles, her evening gown torn in places where greedy hands had clawed at it.
When glimpses of the scars beneath her clothes became visible, a few hesitated. But the moment passed, and they shoved her to the ground, nails digging into her skin like knives.
Pain. So much pain. Those women knew how to hurt her—pinching, twisting, leaving bruises that would ache for days. Stella gasped for air, her vision swimming. Then, a sharp click of heels echoed too close.
Someone stepped on her hand. Not just stepped—grinded the stiletto heel into her fingers, pressing down until Stella was sure the bones would snap.
Lillian loomed over her, voice dripping with false sweetness. "Stella, darling, do you finally admit you were wrong?"
Stella's strength was fading, but her defiance wasn't. "I'm not wrong."
"Really?" Lillian leaned harder.
"What invitation?" Stella frowned.
"It's a chamber of commerce gala. Hayes Group is a member—maybe check with your team to see where your invite went."
Stella knew all about the chamber. Andrew had once campaigned to be its chairman, though if he'd succeeded, Seavale's economy would have been doomed.
"Got it. If I find it, I'll be there." The event was important. If she wanted to solidify her standing in Seavale, she needed to show face.
Before hanging up, she added, "Dinner is still happening. I owe you my thanks."
"Noted. And I won't let you weasel out of it."
She smiled as she ended the call, then turned to her assistants. "Does anyone know where my chamber invitation is?"
Luckily, it hadn't been misplaced. In fact, after HR spread the word about Stella's leadership—and her promise of a $150 monthly raise for all employees—morale had skyrocketed. The invitation was promptly delivered to her desk.
Stella understood the power of money better than most. After years in captivity, she knew what it meant to people. If she wanted loyalty, a pay raise was the fastest way to get it.
Stella took extra care getting ready for the gala. At the venue, she handed over her invitation and stepped inside.
The room was filled with familiar faces—some who greeted her warmly, others who only watched from afar. She made a beeline for a few key figures she wanted to network with.
Meanwhile, across the ballroom, a well-dressed socialite stood surrounded by admirers. When someone whispered Stella's name, the woman's gaze sharpened. "That's the woman who ruined my nephew?" she hissed.
"That's her," one of her companions sneered. "Don't let her innocent act fool you. She's got Mr. Erwin backing her, so she thinks she can do whatever she wants."
Lillian Carson's lips curled in disdain. Just days ago, she'd received a desperate call from Troy, her nephew, begging for help from behind bars. "The conditions are unbearable," he'd sobbed. "I can't take it anymore."
Lillian had only recently returned from abroad, where she'd been living with her children. She'd tried pulling strings to get Troy released, but her brother had made it clear—there was no way out.
Troy had already confessed, and with the public outcry, even if by some miracle he were freed, he'd be confined to house arrest.
But Stella? Stella had Jordan's protection, a man with enough power to keep them all at bay. The only consolation was that Kevin, the illegitimate son her brother had foolishly acknowledged, had taken over the company.
Lillian's jaw tightened. Her sister-in-law's endless weeping grated on her nerves. Of all her nieces and nephews, Troy was the only one she cared about. Kevin? A bastard, unworthy of the Carson name.
If she couldn't free Troy, she could at least make Stella pay.
With her husband's influence behind her, Lillian strode across the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Stella was mid-conversation when someone deliberately bumped into her. Even though Stella had stepped back to avoid the collision, the woman spun around with a theatrical gasp. "How dare you shove me?"
Stella's eyes narrowed. This was a setup.
The crowd turned to watch, but no one intervened. This wasn't their fight.
"You did that on purpose," Lillian declared, voice dripping with venom. She'd spent years cultivating her social circle, and her loyal followers immediately rallied behind her, their voices rising in accusation.
"We all saw it! She totally meant to do it."
"Troy's already in prison—hasn't he suffered enough? Why are you still causing trouble? Just because you're Jordan's wife, you think you're untouchable?"
The accusations came rapid-fire, a verbal onslaught meant to drown her.
Stella exhaled slowly. 'So this is about Troy.' She scanned the room—no allies, just spectators hungry for drama. There was no walking away from this unscathed.
Before she could speak, Lillian raised a hand. "Since you refuse to apologize, we'll have to teach you some manners ourselves."
Fingers yanked at Stella's hair. Someone clawed at her dress. Every time she tried to speak, a stinging slap cut her off.
Through the chaos, Stella locked eyes with Lillian. The woman smirked, examining her manicured nails as if to say, "This is what you get for messing with my nephew."
Stella wasn't about to take this lying down. She grabbed the nearest wrist and sank her teeth into flesh, biting down hard. The retaliation only earned her more vicious slaps and scratches.
A few onlookers edged closer to Lillian, murmuring warnings. "Come on, don't push it. Her husband is Jordan. If he shows up and sees this, it won't end well for anyone."
"Yeah, Jordan may be self-made, but his influence is real. Just let it go."
Lillian's eyes flashed with fury. 'Are they seriously using Jordan to intimidate me?'
Lillian said, "Jordan? Please. My husband could crush him without breaking a sweat. Do you really think I can't handle some no-name bitch? And even if I ruin Stella right here, right now—what's Jordan going to do about it?"
"Look, you've heard the stories. When Jordan loses his temper, he doesn't care about consequences."
Lillian scoffed. "He might not care about others, but he will care about crossing my husband. Today, Stella is getting what she deserves. End of discussion."
Stella was a mess—her hair yanked into wild tangles, her evening gown torn in places where greedy hands had clawed at it.
When glimpses of the scars beneath her clothes became visible, a few hesitated. But the moment passed, and they shoved her to the ground, nails digging into her skin like knives.
Pain. So much pain. Those women knew how to hurt her—pinching, twisting, leaving bruises that would ache for days. Stella gasped for air, her vision swimming. Then, a sharp click of heels echoed too close.
Someone stepped on her hand. Not just stepped—grinded the stiletto heel into her fingers, pressing down until Stella was sure the bones would snap.
Lillian loomed over her, voice dripping with false sweetness. "Stella, darling, do you finally admit you were wrong?"
Stella's strength was fading, but her defiance wasn't. "I'm not wrong."
"Really?" Lillian leaned harder.
End of Now They Want My Forgiveness Chapter 168. Continue reading Chapter 169 or return to Now They Want My Forgiveness book page.