Chapter 44

▫️Stella's pov...

I woke up feeling warm and happy, my mind replaying last night’s date with Christian. It was one of those rare moments where he wasn’t acting like a mafia boss or a grumpy idiot. But as I reached over to his side of the bed, I realized it was empty. My smile disappeared.

“Where is he?” I muttered, rubbing my eyes. Work, obviously. That man is married to his stuff.

I grabbed my phone to check for a message and found one from him:

"Good morning, my beautiful troublemaker. I had to leave early for work, and you looked way too cute sleeping to wake you up. Don’t miss me too much—I'll be back tomorrow, and then you’re stuck with me. Love you more than you love annoying me."

I smiled at his sweet gesture, but at the same time, I was fuming. He could’ve woken me up! Now I have to wait an entire day to see him again. Great.

To make my point, I clicked a selfie, pouting dramatically, and sent it to him. Let him feel my pain.

With nothing else to do, I got ready for the day. I peeked into Ava’s room, but she was still asleep, drooling on her pillow. No way I’m waking her up. I decided to hang out with Pumpkin, only she can fuck the boredom.

Pumpkin and I had breakfast together—well, I ate while she begged for scraps. Afterward, we played fetch for a while, which is more of me throwing the ball and Pumpkin deciding it’s her new chew toy.

Around 11, Ava finally emerged, her hair a mess and her stomach growling louder than her voice.

“Morning,” she mumbled as we hugged. “I’m starving.”

I laughed. “Go eat before you pass out.”

She scarfed down her breakfast and joined me on the couch to play with Pumpkin. She laughed at Pumpkin’s name.

“Seriously, Pumpkin? Out of all the names?” Ava teased, scratching behind her ears.

“She looks like a Pumpkin! Don’t judge me,” I replied, defending my baby.

After a while, Ava stretched and said, “Let’s go shopping. It’s just us today, so why not?”

I agreed immediately. Anything to escape the boredom. We handed Pumpkin over to the guard, and Ava pulled out a Ferrari. I happily claimed my role as passenger princess. Of course, we had four cars of guards tailing us because Titan insisted on security. Not that we minded—it felt very mafia chic.

First stop: clothes shopping. Ava and I went wild, grabbing everything from comfy daily outfits to gorgeous dresses and killer heels. I tried on a short dress that made Ava whistle.

“Chris is going to die when he sees you in that,” she said, winking.

I rolled my eyes but secretly hoped she was right.

Next stop: fast food. It had been forever since I had a burger, and we devoured everything like we hadn’t eaten in days. Then we hit a soft toy shop and went a little crazy. Everything was so cute that we couldn’t decide what to buy—so we just bought everything.

“We’re like kids in a candy store,” Ava laughed, her arms full of plushies.

“Mafia girls with a weakness for stuffed animals. Very intimidating,” I joked.

After that, it was time for some self-care. We got our nails done—Ava went for a bold red, while I chose a pastel blue. “Mafia vibes,” she joked. We hit the salon next. Ava just trimmed her hair, but I decided to get a butterfly cut.

“Girl, this suits you so much,” Ava gasped when she saw the result.

I grinned. “I was bored with the old look. New hair, new me.”

Feeling adventurous, we ended the day at a tattoo shop. I’d wanted one for ages, so I got a small butterfly tattoo near my collarbone. It hurt, but it was worth it. Ava cheered me on the whole time, teasing me about crying.

By the time we finished, it was already night. We laughed at how many things were still on our to-do list and decided to save them for tomorrow. Back home, we had dinner together, chatting about random stuff.

“Has something like the info leak ever happened before?” I asked Ava as casually as I could.

She shook her head. “No, it’s rare. Don’t stress about it. It’s probably minor. Everything will be fine.”

Her reassurance helped, but I still felt uneasy.

In my room, I arranged my new soft toys—some on the bed, some in the cupboard. Tonight’s choice was a cute penguin. Soft toys as per my mood—don’t judge.Scrolling through my phone, I saw a message request: "Wanna talk?" Ugh. Another creep. I blocked him without a second thought.

Christian had only sent hearts in response to my pouty selfie, but at least I knew he was okay. I sent him a quick Good night and went to bed, hugging my penguin.

