CHAPTER 12: CHAPTER 12: PRESIDENT FORDHAM’S CONFLICTED LOVE AND HATE

Downstairs.

The man in the flower shirt, who was quite spirited earlier, was now completely dumbfounded.

He clasped his hands together for Stella Grant, with a smile tinged with helplessness, yet candid, "Beauty, I lost! I concede wholeheartedly!"

"The skill, absolutely incredible! I’m truly astonished today!"

He turned to the crowd, waving his hand grandly, "A bet is a bet! Today, I will perform a show for everyone’s entertainment! Tonight, all expenses are on me! Everyone drink up!"

"Yes!!!"

The crowd erupted once again with whistles and cheers.

The man began a spectacular performance on stage, accompanied by dynamic music, drawing laughter from the audience, yet his eyes remained fixed on Stella Grant’s direction.

The male fans, who were amazed by Stella Grant’s ball skills, immediately surrounded her.

"Beauty! Can you sign an autograph?"

"Goddess! Can I have your WeChat?"

"Miss, are you accepting disciples?"

The crowd surrounded Vivi Sterling and Stella Grant so tightly that there was no escape.

Vivi Sterling could still handle a few words, but Stella Grant was a bit at a loss by the sudden enthusiasm, with a slight furrow in her brow, instinctively wanting to retreat.

The scene became a bit chaotic, with many people raising their phones, intent on capturing the beauty’s image to upload online, which would definitely explode in popularity.

And then, a coat with a faint, cold scent and a hint of tobacco suddenly descended from the sky, completely wrapping Stella Grant.

Her vision was instantly covered by dark fabric, inducing a sense of fear.

The next second, a large, slightly cold hand with distinct knuckles gripped her wrist with one hand and embraced her shoulder with the other, pulling her swiftly out of the crowded throng with undeniable strength.

Stella Grant stumbled a bit, half embraced and protected, as they quickly moved outside.

Almost simultaneously, another wave of chaos inside the club was being forcibly terminated.

"Everyone, move!" A deep voice, filled with obvious anger, pierced through.

Abraham Grant parted the crowd, striding swiftly to Vivi Sterling, grabbing her arm forcefully.

"Come with me!"

His voice suppressed with fury, not giving Vivi Sterling any chance to respond, firmly taking her away from the surrounding crowd, heading in another direction.

The noise around seemed to fade into the distance.

Until they stepped out the club doors, breathing in the cool air outside, that coat was gently lifted off.

Stella Grant looked up, meeting a pair of deep, cold eyes.

It was Aiden Fordham.

He stood tall with an unpleasant expression, his gaze filled with scrutiny and faint, barely discernible anger.

He released her wrist, his thin lips parting slightly, his voice laced with habitual sarcasm.

"Not bad, Stella Grant. Your skills have improved; you even know how to have fun in such places now?"

His voice carried suppressed anger, his sharp gaze sweeping over her slightly bold dress, "Look at what you’re wearing, where is the bearing of the Fordham Family Eldest Young Madam?"

He stepped forward, oppressive in presence, continuing to speak, "If some clueless reporter had taken pictures earlier, do you think Grandfather would come after you or me?"

Stella Grant raised her eyes, her gaze cold and clear as water, without a trace of fear, but carrying an exhausted and resolute look of having seen through everything.

Her red lips parted slightly, her words piercing like icy spikes, "Aiden Fordham, tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, meet me at the Civil Affairs Bureau."

The air instantly froze.

The fury in Aiden Fordham’s eyes finally exploded like an ignited powder keg, "What did you say? Now, I can’t even say a few words to you, can I?"

Stella Grant’s voice was ice cold, "If you’re busy, you can have someone send the divorce agreement to me."

Aiden Fordham laughed in extreme anger, his tone rich with sarcasm.

"Who was it that persistently wanted to marry into the Fordham Family? Stella Grant, isn’t all of this not your own choice?"

He found her utterly unreasonable; is it not her own web she spun?

"Yes, you’re right."

Stella Grant admitted calmly, her face expressionless.

"It was I who was blind at the time, choosing the wrong path. So, I am now trying to correct this mistake."

Her voice was unusually calm, but carried a resolute strength.

After speaking, she no longer looked at him, turning to leave this suffocating place.

"Stella Grant!"

Aiden Fordham reacted quickly, gripping her wrist tightly, the force making her feel pain.

His gaze was oppressive, "Leave me, and you will have nothing. Have you thought it through?"

At his words, Stella Grant felt like she had heard the world’s biggest joke, she laughed lightly, seemingly self-mockingly, "Three years of marriage, when have I ever had anything?"

A sense of suffocation arose, making her eyes suddenly redden.

Aiden Fordham fell silent because they indeed did not live together, and he had been so sparing in his concern for her.

A drunken man suddenly stumbled over, humming a song incoherently, his steps unsteady, seemingly about to bump into Stella Grant.

Aiden Fordham instinctively and swiftly pulled Stella Grant into his embrace!

The intense male scent enveloped her instantly, with the familiar chill of his cologne.

Stella Grant’s body stiffened, unable to struggle before she heard the voice above her head, "I’ll send you home."

"No need."

Stella Grant pushed him away forcefully, her gaze icy, her tone detached.

At this moment, blinding car lights cut through the night, and a sleek, luxurious black Maybach quietly stopped by the roadside.

The car door opened, a tall, upright man stepped out.

The man wore a high-end black suit, his face cold and stern, radiating a powerful aura that kept strangers at bay.

He walked straight toward them.

Aiden Fordham’s pupils shrank imperceptibly at the sight of the newcomer, his anger on his face receding slightly, replaced by a polite and distant expression.

"President Lockwood? What a coincidence."

Andy Lockwood merely glanced at him briefly before his gaze fell on Stella Grant, seeming to soften slightly.

He spoke to Stella Grant, his voice deep and magnetic, "I’ll send you home."

Stella Grant almost didn’t hesitate, nodding lightly.

Then as if remembering something, she added, "Vivi is still inside."

"Don’t worry."

Andy Lockwood replied succinctly.

"I’ll have someone find her."

Stella Grant was completely relieved, nodded again, and didn’t spare another glance at Aiden Fordham, heading straight for the Maybach.

Aiden Fordham stood where he was, his face ashen, his fists quietly clenched at his sides.

Watching Stella Grant’s back as she walked away without reluctance towards another man, a nameless fire burned fiercely in his chest.

But reason told him that now was not the time for a complete breakdown with Andy Lockwood.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in his heart, forcing a perfect, though utterly devoid of warmth, smile on his face.

"In that case, I’ll trouble President Lockwood to send my wife home."

He emphasized "my wife," as if asserting ownership.

Andy Lockwood exuded coldness all over as he turned to instruct the bodyguard to go inside to find someone.

Shortly thereafter, the bodyguard brought Vivi Sterling out of the club, into the Maybach, and drove away.

Aiden Fordham coldly made a phone call, "Go to Madame’s house immediately, keep an eye on her entering the house, and report back if that Andy Lockwood stays overnight."

"Yes!" At this moment, Keegan Lindsey was standing shirtless, wearing only white briefs, about to go to bed. He replied solemnly, then briskly rushed to get dressed.