Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival! - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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"CRASH—"
"SMASH—"
Bodyguards swarmed in, shattering priceless antique vases, spilling rare wines across the floor, demolishing custom furniture until the entire villa became a wasteland in minutes.
Stella stood in the wreckage, expressionless as she watched it all.
Her nails dug deep into her palms, but she felt no pain.
These destroyed objects were like her shattered dignity—impossible to piece back together.
"Found it!" A bodyguard shouted from upstairs, holding up the gold-plated trophy.
Chase took the trophy and left with Sophia smugly in tow.
As they walked away, Sophia glanced back at Stella with a victorious smile.
"Stella, don't be upset," Marcus approached with gentle comfort. "Later on, we'll build you an identical villa."
"Yeah, we'll replace everything that got smashed," Preston and Damien chimed in.
Stella looked at them and suddenly laughed—a laugh dripping with sarcasm: "Aren't you guys tired... of pretending?"
The three froze: "What?"
Stella said nothing and walked away.
Stella moved into a new villa in the suburbs, staying locked up for days, just waiting for Ryder to return.
It wasn't until the night before her birthday that she finally went out to the city's most upscale boutique to pick a dress.
But the moment she walked in, she saw Sophia.
Both women had their eyes on the same gown.
"I want this dress," Stella said flatly.
The sales associate recognized Stella immediately and groveled: "Miss Whitmore has exquisite taste! This gown is globally limited—only someone of your status deserves it!"
With that, she shot Sophia a contemptuous look: "As for certain people... they should look at something else. This kind of haute couture isn't for commoners."
Sophia's eyes welled up as she immediately called someone: "Chase... come quick... I'm being bullied..."
Stella's heart sank, instantly sensing trouble.
She didn't even change out of the dress before bolting for the exit.
But just as she reached the parking garage—
"THUD!"
Sharp pain exploded in the back of her head as everything went black.
When consciousness slowly returned, Stella found herself suspended from the exterior wall of Whitmore Tower.
Sixty-nine floors up, freezing wind cut through her skin like knives. Looking down, she realized she wore only underwear and a bra, her exposed skin turning blue from the cold.
"Awake?"
Chase's icy voice came from above.
Stella looked up with difficulty, meeting those eyes that once mesmerized her—now filled only with bone-deep coldness.
It was him...
He'd personally stripped her naked and hung her from this skyscraper?!
Stella's pupils dilated as her heart felt crushed by an invisible hand.
Before she could question him, Chase was already leaning down, his long fingers gripping her chin.
"Stella, you like competing with Sophia so much? Then remember today's lesson. Next time you try to steal from her, think about whether you can handle the consequences."
With that, he released her and turned away without even a spare glance.
Stella heard his footsteps fade, followed by muffled conversation from the stairwell.
"Gotta make her suffer for messing with Sophia," Marcus's voice was coldly cruel.
"Pick her up in an hour?" Preston adjusted his glasses casually, like discussing the weather.
"Why not leave her hanging all day? She won't die," Damien laughed along. "Perfect time for us to buy Sophia a new dress."
Their footsteps gradually disappeared, leaving Stella alone suspended sixty-nine floors above the city.
Stella shivered uncontrollably, her lips turning purple from cold.
She gritted her teeth as tears flowed freely.
Why...
Why were they treating her like this?
She'd thought that even without love, they'd at least have some childhood loyalty.
But now she saw they treated her worse than strangers.
The next morning, early commuters stopped and stared, pointing at Stella hanging in midair.
"Oh my God! Isn't that the Whitmore heiress?"
"How'd she end up hanging there? And dressed like... that?"
"Tsk, how embarrassing..."
Stella looked down at the ant-like crowd below, dying of shame, wanting to just let go and jump.
Just then, Marcus, Preston, and Damien showed up.
"Stella! We're so sorry!" Marcus rushed over looking "frantic." "We just found out Chase hung you up here!"
Preston quickly wrapped his jacket around her shivering form: "Don't be scared, we're getting you down."
Damien knelt down, his voice soft: "Sorry, we promise this'll never happen again."
Stella slowly looked up at their fake masks and suddenly laughed—that laugh was heartbreakingly desolate.
"Get lost."
The three froze: "Stella?"
"I said GET LOST." Stella pushed them away, struggling to stand. "Every bit of pain I've suffered came from YOU!"
