CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER 42: FOUND HER FILES

"Stella Grant! Can you confirm if you and President Fordham are in an agreement marriage?"

"Did you deliberately hire trolls against Corinne Kensington?"

"Miss Grant, do you and President Fordham have a genuine marital relationship?"

"Miss Grant, please answer!"

The questions grew increasingly pointed, with microphones almost pressing into her face.

The crowd gathered, spreading like a dark tide.

"Sorry, you’d better direct these questions to President Fordham."

She coldly replied, then pushed through the crowd with both hands, preparing to break free from the encirclement.

Suddenly, a few emotionally charged people dashed out from the crowd’s perimeter, dressed like Corinne Kensington’s fans.

"It’s that witch! She’s harmed our Eliana again and again!"

"She’s the shameless mistress who has occupied Eliana’s place as the president’s wife for three years."

The leading girl raised her tea cup, her eyes venomous: "Throw it at her! Teach her a lesson!"

As soon as her words fell, a cup of milk tea and a bottle of mineral water hurtled towards Stella Grant’s head.

"Ah!" Stella Grant screamed, instinctively trying to block.

But her shoulder was still hit by an icy Americano, cold coffee seeping down her white shirt, leaving her in disarray.

The sticky liquid dampened her hair, filling the air with a sweet, coffee-laden scent.

The reporters were more excited, their shutters flying.

Just as the scene was spiraling out of control—

"Beep—Beep—"

A piercing horn sliced through the chaos forcefully.

A sleek black Maybach rudely pushed aside the crowd, halting in front of them.

Following that, several bodyguards dressed in black descended from another car of the same color, swiftly creating a barrier between the reporters and frenzied fans.

The car door opened.

Andy Lockwood emerged against the light, striding down quickly.

His tall figure carried an overwhelming presence, heading straight for Stella Grant, imprisoned in the middle, and tightly wrapped her in his arms.

His coat draped over her, shielding her from all prying eyes and the cold liquid.

"Move!" Andy Lockwood’s voice was icy, carrying an indisputable threat.

The bodyguards skillfully protected them, forcing a path clear.

With Stella Grant half-huddled in his embrace, Andy Lockwood nearly enveloped her entirely under his protection, quickly heading toward the Maybach.

The relentless reporters still chased them, shouting, the flashlights incessantly flickering.

The car door slammed shut, sealing out the outside clamor.

Inside the car, the light was gentle.

Andy Lockwood immediately retrieved a clean handkerchief from the storage compartment, delicately dabbing at the juice on Stella Grant’s forehead and hair.

Sticky liquid, disheveled hair, and her pale complexion.

He had never seen her like this before.

His heart clenched as if gripped tightly by a hand, with intense pain.

He regretted it.

He should never have let her return to the country alone; he should have kept her by his side.

This so-called marriage had tormented her into such a wretched state!

She was clearly the angel who had saved countless cancer patients, calm, decisive, widely respected.

And now she was here, attacked with vulgar words and trash by a group of ignorant people.

Anger and heartache surged beneath Andy Lockwood’s eyes, yet his movements became increasingly gentle.

Stella Grant looked at his tense jawline, instead tugging at her lips into a faint smile.

"Senior, don’t worry."

She said, and then smiled brilliantly, her eyes bright.

Her stubbornness evoked heartache!

"I’m fine, everything is over!"

Her voice was somewhat hoarse, yet carried a peculiar consoling power, dissolving the congestion in Andy Lockwood’s chest.

Stella Grant stayed in The Lockwood Group’s laboratory for three whole days.

No one knew what she was doing.

She was busy fiddling with the pale purple plant, extracting its elements repeatedly.

Recording data over and over again.

Only Andy Lockwood knew that his God N was back!

From now on... immune to all toxins!

...

In just a few days, the Kensington Family completely turned the tables.

After all, why do they say, it’s good to rest in the shade of a big tree!

The Fordham Group threw a small project to the Kensington Family, resolving Brendan Kensington’s urgent crisis while earning two billion.

