There were two reasons Simon was doing this.
One—he wanted her. Not in the way a man desires a woman, but in the way a predator claims its prey. She was something he craved, something that pulled him toward her like an unsolvable riddle, a temptation wrapped in fire.
And two—he knew she wasn't human.
That was the part that fascinated him the most. If she wasn't human, then what was she? The thought gnawed at him, burned through his veins like an unsatisfied hunger. He needed to know.
And he would.
Meeting the six women only confirmed his suspicions—Stella was in danger. A danger she likely didn't even realize.
But more than that, it confirmed something else.
Among them, she was the only one who wasn't human.
A slow, sinister smile played on Simon's lips.
And he had every intention of finding out exactly what she was.
After a few days, Stella still had an hour left before she was done with work. She pulled out her phone and called Rocco.
"Hey, can you pick me up? I dropped my car off for repairs," she said.
Rocco let out a small sigh but didn't hesitate. "Fine. I'll be there in about 50 minutes," he said before hanging up.
When she finished work, Stella headed downstairs and spotted Rocco's car idling near the curb. She slipped into the passenger seat, fastening her seatbelt.
"Sorry for the trouble," she said, glancing at him.
"Don't worry about it," Rocco replied, pulling onto the road.
A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. "So… has that asshole been bothering you?"
Stella shook her head. "No, actually. After he apologized, he's been decent. Surprisingly."
Rocco frowned. "Wait—what apology?"
"He apologized for his behavior. Said he was sorry for everything," Stella explained, watching Rocco's reaction.
He nodded slowly, gripping the wheel. "You think he's trustworthy?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm keeping my distance just in case."
When they arrived home, Stella unbuckled her seatbelt and gave Rocco a small smile. "Thanks for the ride. I promise I won't bother you again."
"Yeah, yeah," Rocco muttered as she shut the door. He drove off while Stella headed inside.
Needing to unwind, she ran a hot bath, letting the warmth sink into her muscles. Once she felt relaxed, she changed into her nightwear and settled in for the evening.
Still feeling restless, she grabbed her laptop and worked for about an hour before finally setting it aside.She didn't bother shutting her laptop. With a sigh, she turned on the TV, flipping to a comedy show. The familiar sound of laughter filled the room, and she leaned back, letting herself get lost in the mindless entertainment.
Meanwhile, in the dim glow of his study, Simon leaned back in his chair, fingers effortlessly gliding over the keyboard as lines of code flashed across the screen. A smirk tugged at his lips as he sipped his coffee, his eyes narrowing with sharp focus.
He had been at this for a while now, maneuvering through security layers, decrypting firewalls, and tracking digital footprints. And finally—
"Found you," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction.
With a few more keystrokes, he bypassed the last layer of protection, infiltrating her network. Her IP address blinked on his screen, and within seconds, he had full access to her phone and laptop.
Cracking his knuckles, he leaned in, his smirk widening as he initiated the next step. A single click, and her laptop camera flickered to life.
The screen adjusted, and there she was.
Stella sat on the couch, lost in laughter at something playing on the TV. Her head tilted back slightly as she took a sip from her mug, completely unaware of the watchful eyes on the other side. She was dressed casually—an oversized white shirt and soft blue shorts—her golden hair still tied up in that signature messy bun.
Simon's gaze darkened.
He wanted to see her with her hair down.
To see it spill over her shoulders, framing that delicate face the way it was meant to.
His fingers twitched against the keyboard.
This was only the beginning.
His smirk faltered as his eyes narrowed, locking onto something he hadn't noticed before.
A dark inked mark on her hand.
A tattoo.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, his curiosity sharpening into something more dangerous. Stella always covered herself—long sleeves, high necks, layers that left little exposed. It wasn't just a preference. It was intentional.
But why?
Simon set his coffee mug down, no longer interested in the bitter taste. Instead, he pulled his legs up onto the chair, leaning forward, gaze fixed on the screen. His smirk returned, slower this time, more deliberate.
What was she hiding beneath those layers?
And why did he suddenly have the overwhelming urge to find out?
His fingers twitched, but he didn't press another key. Not yet.
For now, he just watched.
A sudden idea struck him, sharp and electrifying. His smirk deepened as he reached for his phone, dialing a familiar number.
The line barely rang twice before a voice answered.
"Boss?"
"Henry," Simon murmured, his gaze never leaving the screen where Stella sat, completely unaware of the eyes watching her. "You're being transferred to another branch,"Simon ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Henry hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you want me to find a replacement, boss?"
A slow smirk curled on Simon's lips. "No need," he said smoothly. "I've already chosen someone."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "Already? That was fast."
Simon leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together, his smirk deep and unreadable. "Let's just say… I've had my eyes on the candidate for a while."
Henry hesitated. There was something about the way Simon said it, something laced with amusement and something darker—something possessive.
"And does the candidate know she's been chosen?" Henry asked carefully.
Simon let out a low chuckle. "Not yet." His gaze flickered to the screen, where Stella was still lost in her own world, unaware of the storm brewing around her.