---

The next morning, the first thing I did was check my phone. No reply from Christian. My stomach twisted with worry. Is he okay? I needed to ask Ava if she’d heard anything.

I quickly got ready and headed straight to Ava, who greeted me with a bright smile. I asked her, “What’s got you grinning this early?” She told me she’d received a good morning message from MJ.

I felt relieved, but my brain—my overthinking brain—couldn’t stop itself.

"But chris didn't replied."

What if something happened to Christian? My chest tightened. Ava noticed my expression and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t even start. They’re mafia leaders, top-tier badasses for a reason. Trust them blindly. Everything is fine.”

Her words calmed me instantly. “You’re right,” I said, nodding, though my inner drama queen still whispered doubts.

We sat down for breakfast, laughing and deciding to head out for some girl-time since the guys had gone out.  The day’s adventure? Piercings.

Not for me, though. Ava was the brave one here.

---later...

We found ourselves at a shop called Pierced & Proud, a trendy little place tucked into a vibrant street corner. The exterior had neon signs of earrings and piercings, and the inside was clean but edgy, with posters of pierced models lining the walls and a faint buzz of rock music playing.

The shopkeeper greeted us with a casual, “Hey, what can I do for you ladies?”

I pointed at Ava with a grin. “She’s the one here for the pain.”

Ava smirked. “Lip piercing,” she said confidently.

The shopkeeper, a heavily pierced guy with a nose ring and tattoo sleeves, nodded and pulled out a tray of samples. “Pick your weapon of choice.”

We browsed the designs, and Ava chose one with a single ring that had another tiny layer hanging freely at the bottom. It looked classy but edgy—so Ava.

“Let’s do this,” she said, walking into the back like a queen, while I stayed in the waiting area. She wasn’t scared in the slightest—no need for moral support from me.

---

While waiting, a guy walked in and sat down nearby. He was tall with messy brown hair and sharp features, wearing a black jacket that screamed, I’m trying too hard to look casual. He looked at me and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Kevin,” he said.

I nodded politely. “Hello, I’m Stella.”

The polite introductions turned into casual small talk. He told me he was a DJ, and I found it kind of fascinating.

“Nice. A DJ, huh?” I said. “That’s cool.”

He smiled. “Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. What about you?”

“I’m an author,” I replied casually, keeping the details vague.

“Wow, that’s interesting,” he said, not pushing for specifics. “You must have a lot of stories in your head, then.”

I nodded with a small smile. He respected my privacy, which was refreshing. Kevin seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and we kept talking about random topics—music, books, and even how people can be oddly creative with their piercings.

Ava soon returned, looking absolutely stunning. If she was hot before, now she was a full-blown fire hazard.

“Global warming has a name, and it’s Ava,” I joked, making her laugh.

We left the shop, chatting excitedly about how the guys were going to freak out about her new look. “They’ll regret leaving us behind and getting bored in Russia,” Ava teased.

“Wait, they really went to Russia?” I asked, confused.

Ava nodded. “That’s what Christian told MJ. Guess Chris the Parrot didn’t inform you. Teach him a lesson when he comes back.”

I just laughed.

---

Back at the house, we decided to get ready before the boys returned. I planned to show off my tattoo, so I wore jeans with a sleeveless top that perfectly displayed it. I left most of my hair down but pushed some to the opposite side of my tattoo for dramatic effect.

Satisfied, I relaxed on my bed for a bit, scrolling through my phone. Still no reply from Christian. Typical. Then, a message request popped up:

“Your boyfriend is cheating on you. I have proof.”

I stared at it, blinking. Liar. There was no way Christian would cheat. If he wanted another girl, he wouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with me in the first place.But still, my overthinking wouldn’t stop screaming. Should I accept the request? Should I block this creep? Should I confront him for lying?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I accepted the request, typing furiously:

“Motherfucker asshole, you better not say evil things about my boyfriend, or you’ll regret your existence.”

Within seconds, I got a reply.

“Did he message you after going there?”

Now this guy was getting personal. I knew Christian hadn’t messaged me yet, but that didn’t mean anything shady was going on. He is just busy. Before I could reply, another message came in—"I can send you the pictures, if you ask."

My heart pounding. What should I do?