Aiden Fordham’s obvious favor, love for the house and its crow, anyone not blind could see.

Brendan Kensington is very likely to become Magnate Fordham’s future father-in-law, so the partners who previously terminated contracts with the Kensington Group rushed to apologize, some even making concessions just to maintain this partnership.

Brendan Kensington suddenly experienced the glory of being on top.

Indeed, raising a daughter pays off, without realizing it, it’s the rise to prominence!

The competition for the lead role between Corinne Kensington and Sasha Marshall officially entered a feverish stage.

Fans on both sides were in a relentless uproar, tearing each other apart.

Corinne Kensington didn’t care about the lead role matter now; countless famous directors came to her with offers.

Why should she make it easy for Sasha Marshall?

So, when it’s time to fight, fight it out!

When Corinne Kensington was discharged from the hospital, the overwhelming flowers sent by fans instantly restored her previous splendor.

As she got into the car, she smiled at her agent, Una Lindsey.

"Una, it’s our turn to strike back now!"

"It must be brilliant!" came a sinister voice.

...

Days passed, and the Fordham Group’s stock price finally returned to normal.

In the Fordham Group’s top-floor office.

Outside the enormous floor-to-ceiling window was the bustling urban scenery.

Aiden Fordham stood in front of the window, long fingers pinching a cigarette.

His gaze fell at a distant spot, at the balcony he once knew.

With indifferent eyes.

In the end, he chose Corinne Kensington.

Or rather, he opted for the "true" advantageous solution for the Fordham Group that best matched his current mindset.

What was she doing at the moment?

Upon seeing such a statement, would she be happy, or sad?

Suddenly, an irritating feeling surged from within; why would he ponder her emotions?

Her everything, what does it matter to him?

But when he saw the video, Stella Grant surrounded by reporters and crowds, fielding sharp questions thrown at her, then the chaotic scene of drinks and water bottles hurled her way.

She wore a simple white shirt, now stained with dark blotches, her hair disheveled and sticking to her cheeks, making her appear somewhat vulnerable.

Until she was protected by the man who rushed out, taken into his embrace, onboard the car.

His mood was disrupted once again!

He approached the desk, pressed the intercom.

"Keegan Lindsey."

Soon, the meticulously dressed assistant Keegan Lindsey entered the room.

"President Fordham."

Aiden Fordham turned around, walked behind his desk, and sat down.

"Release a press statement. If anyone dares to smear or harm the Fordham Group’s... former president’s wife, the Fordham Group will not sit idly by."

"Understood." Keegan Lindsey was startled, was he protecting the lady?

"Get the legal department to draft a supplementary agreement."

His fingers gently tapped the desk. "Give Stella Grant an additional ten billion, several more houses on top of the initial offer."

Keegan Lindsey paused slightly but quickly returned to usual.

"Okay, President Fordham."

Perhaps, this is the final compensation he can offer her!

This money would be enough for her to live a carefree life for half her lifetime.

"The transfer of these procedures may take some time."

Keegan Lindsey paused, continued, "Everything must be signed off before proceeding with the divorce certificate."

Aiden Fordham’s lips twitched, "Then let’s get everything done, and then go to... the civil affairs bureau."

"Alright." Keegan Lindsey felt a vague sense of loss.

It seems the boss has given up, not intending to win her back.

He swore to eat well and exercise regularly henceforth, never allowing any reason for a woman to drop him.

"Knock, knock, knock!"

The secretary led in a breezy man, sporting shoulder-length hair, wearing a white trench coat, suave and dashing, but exuded a mature yet unruly demeanor.

"Mr. Fordham, you should thank me properly this time; I dug up a big secret for you."

Quentin Lockwood slapped the folder onto Aiden Fordham’s chest, then said,

"You’ve really lucked out this time, who’d have thought your ex-sister-in-law is so incredible!"

"Miss, could I trouble you for a cup of coffee, three sugars?" He smiled charmingly at the secretary, his charisma captivating anyone around.

"Certainly, just a moment!"

Aiden Fordham suspiciously opened the file, its contents instantly shocking his pupils.