Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival! - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival!, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival!.
When Stella opened her eyes, harsh white light made her instinctively raise her hand to shield them. The needle marks covering her arm reminded her of that forced blood extraction.
"Stella! You're finally awake!"
Marcus was first to rush to her bedside, his eyes supposedly full of "concern." He reached to touch her face, but Stella reflexively turned away.
"Sorry we were late," Preston's voice was gentle enough to melt butter. "Chase went way too far! How could he force you to donate blood?"
Damien handed her warm water: "Just rest up. We're gonna go settle things with Chase right now."
Stella watched their terrible acting, her throat dry and burning.
She knew this scene too well—in her past life, whenever Chase gave her the cold shoulder, these three would swoop in with sweet words to fill the void.
And then? Then they'd find excuses to leave and comfort Sophia.
"Don't bother," her voice was hoarse. "I wanna be alone."
The three exchanged glances before Marcus stood up: "Okay, you rest first. We'll just... be right back."
They left in a hurry, not even bothering to close the door properly. Stella stared at the crack, hearing their hushed conversation in the hallway:
"Is Sophia awake yet?"
"Chase won't let anyone see her..."
"Let's grab her favorite desserts from that place..."
When the door finally closed, Stella laughed through her tears.
She was so tired—too tired to even expose their lies.
Over the next few days, Stella lay alone in the hospital bed.
The nurses changing her bandages would look at her with pity before sighing and walking away.
"Miss Whitmore, didn't your friends come today either?" one asked.
Stella shook her head, glancing at the wilting lilies on her nightstand—Marcus had brought them three days ago.
The petals were yellowing and curled, just like their fake concern.
Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from Preston: [Stella, company emergency overseas. We've hired the best caregiver for you—don't worry.]
Then Damien: [Princess, we'll bring you presents when we get back!]
Finally Marcus: [Rest up, we'll take you to that French place you love when we return.]
Stella tossed her phone aside.
She didn't care if they came or not, but the caregivers they'd hired were impossibly clumsy—scalding water splashed on her hands, IV lines backed up unnoticed, bandage changes that made her wince in pain...
Finally, her injuries weren't healing—they were getting worse with new burns and bruises.
"I'm checking out," Stella finally snapped, ignoring all protests as she processed her discharge.
Meanwhile, Marcus, Preston, and Damien returned from their so-called business trip, specially coming to pick her up.
Passing the VIP ward, muffled conversation drifted through a cracked door.
"Just one more sip, okay?" Chase's voice was deep and indulgent. "The doctor says you need more nutrition."
Stella stopped in her tracks, catching sight through the gap of Chase delicately feeding Sophia soup, treating her like she was made of glass.
"Mr. Ravenwood hasn't left Miss Montgomery's side," a passing nurse whispered to her colleague. "Even canceled board meetings. So devoted."
Stella's fingers unconsciously tightened on her clothes.
"Stella..." Marcus immediately stepped forward, his handsome face full of fake sympathy. "Don't be upset. Chase has no taste, but we like you."
"Yeah," Preston's voice was gentle. "At the birthday party, you can pick one of us three."
Damien chimed in: "We'll definitely treat you right."
Stella smiled lightly, but her eyes were ice-cold: "I don't wanna pick anyone."
She slowly looked up, enunciating each word: "I wouldn't choose any of you four."
"Stella! You're finally awake!"
Marcus was first to rush to her bedside, his eyes supposedly full of "concern." He reached to touch her face, but Stella reflexively turned away.
"Sorry we were late," Preston's voice was gentle enough to melt butter. "Chase went way too far! How could he force you to donate blood?"
Damien handed her warm water: "Just rest up. We're gonna go settle things with Chase right now."
Stella watched their terrible acting, her throat dry and burning.
She knew this scene too well—in her past life, whenever Chase gave her the cold shoulder, these three would swoop in with sweet words to fill the void.
And then? Then they'd find excuses to leave and comfort Sophia.
"Don't bother," her voice was hoarse. "I wanna be alone."
The three exchanged glances before Marcus stood up: "Okay, you rest first. We'll just... be right back."
They left in a hurry, not even bothering to close the door properly. Stella stared at the crack, hearing their hushed conversation in the hallway:
"Is Sophia awake yet?"
"Chase won't let anyone see her..."
"Let's grab her favorite desserts from that place..."
When the door finally closed, Stella laughed through her tears.
She was so tired—too tired to even expose their lies.
Over the next few days, Stella lay alone in the hospital bed.
The nurses changing her bandages would look at her with pity before sighing and walking away.
"Miss Whitmore, didn't your friends come today either?" one asked.
Stella shook her head, glancing at the wilting lilies on her nightstand—Marcus had brought them three days ago.
The petals were yellowing and curled, just like their fake concern.
Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from Preston: [Stella, company emergency overseas. We've hired the best caregiver for you—don't worry.]
Then Damien: [Princess, we'll bring you presents when we get back!]
Finally Marcus: [Rest up, we'll take you to that French place you love when we return.]
Stella tossed her phone aside.
She didn't care if they came or not, but the caregivers they'd hired were impossibly clumsy—scalding water splashed on her hands, IV lines backed up unnoticed, bandage changes that made her wince in pain...
Finally, her injuries weren't healing—they were getting worse with new burns and bruises.
"I'm checking out," Stella finally snapped, ignoring all protests as she processed her discharge.
Meanwhile, Marcus, Preston, and Damien returned from their so-called business trip, specially coming to pick her up.
Passing the VIP ward, muffled conversation drifted through a cracked door.
"Just one more sip, okay?" Chase's voice was deep and indulgent. "The doctor says you need more nutrition."
Stella stopped in her tracks, catching sight through the gap of Chase delicately feeding Sophia soup, treating her like she was made of glass.
"Mr. Ravenwood hasn't left Miss Montgomery's side," a passing nurse whispered to her colleague. "Even canceled board meetings. So devoted."
Stella's fingers unconsciously tightened on her clothes.
"Stella..." Marcus immediately stepped forward, his handsome face full of fake sympathy. "Don't be upset. Chase has no taste, but we like you."
"Yeah," Preston's voice was gentle. "At the birthday party, you can pick one of us three."
Damien chimed in: "We'll definitely treat you right."
Stella smiled lightly, but her eyes were ice-cold: "I don't wanna pick anyone."
She slowly looked up, enunciating each word: "I wouldn't choose any of you four."
End of Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival! Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival! book page.