After leaving the villa, I rented a cheap apartment in an old, run-down neighborhood. It wasn't much to look at, but it was affordable.
With Evan still in the hospital waiting for surgery, I needed to save up 500,000.
That very night, I found a part-time job as a lounge singer at a high-end bar.
The place was a blur of neon lights and clinking glasses. I stood on the small stage and sang. The pay was good, and wealthy patrons sometimes left generous tips.
A lot of people might have looked down on a job like this, thinking it was shady or beneath them. But I didn't care. I needed the money.
After marrying Jackson, I'd stayed home every day, like a typical housewife, letting all my hobbies and dreams wither away. He once scoffed, "Stella Sterling, what else can you do besides sing and d
