CHAPTER 22: CHAPTER 22: BEG ME TO LET YOU STAY FOR THREE MORE YEARS

Aiden Fordham’s tall figure barged right in.

The apartment’s design was simple, the furniture minimalistic, yet the purple accents added a touch of softness, even a hint of warmth.

Completely different from his cold and icy villa.

A faint and elusive fragrance lingered in the air.

This scent...he squinted his eyes, suddenly remembering how a special aroma in the cabin last night had made him lose consciousness instantly.

He scanned the room, finally fixing his gaze on Stella Grant, who was in pajamas, watching him warily.

"Won’t you offer me a cup of coffee?" His voice was slightly hoarse from just waking up, with an undeniable assertiveness.

Stella Grant crossed her arms, her expression indifferent, "No!"

Aiden Fordham looked at her invulnerable demeanor, and the little bit of annoyance in his chest was oddly replaced by a peculiar amusement.

He approached step by step, his tall stature exuding a strong sense of oppression.

"Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?"

Stella Grant was forced to retreat, her back pressed against the cold wall.

"Explain what?"

"For instance, what did you use to knock me out last night?"

He was closing in, his eyes sharp as if to see through her.

She turned her head away, her tone even colder, "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Stella Grant."

Aiden Fordham softly called her name, lifting her chin with his fingers to force her to look at him.

"I’ve found I can’t see through you at all; you surprise me too often. Aren’t you going to explain?"

Stella Grant stared back stubbornly, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"President Fordham, three years have passed, whether you see through me or not, we’re over, aren’t we?"

Her attitude was chilling enough to freeze someone.

"If you still wish to stay by my side, I might consider extending the time a bit."

Aiden Fordham blurted out without thinking, startled by his own thought.

Stella Grant suddenly laughed, her eyes provocatively, "President Fordham, have you fallen for me?"

He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

His gaze drifted to the ambiguous red mark on her fair neck.

It was left when he lost control last night.

Aiden Fordham’s eyes darkened instantly, brimming with some primal desire, as he bent his head to whisper in her ear, "Beg me! Let me keep you for another three years!"

Beg him!

Stella Grant shoved him away abruptly as if touched by something dirty, eyes full of resistance and disgust.

"It’s late, President Fordham, I’m going to sleep now, please leave!"

She made no effort to conceal her eviction order.

Aiden Fordham was pushed back a step, feeling infuriated, "Stella Grant, who exactly are you? Why did you approach me?"

This question, if he’d asked before, she would have told him.

But now, she didn’t want to say anymore!

She curled her lips into a mocking smile, "Probably...the kind of person you hate the most."

"President Fordham, I don’t know why you’ve come in the middle of the night, just sign the divorce papers and go our separate ways!"

She paused, deliberately sizing him up and down, a thorn in her voice, "At this point, what’s the point in questioning who I am?"

He gazed deeply at her, closing in, his warm breath spraying on her face.

"Don’t you have any regret?"

His fingers restlessly lifted a strand of her hair, anxious for an answer.

Stella Grant’s eyes became extraordinarily resolute, as if quenched in ice.

"Aiden Fordham, the game is over."

Game! Over! The! Game! Is! Over!

These five words hit his heart like a heavy hammer, leaving him breathless, she dared to treat their marriage as a game?

He stared at her indifferent face, suddenly feeling an impulse to strangle her neck and ask on what grounds she was so decisive.

But simultaneously, a more intense desire surged, wanting to crush her into his arms, torment her thoroughly, and make her cry for mercy!

The two extreme emotions tore at him, leaving him somewhat at a loss.

With the last shred of dignity, he said forcefully, "Even if you leave me, I won’t let you marry Andy Lockwood. No one’s allowed to touch a woman I’ve slept with!"

In his mind, he had already assumed it was because of Andy Lockwood that she was so determined against him.

Otherwise, who would willingly give up the title of the richest man’s wife?

Stella Grant: "..."

This guy’s brain must be malfunctioning if he thinks he can interfere in her post-divorce life.

When did he become so obsessed?

No, shouldn’t his domineering nature be directed at Corinne Kensington?

She spoke calmly, "President Fordham, don’t worry, I won’t be with anyone. I guarantee I’ll die lonely, will that satisfy you?"

Aiden Fordham: "...."

No!

How had this woman transformed from being obedient to being so sharp-tongued?

How did she muster such confidence...no, she seemed very confident.

She could play the piano, spoke foreign languages, was even the "Queen of Nine Balls"...

She radiated brilliance anytime and anywhere, like a magnet pulling at his heartstrings.

Making him feel this damn possessiveness.

Not wanting to hand her over to anyone else!

A troubling irritation climbed into his heart; this woman gave him quite a headache.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded from another room, bathing the whole room in a strange red light.

What is this?

Stella Grant rushed into the room, her eyes fixed intently on the computer screen.

[Warning! Multiple unknown IP intrusions detected!]

[Firewall layer one has been breached!]

[Data loss in progress...]

The bright red warning boxes frantically flickered, twitching like a heartbeat.

Her data packet was under siege.

Without time to think, her fingers reflexively tapped on the keyboard.

Lines of code flashed across the screen as she tried to reinforce the firewall, seal the loopholes.

But there were too many people on the other side.

One gap was just patched when three new attack points emerged.

The IP addresses on the screen were flooding in, densely populated.

"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath, a sheen of sweat forming on her forehead.

Fingers danced on the keyboard, moving so fast they almost left afterimages.

Someone trying to breach her database at this moment meant the Chris Family was in a greater hurry than she had imagined.

Aiden Fordham watched her computer, a long string of data flashing by.

She was continuously strengthening the firewall, inputting the sequence 02090630 along with several letters, clearly a key.

Her speed was impressive, taking him by surprise, but there were at least 30 experts battling her one after another.

She was outnumbered, struggling to cope.

[Firewall layer two has been breached!]

[Attempt to access core data permissions detected!]

It’s over.

Her heart sank.

The speed was too fast, impossible to defend against.

If this continued, her system would eventually be breached.

Just then, two shared network requests popped up on the screen!

It was from Andy Lockwood and Carlos Fenton!

Stella Grant was startled; she knew they were both there to help her.

But if she accepted, and they spoke, her identity as God N would be immediately exposed.

In front of Aiden Fordham, she’d be an open book, but at this moment, she really couldn’t fight against a group of top-tier hackers alone.

As she hesitated whether to accept, a well-defined hand rested on her shoulder.

"Let me!"

Aiden Fordham’s voice was deep, filled with indisputable calmness.