Chapter 1095: Chapter 1095: The Chick in the Nightclub
After Stella Charlie recovered, she didn’t go back to school.
She took the card Vincent Warner had given her and went to stores she’d never been willing to step into before.
She bought a lot of clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry.
She went to a styling studio, got a perm, did her nails...
Watching the nonstop deduction notifications on his phone, Vincent Warner naturally saw that Stella was acting out of character.
Once he’d calmed down, he also reflected on how his behavior had hurt her.
He took the initiative to call her.
"Where are you?"
"Shopping."
"Send me the address."
Vincent drove over, and when he saw Stella standing by the roadside waiting, he frowned.
She’d dyed her black hair yellow and permed it into big waves. Her bare face was now covered with delicate makeup. She was wearing a tight, sexy long dress, adorned with jewelry, and high heels on her feet.
Standing by the road like that, people’s eyes would inevitably fall on her.
Vincent didn’t deny that she was stunningly beautiful like this, but it was also highly abnormal.
Stella took the initiative to walk to the car, pulled open the passenger door, and got in.
Through the gaps when her long hair brushed aside, the marks he’d left that morning from using too much force could be vaguely seen on the exposed skin of her back.
Stella hooked her red lips and smiled at him.
Beneath the heavy makeup, her smile was still sweet and innocent.
She lifted her freshly manicured fingers and asked him, "Pretty?"
On the way over, Vincent had thought of a lot of things to say, but now, faced with this abnormal Stella, he couldn’t use a single line.
"Pretty."
Stella smiled while looking straight ahead at the front of the car. Her smile was pure, but her tone carried a trace of mockery and sarcasm: "Now that I’ve got a half-decent look, if you have any social events in the future, Mr. Warner, you can bring me along, right? I won’t embarrass you like this, will I?"
"Stella..."
That single "Mr. Warner" sent a chill through Vincent’s heart.
Stella was still smiling brightly: "The money on the card is almost gone. Remember to top it up for me."
Vincent drew in a breath, paused, and said, "Okay."
He didn’t know how to deal with this version of Stella, so he could only go along with her, hoping she’d go back to normal soon.
"I’m hungry." Stella looked at the restaurant outside the car window.
Vincent found a spot and parked the car.
"After we eat, you’re going back to school for class."
"Mm-hmm."
She seemed obedient again, but it made Vincent feel indescribably ill at ease.
Vincent dropped her off at the old intersection, but Stella stayed put in the car and said, "Could you please drive me to the teaching building? My heels are too high, I don’t feel like walking."
She got out of Vincent’s car in a high-profile manner. The chatter from that morning hadn’t died down yet, and Stella had undoubtedly just delivered them fresh gossip material.
Stella walked toward the teaching building as if no one else existed.
Two girls followed behind her, deliberately raising their voices: "No matter how you dress up, you can’t turn into a phoenix. At best, you’re just a whore in a nightclub."
They hadn’t named names, so Stella pretended they weren’t talking about her.
She had just walked into the classroom and sat down when a group of girls led by Yvonne Quincy came over to her desk and humiliated her in front of everyone: "Classmate Charlie doesn’t even bother hiding it now, huh? You’re just short of writing the word ’whore’ across your face."
As she spoke, the girl even reached out and patted Stella’s face. "You really are such a cheap slut. I think you—"
"Smack—" Before the girl could finish, Stella stood up and slapped her hard across the face.
The onlookers, who’d gathered for the show, all froze for a moment. After all, in their impression, Stella was just a soft persimmon.
When people pointed and whispered about her, she would only slip away quietly and hide to cry in secret.
No one had ever thought she’d hit back.
