Left Them Loved Myself (Stella Spencer) novel Chapter 186

Chapter 186

Stella smiled as well, but there was nothing warm about it—just icy defense in her eyes. “I’m only watching out for you.

“If my hand slips and it ends up deep, you could run off flaunting the wound, accusing me of assault. What a mess that would be.”

Sylvia didn’t bother denying it–after all, that was exactly part of her backup plan.

Her gaze lingered on Stella for a moment before she suddenly called out her name, her tone oddly layered.

“Stella?”

Stella answered, her knife still held steady. “Yeah?”

“If we weren’t on opposite sides-” Sylvia’s voice grew low, a barely audible sigh laced in her words.

“Honestly, I think we could’ve been the kind of friends people envy,” she murmured, a trace of regret lingering.

They were too much alike–equally brilliant, equally relentless, equally ruthless in chasing their goals, even if it meant putting everything, even their lives, on the line.

“No.” Stella’s reply was ice–cold and final, smashing any fragile hint of connection Sylvia might’ve reached for.

She flicked her wrist, pulling the knife back, but her eyes only grew sharper, filled with an undeniable, steely resolve.

Sylvia looked up, locking eyes with Stella–just as deep as her own, but missing that fierce, all–devouring ambition.

And this time, Stella’s expression was more serious than Sylvia had ever seen.

“Sylvia, you and I are worlds apart,” Stella shot back, her voice ringing out with a force that felt like it could smash through stone.

“You’re willing to twist yourself into a monster, just for your ambition, for that throne of ultimate power. You’ll do absolutely anything, no matter the cost,” she added.

Light poured from above, outlining Stella in a misty, almost supernatural glow.

She stood tall and firm, her features blurred by the shifting light–but her resolve was unmistakable, like some distant deity gazing down from the heavens. Even her voice held an unyielding gravity that demanded attention.

“As for me? I do this for my family, for my friends, for everything that truly matters to me. That’s the gulf between us–a divide you will never cross,” smiled Stella.

Sylvia didn’t say a thing in reply to Stella’s words. She just paused at the doorway, turning back to give Stella one last, lingering look–so intense it felt as if she was trying to peer straight into Stella’s heart.

Her eyes held a tangle of emotions–scrutiny, curiosity, maybe even a tiny ripple of something else, so subtle that even Sylvia herself might’ve missed it.

She turned away, her silhouette slowly fading into the shadows of the hallway, her lonely figure swallowed up by the darkness, all by herself.

Stella watched Sylvia’s silhouette fade away–her heart utterly untouched by pity.

In the adult world, every decision came with a price tag. One walked a path lined with thorns and ambition; one would better be ready to swallow whatever fallout comes your way.

Regret wouldn’t change anything.

Click.

The door swung open again, and this time, Erica burst in like a whirlwind.

“Stella, I just saw Sylvia strutting out from your room at the hallway corner,” Erica called out the moment she stepped in, face tight with worry.

“Did she come to give you hell? Was she trying to push you around while I wasn’t here?” Erica rolled up her sleeves, looking ready to march right out and throw down at the drop of a hat.

Stella quickly grabbed Erica before she could blow a fuse, half amused, half exasperated. “No, she didn’t mess with me.”

“Then what’s with her showing up here in the middle of the night, dressed all in white like some ghost? Is she trying to scare you or what?” Erica huffed, clearly not hiding her utter disdain for Sylvia.

“Probably just testing the waters,” Stella said.

She pulled Erica down to sit with her, explaining, “You know, tonight we’re going to Lloyd Manor, and Ernest’s the one I’m after. Of course, she wouldn’t just leave it alone.

“If she didn’t come over to probe me and figure out what I’m planning, now that would be weird.”

Erica, whose motto was pretty much less talk, more action, looked genuinely puzzled. “Testing? So, what’d she get out of it? Did she figure out what you’re scheming?”

Stella’s gaze briefly darkened, but she dodged the question. “More or less,” she replied noncommittally. “She probably found whatever it was she came for.”

Deciding not to let Erica get sucked into all this drama, Stella steered things off–topic. “Anyway, forget her. It’s getting late–we should get going. Let’s eat something quick before we head out, or we won’t have time to make it back.”

Erica thought back to the last time they’d stayed over at the Jansen Manor and asked casually, “Oh, right—are we staying at Lloyd Manor tonight?”

Stella grabbed her hand and dragged her out the door, half–joking, half–serious. “Stay there? Not a chance. I’m worried you might lose control and actually tear Lloyd Manor down. Besides, those two women are trouble.”

Erica scoffed, rolling her eyes and waving her tiny fist, “Please, as long as those nosy bitches don’t mess with you, I couldn’t care less about them. Do they even deserve my attention?”

Joking and laughing, the two walked out of the hospital room, their figures quickly slipping around the staircase corner, leaving the sound of carefree laughter behind.

No one even realized that, right after Stella and Erica left, a figure was leaning against the cold door of a hospital room diagonally across the hallway.

Sylvia pressed her ear against the door, clearly hearing the laughter and chatter of Stella and Erica echoing

from outside.

That sound was so genuine, steeped in trust and warmth–the kind of thing she’d never had in her life.

In the shadows, deep within Sylvia’s ever–ambitious eyes, something minuscule seemed to tremble for a split second.

But just as quickly, her expression snapped back to calm, so fast it was almost like that flicker had never even existed.

The night outside was as thick as velvet ink, drenching the sky in pitch–black. Inside Lloyd Manor, though, every light blazed, making the place bright as midday.

A giant crystal chandelier sprayed a cascade of glittering light, making every inch of the luxurious living room pop with detail.

Figures drifted around. Kourtney cradled a bone cup, her every move just oozing elegance, while Noreen slouched on the sofa, lazily flipping through a glossy fashion mag.

The butler and a handful of maids waited in total silence nearby, and you could feel it–the whole scene vibed with a kind of obviously staged, fake liveliness and peace.

But the moment Stella and Erica walked into the entryway, the whole room’s fake buzz was instantly put on pause.

The air went dead still.

Kourtney froze mid–move, her cup stalled halfway to her lips. Noreen’s fingers just stopped, her smile stiffening into a sarcastic arc.

The maids and servants seemed to turn into statues, eyes down and faces blank, acting like Stella and Erica didn’t exist at all.

The butler, standing not far off, glanced their way–helplessness and apology flickered in his eyes for a split second before he ducked his head, obviously following strict orders to ice out these two unwelcome guests.

The blatant snub and cold shoulder hit Stella and Erica like a bucket of ice water the moment they walked in.

Before Stella could even get a word out, Erica was already ready to blow a fuse.

“Noreen,” Erica shouted, her voice ringing out like a gunshot in the dead silence of the living room.

With hands planted firmly on her hips and her big, round eyes blazing, she looked like a tiny, furious animal -zeroing in on Noreen lounging on the sofa.

“Quit playing dead–get out here and explain yourself. Who do you think you’re fooling with this whole act?” Erica snapped, voice sharp and brimming with fire.