Chapter 3

Stella POV

"Break up?"

Leo laughed coldly, as if he'd heard the biggest joke.

His gaze fell on my right arm, encased in a cast. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly masked by irritation.

"Stella, can't you be more sensible? Summer just fell asleep, and I rushed back overnight to calm you down, and this is your attitude? You're going to break up with me over a marriage that's only in name?"

He took a step forward, trying to grab my hand.

"Stop this drama, put your luggage back. What happened to your hand? I'll have Professor Miller take a good look at it tomorrow."

I turned sideways, avoiding his touch.

"No need. Professor Miller is very busy, and my hand isn't Mr. Thorne's concern."

I dragged my suitcase towards the door, but Leo blocked my way, his tall frame pressing against the doorframe.

"If you dare to step out of this door today, you can forget about participating in any Redline team races for the rest of the year!"

I merely glanced at him indifferently.

"Suit yourself."

Leo was stunned.

As we stood at an impasse, a crisp sound of glass shattering suddenly came from the bedroom.

Leo's face changed dramatically. He shoved me aside and rushed into the guest room.

He pushed me, making me stumble, and my right arm hit the wall. The excruciating pain almost made me pass out.

In the guest room, Summer stood barefoot among shattered glass, a small cut on her ankle.

And what lay broken on the floor was my most treasured custom racing helmet. The gift Leo gave me when I won my first national championship.

"Leo, I'm so sorry. I was thirsty and wanted to get some water, and I accidentally knocked over Stella's helmet..."

Summer' eyes were red-rimmed, tears falling like broken beads, like a frightened deer.

Leo picked her up tenderly, carrying her sideways and gently placing her on the bed. Then he turned and glared at me in the doorway, furious.

"What were you doing leaving your helmet here? You know Summer isn't well; what if it scared her and triggered a heart attack?!"

Looking at the shattered helmet on the floor, it was like looking at seven years of my youth, broken into pieces.

That was my private storage cabinet; Summer had rummaged through my things without permission.

But I was too tired to explain.

"It's just a broken helmet. If it's broken, it's broken."

"Leo, anything you gave me, I find it disgusting."

Leo's pupils constricted sharply.

He stood up abruptly, took a few steps towards me, and gritted his teeth.

"Stella, don't push your luck! Summer didn't mean it. Do you have to be so harsh and petty?"

Summer weakly pulled at Leo's sleeve from the bed.

"Leo, don't blame Stella. It's all my fault. Stella, I know you hate me for taking Leo away, but I really don't have long to live. Can't you even spare me this little bit of time?"

She cried, then looked at the Dakar championship trophy at my feet.

"Leo, that trophy is so beautiful. Seeing it, I feel like I have the courage to overcome my illness..."

Leo followed her gaze and walked towards me without hesitation.

"Stella, give Summer the trophy. She needs some emotional support."

I protected the trophy, looking at him in disbelief.

"Leo, are you crazy? This is the championship trophy I risked my life for!"

"It's just to borrow for a few days. Do you have to be so petty?"

Leo impatiently reached out to grab it.

"Let go!"

In the struggle, the sharp metal edge of the trophy's base cut deeply into the palm of my left hand.

Blood instantly gushed out, dripping onto the clean floor.

Leo snatched the trophy. Seeing my bleeding hand, his movements paused, and a hint of panic flashed in his eyes.

But Summer let out a timely, painful whimper.

"Leo, my chest feels so tight..."

Leo immediately took the trophy and turned towards Summer, throwing a remark over his shoulder without looking back:

"Go bandage it yourself. Don't get the floor dirty."

I looked at my bloodied hands: my right hand with a comminuted fracture, my left hand with a wound so deep the bone was visible.

I laughed, tears streaming down my face.

I didn't bandage it. Instead, I picked up my suitcase with one hand and, stepping through the spreading blood, walked out of that suffocating house without looking back.

This time, Leo didn't chase after me.