Chapter Eighteen

                                    

                                          
"Drive fast, Diggory!"
                          
Albert is being impatient since the call he got from Mrs. Tunner telling him that Stella was packing her bags and is crying continuously and they don't know how to handle her and were asking him for his directions on this matter.
                          
To which he just begged them to stop her there and not to let her out.
                          
"We are almost there, Sir." Came a curt and short reply from Diggory, who could feel how worried his master is and tried to drive fast. 
                          
Once they reached the mansion, Albert immediately scurry out of the car and went searching for Stella, praying he could handle this situation properly.
                          
He really didn't want to repeat the history. He wants Stella for himself this time, without any contracts and lies.
                          
He watched Mrs. Tunner approaching him, expression of pure disquitness prominent on her feeble face.
                          
"Where is she?" Albert placed his arms around the old lady, halting her in her steps and watched her expectantly. He just wish she is still here, at his home.
                          
"She is upstairs. I...I kind of locked her in her room." Mrs. Tunner told him looking down at the ground, looking guilty for her deed somewhere.
                          
"Oh....Thank God Mrs. Tunner. I owe you for this one." He kissed the old lady on her forehead and ran, taking two steps at a time in the direction of his wife's room.
                          
He could hear sounds of her shouting from where he was, which became more clear when he reached.
                          
"Mrs. Tunner!! I am warning you, please open this god damn door. Open it!! Or I swear I will break it." Followed by sounds of loud banging on the door.
                          
She was still banging on the door when Albert opened it, making Stella to stumble upon him and landing the blow on his face instead.
                          
"God lady! You hit hard...." Albert clutched his nose in his hand, trying to soothe the pain.
                          
Stella immediately came forward to examine the injury and felt sorry for her stupidity, which was converted into hatred when she realized the reason behind her banging on the door.
                          
"You! You ordered the staff to lock me here? How dare you? After all the shit you have done...And why are you even here? I thought you will be spending your night their, with a specific creature in black gown."
                          
"Not that I care...or..." She could feel her voice getting weak and hated it. She doesn't want to sound weak infront of him, once again. She just wants to go away, somewhere far away, away from him.
                          
One minute they were arguing near the door and the next minute Albert had Stella on her bed, pressed beneath him. 
                          
"Why the hell it doesn't matter to you when I spend my night with someone else? Why not....sweetheart." Albert looked at her with nothing but pure love and passion for her which made Stella wriggle under him in uneasiness.
                          
"Don't....call me that." She raised her hands to push him back but he caught them, bringing them above her head, spreading her legs with his thighs, getting a comfortable position of his choice.
                          
"Call you what....sweetheart." He dipped his head low and kissed her mouth, leaving no road for arguement.
                          
As soon as his lips touched, Stella forgot all her anger and the reason behind their quarreling too. She moaned when he bit her bottom lip lightly, asking for entrance and tighten her hold on the hands which were entwined around hers. She opened her mouth, welcoming the collision of their tongues and showed him how much love she has for him, all through this kiss.
                          
This man frustrates her, he drives her insane. He makes false promises , he can't keep. He is arrogant, rules the world around. But this all didn't matter when she loved him.
                          
That small village girl, for whom he was the world. The world which came crumbling down because of his player ways. If it was not for Nathan, she wouldn't have known what kind of player he was.
                          
Saying he loves her and still dating girls around in his college. How heartbroken she was.
                          
She didn't even talked to anyone for a month. And completely refused to meet Albert when he came back after completing his course.
                          
She didn't want to face him that time and get weak. One glance at him and she knew she will let her guards down. Believe whatever he has to say and forgive him for anything. He had that kind of effect on her.
                          
It was Nathan who made her strong. Told her to face him and tell him she wants nothing to do with him. So she did. She told him she doesn't want him in her life and whatever they had meant nothing to her. And the blow to all those things, the thing which made this man crumble to beg to take him back, was her lie about her and Nathan's fake relationship.
                          
She remembers how heart broken he acted when she told that she loves Nathan. Told him that the distance between them was too much and the time spent apart from him has made her close to her best friend.
                          
But still he kept on begging her, but she was adamant not to let him fool her again with his act.
                          
But now, when all her days are spend under his roof. Her strong willed heart was getting weak.
                          
Everytime she watched him playing with Oliver, his calling his staff to know about her wellness, to check on Oliver and her on night, which he thought she didn't notice but she did.
                          
All these things have started to grow on her. Have made her heart to feel those things again which she felt for this amzing man.
                          
"Sweetheart, we need to talk.
                          
Quote: I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
-Margaret Mitchell
                          
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