"SMASH—"
Bodyguards swarmed in, shattering priceless antique vases, spilling rare wines across the floor, demolishing custom furniture until the entire villa became a wasteland in minutes.
Stella stood in the wreckage, expressionless as she watched it all.
Her nails dug deep into her palms, but she felt no pain.
These destroyed objects were like her shattered dignity—impossible to piece back together.
"Found it!" A bodyguard shouted from upstairs, holding up the gold-plated trophy.
Chase took the trophy and left with Sophia smugly in tow.
As they walked away, Sophia glanced back at Stella with a victorious smile.
"Stella, don't be upset," Marcus approached with gentle comfort. "Later on, we'll build you an identical villa."
"Yeah, we'll replace everything that got smashed," Preston and Damien chimed in.
Stella looked at them and suddenly laughed—a laugh dripping with sarcasm: "Aren't you guys tired... of pretending?"
The three froze: "What?"
Stella said nothing and walked away.
Stella moved into a new villa in the suburbs, staying locked up for days, just waiting for Ryder to return.
It wasn't until the night before her birthday that she finally went out to the city's most upscale boutique to pick a dress.
But the moment she walked in, she saw Sophia.
Both women had their eyes on the same gown.
"I want this dress," Stella said flatly.
The sales associate recognized Stella immediately and groveled: "Miss Whitmore has exquisite taste! This gown is globally limited—only someone of your status deserves it!"
With that, she shot Sophia a contemptuous look: "As for certain people... they should look at something else. This kind of haute couture isn't for commoners."
Sophia's eyes welled up as she immediately called someone: "Chase... come quick... I'm being bullied..."
Stella's heart sank, instantly sensing trouble.
She didn't even change out of the dress before bolting for the exit.
But just as she reached the parking garage—
"THUD!"
Sharp pain exploded in the back of her head as everything went black.
When consciousness slowly returned, Stella found herself suspended from the exterior wall of Whitmore Tower.
Sixty-nine floors up, freezing wind cut through her skin like knives. Looking down, she realized she wore only underwear and a bra, her exposed skin turning blue from the cold.
"Awake?"
Chase's icy voice came from above.
Stella looked up with difficulty, meeting those eyes that once mesmerized her—now filled only with bone-deep coldness.
It was him...
He'd personally stripped her naked and hung her from this skyscraper?!
Stella's pupils dilated as her heart felt crushed by an invisible hand.
Before she could question him, Chase was already leaning down, his long fingers gripping her chin.
"Stella, you like competing with Sophia so much? Then remember today's lesson. Next time you try to steal from her, think about whether you can handle the consequences."
With that, he released her and turned away without even a spare glance.
Stella heard his footsteps fade, followed by muffled conversation from the stairwell.
"Gotta make her suffer for messing with Sophia," Marcus's voice was coldly cruel.
"Pick her up in an hour?" Preston adjusted his glasses casually, like discussing the weather.
"Why not leave her hanging all day? She won't die," Damien laughed along. "Perfect time for us to buy Sophia a new dress."
Their footsteps gradually disappeared, leaving Stella alone suspended sixty-nine floors above the city.
Stella shivered uncontrollably, her lips turning purple from cold.
She gritted her teeth as tears flowed freely.
Why...
Why were they treating her like this?
She'd thought that even without love, they'd at least have some childhood loyalty.
But now she saw they treated her worse than strangers.
The next morning, early commuters stopped and stared, pointing at Stella hanging in midair.
"Oh my God! Isn't that the Whitmore heiress?"
"How'd she end up hanging there? And dressed like... that?"
"Tsk, how embarrassing..."
Stella looked down at the ant-like crowd below, dying of shame, wanting to just let go and jump.
Just then, Marcus, Preston, and Damien showed up.
"Stella! We're so sorry!" Marcus rushed over looking "frantic." "We just found out Chase hung you up here!"
Preston quickly wrapped his jacket around her shivering form: "Don't be scared, we're getting you down."
Damien knelt down, his voice soft: "Sorry, we promise this'll never happen again."
Stella slowly looked up at their fake masks and suddenly laughed—that laugh was heartbreakingly desolate.
"Get lost."
The three froze: "Stella?"
"I said GET LOST." Stella pushed them away, struggling to stand. "Every bit of pain I've suffered came from YOU!"
End of Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival! Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to Reborn? Screw the Fake Lover—I'm Snagging My Arch-Rival! book page.