Chapter 189 She Has Changed

Chapter 189 She Has Changed

In that split second, Mason's razor-sharp reflexes kicked in as he jerked his body sideways.

Though the bullet missed his heart, it still grazed his right shoulder viciously. The sharp projectile instantly tore through fabric and flesh, hot blood immediately soaking his black shirt.

Searing pain exploded in his shoulder. Mason's right hand on the steering wheel trembled uncontrollably. The car lurched out of control, swerving hard toward the roadside, tires screeching against pavement.

The sudden jolt made the unprepared Stella scream, her heart seizing, eyes wide with terror.

Mason's lips pressed into a thin line. Cold sweat beaded on his temples. He gritted his teeth against the tearing pain in his shoulder, forcing his arm to straighten the wheel.

Eyes locked on the road ahead, he floored the accelerator. The luxury car shot forward like an arrow, breaking through the hail of bullets, racing toward the estate at breakneck speed.

Bullets continued their relentless pursuit. The car body was riddled with holes, yet he shielded Stella in the passenger seat throughout, not letting her suffer even a scratch.

The short fifteen-minute drive felt like an eternity.

Finally reaching the heavily guarded estate, the car had barely stopped when Mason killed the engine.

Blood continued seeping from his shoulder wound. His entire right arm was soaked crimson, blood dripping steadily from his fingertips onto the ground, forming alarming pools of red.

But he ignored his injury, using his good arm to lift the shell-shocked Stella from the car, carrying her upstairs and gently placing her on the soft bedroom bed.

Stella sat frozen, staring at his bleeding shoulder, body rigid, unable to speak, the terror of the gunfight still gripping her heart.

Mason pressed the call button, summoning his personal medic.

The medic peeled away his blood-soaked sleeve, revealing a wound deep to the bone—a horrifying sight.

As the medic prepared bandaging supplies, he asked solemnly, "Mr. Jones, Richard and his men are still prowling the district. Should we eliminate them all?"

Mason's eyes turned ice-cold, murderous intent churning. Without hesitation, he said coldly, "Kill them."

The instant those words fell, the silent, dazed Stella suddenly snapped back. She grabbed Mason's uninjured left hand, tears bursting forth as she trembled violently, sobbing uncontrollably: "No! Please don't kill him!"

"I'll stay with you. I won't run away again, won't contact him anymore. Just let him go, please?"

"My child can't be without a father. Please spare him..."

She cried heartbreakingly, eyes full of pleading and helplessness.

Mason looked down at her tear-streaked face, at her red, desperate eyes. The killing intent churning inside him gradually dissipated.

After a long moment, he spoke lightly, relenting: "No need to kill him. Just drive him out of the country permanently."

The medic acknowledged and withdrew. The room fell quiet again.

Stella stared blankly at the man before her, finally understanding completely.

Mason's power was absolute. Here, he ruled everything. All her attempts to escape, to call for help—utterly futile.

Resistance was meaningless. Fighting back would only bring more terrible consequences.

After a moment of silence, she took the bandaging supplies and gauze the medic had left, moving to sit beside him. Her fingers trembled slightly as she carefully cleaned his wound and wrapped it.

When her fingertips touched the vicious injury, Mason's body stiffened. His dark eyes filled with wariness, fixed on her intensely. His voice was low and hoarse: "Don't think about running again."

Stella's hands paused. She slowly lifted her weary eyes, which held nothing but deathly resignation—no unwillingness, no resistance, only complete acceptance of her fate.

She asked softly, her tone flat yet bitter: "Could I even escape if I tried?"

...

In the days that followed, Stella indeed stopped trying to flee.

Mason gradually relaxed his surveillance over her.

To make her comfortable, he specially brought in designers from Novaria.

Stella redesigned everything inside and out according to her own vision.

In the end, the estate was filled with lush trees and seas of flowers, serene as a secluded paradise cut off from the world.

Stella was quite satisfied with her creation. After nearly six months in Astoria, this was the first time she'd shown a genuine smile.

That evening, she personally cooked an entire table of dishes.

Returning from outside, Mason saw the spread and was overjoyed, though he quickly suppressed his smile and asked, "What's this sugar-coated bullet for?"

"Baby, you're not plotting another escape, are you?"

Stella poured him a glass of red wine. "No. Just happy. Wanted to celebrate. Is that okay?"

"Of course." Mason chuckled, pulling Stella into his arms. "You're happy, I'm happy."

This was the first time Stella truly looked at Mason.

Honestly, at first, she'd been terrified, living in constant fear every day.

She was afraid that one wrong word would get her silenced permanently.

But after six months together, Stella discovered Mason treated her extraordinarily well.

He never lost his temper with her. Even when she got angry, he would patiently coax her.

He indulged her unconditionally, doted on her.

Whatever she disliked, he never forced on her.

Except for not letting her go out alone, he could be said to grant her every wish.

Sometimes, when Mason had to return late due to work, she even felt uncomfortable, waiting in the living room until he came home before feeling at ease.

Gradually, Stella realized just how dependent she'd become on Mason.