The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 231

My breath caught in my throat as shock paralyzed me, watching the screams die on her lips as she stared up in shock. The sight of Bruce, his features twisted with a mix of horror and regret, sent a shiver down my spine.

“What have you done?” I managed to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper, my mind reeling from

the suddenness and brutality of the act.

Bruce stood there, aghast at his own actions, his hands shaking as he stared at Stella’s prone form on the ground. Guilt and remorse etched lines of anguish on his face, a stark contrast to the violence he had just committed.

The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with the weight of what had transpired. The silence that

followed was punctuated only by the sound of ragged breaths and the distant wail of sirens.

I was frozen in shock and horror, my mind struggling to process the gruesome scene unfolding before me. It was getting to a point where I couldn’t stomach the violence.

Stella lay on the floor, her cries of pain piercing the silence, blood seeping from the wound that had torn through her.

“Help her, do something!” I pleaded, my voice cracking with urgency as I rested my gaze on Stella’s quivering form. The gash had been just inches from her protruding stomach, and I winced at the damage that could’ve been done to the child growing inside.

Bruce’s ego clashed with the urgency of the situation. His wounded pride seemed to cloud his judgment, his reluctance evident as he stood there, motionless.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bruce retorted sharply, still holding up a façade and trying to mask the panic that flickered in his eyes.

Stella’s cries reverberated through the room as she rolled across the ground and clutched her stomach. With trembling hands, she reached for the knife embedded in her abdomen.

“No, Stella, don’t!” I cried out in horror. “That could make it worse!”

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Regardless of my warnings, she attempted to tear the knife out, and I feared it would worsen the bleeding. Thankfully, she seemed to give up after a few tugs, already winded from the pain.

A sense of helplessness washed over me as Bruce, in a frenzied panic, abruptly shut off the camera and stage lights. The room plunged into darkness, the only sound being Stella’s agonized sobs echoing through the suffocating space.

Desperation clawed at my chest as I looked at Bruce, and I tried to keep my voice steady. “Bruce, please! You have to help her,” I implored, my voice quivering with desperation.

I grasped at straws, trying to evoke any emotional response from him. “She’s pregnant, Bruce. She’s carrying a baby,” I pleaded, hoping that the mention of an innocent life would stir some compassion

within him.

But my

fell on deaf ears, Bruce’s gaze cold and

a moment to realize Stella was moving again.

blood–slick hands as she dialed a number. Her trembling fingers raced across the

thought, Bruce lunged forward, restraining her in a frantic attempt to prevent her from making the

line open, the screen displaying

senses. Timothy’s name flashed on the screen. I concealed my reaction, absorbing the information

casually, masking the urgency in my voice, “you

doctor, but someone needs to come

tightened on Stella, his expression darkening as he contemplated the gravity of the situation. His

threat of

struggled against Bruce’s hold, her cries echoing through the room.

gravity of the moment weighing heavy on

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another witness,” Bruce spat out, his voice laced with

Evie. I can’t have

his words sent a shiver down my spine.

seeping into

to do it, Bruce,” I retorted, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through

this. I

a glimmer of uncertainty betraying the facade of resolve he tried to uphold.

room fell

tense silence, the weight of our predicament looming

to do this,” I urged, learning toward him. “Let someone help Stella.

out together.”

you just shut up! I’m trying to think.”

crack the surface. “You have a soft side somewhere in there,” I lied. “You wouldn’t want to harm a pregnant woman, would you?

tense, a subtle crack in his facade. That seemed to tug at something within him, a trace of empathy trying to surface

even more at a

eyes

Timothy’s name written on the screen in bold. The timer for the call had reached five minutes, and Timothy had been.

that Timothy had grasped the situation and that my subtle hints would guide him somewhere. Even with him disconnected, my

aside, his icy gaze fixed upon Stella. My

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