CHAPTER 8: CHAPTER 8: THE SILENT BATTLEFIELD

The commotion on this side quickly alerted the general manager of The Gilded Banyan.

The general manager came running, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.

"President Fordham, this—"

Aiden Fordham’s gaze was sharp as a blade as he glanced at him.

"My friend is missing."

His tone was flat, but carried an unquestionable authority.

"Clear the floor. Now."

"This..."

The general manager was so terrified his legs cramped up. Clear the floor? How much would that cost? But this was Aiden Fordham in front of him—the kind of man whose stomp could shake the whole business world. How could he dare say no?

All he could do was nod repeatedly, bending low. "Yes, yes, President Fordham, I’ll handle it right away!"

The manager wiped his sweat, bracing himself to push open the door to Stella’s private box.

Inside, the atmosphere was strained. Andy Lockwood was holding a wine glass, his gaze playful as he watched Damian Hawthorne across the table, as if they were discussing something.

"Honored guests, my deepest apologies for the interruption."

The manager forced a smile of apology, but his voice trembled slightly.

"There’s been an unexpected situation in the club and we need to clear the floor for now. Please, everyone..."

He paused, then added, "Tonight’s meal is on the house. I’m terribly sorry."

Everyone was eating happily. Who could stand being suddenly kicked out?

The people with Andy Lockwood already looked annoyed.

Damian Hawthorne’s handsome face, previously smiling, immediately darkened at the words "clear the floor," turning so black it looked like ink might drip off him.

Aiden Fordham?

What the hell is he planning?!

Aside from him, who else had the power to make a club clear the floor?

Sitting in the main seat, Andy Lockwood’s face grew even darker, terrifyingly so. He set down his wine glass with deliberate slowness, the base clinking lightly against the tabletop.

"Heh."

He sneered. He could already guess who was behind this, but the move was crude and petty.

"Magnate Fordham really has some nerve."

He turned his head and instructed Carlos Fenton beside him.

"Go. Buy this club."

His tone was casual, yet radiated undeniable pressure.

"From now on, it’ll be The Lockwood Group’s staff cafeteria."

This was naked provocation—a declaration of war across the air at Aiden Fordham.

The manager was terrified out of his wits, quickly speaking up, his voice cracking.

"President Lockwood, please don’t be upset! That is...just now, President Fordham... President Fordham has already merged the restaurant into the Fordham Group..."

The air froze. Andy Lockwood’s eyes turned instantly icy and sharp.

Damian Hawthorne furrowed his brows, rising to his feet.

"President Lockwood, sorry, I need to go see what’s going on."

He needed to know exactly what Aiden Fordham was up to.

Before leaving, he made sure to instruct the manager.

"No one is to disturb this table’s guests."

The manager agreed at once! The private box door closed.

Stella picked up her water glass, her fingertips faintly pale.

Aiden Fordham... what the hell is he doing?

Clearing the floor? Buying the restaurant?

Just out to eat and still have to deal with that man’s madness?

An inexplicable pressure weighed on her chest.

Meanwhile, Aiden Fordham nearly kicked open the door to an employee break room.

The scene inside made his pupils contract sharply, his heart stopping for half a beat.

Corinne Kensington was being pinned against the wall by a stranger in a waiter’s uniform gripping her throat. The man held a fruit knife in his hand, his eyes wild and twisted, muttering under his breath.

A stalker fan!

Aiden Fordham’s face instantly went sheet white, but in the next second, a tidal wave of fury consumed him.

He lunged at the man like a blur.

He didn’t give the guy a moment’s chance—he lashed out with a kick!

"Bang!"

The man flew out like a rag doll, slammed into the wall, then crumpled to the floor, curling up in agony.

The fruit knife clattered loudly to the ground.

Corinne Kensington’s body went limp and she collapsed to the floor. The moment she saw Aiden Fordham, tears streamed down in torrents.

She scrambled into his arms, clutching him desperately, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Boohoo... Aiden... I was so scared... I thought..."

She was trembling all over with fright, face pale as paper, without even enough strength to stand.

Aiden Fordham held her tightly, feeling every shudder of her body, his heart twisting in pain.

He gently patted her back, his voice softer and more comforting than ever before.

"It’s okay, Corinne, it’s over. I’m here now."

If he’d arrived a moment later... the consequences would be unimaginable!

A savage fury flashed through Aiden Fordham’s eyes.

He carefully scooped the terrified Corinne Kensington up into his arms.

She curled up against him like a frightened kitten, face pressed to his chest, seeking safety.

Aiden Fordham carried her out of the break room.

Just as he reached the corridor, he crossed paths with Damian Hawthorne, who had rushed over.

Damian Hawthorne was startled at the sight of Corinne Kensington in such a state.

"What happened?"

Aiden Fordham didn’t slow his pace, his voice as cold as ice.

"Corinne was taken hostage, badly frightened."

His gaze swept over the beautiful scenery of the garden, filled with unmasked disgust and lethal decisiveness.

"That bastard—make sure he disappears from Meritopia for good. And this club? No reason for it to exist anymore!"

With that, he strode away, not sparing a backward glance, still cradling Corinne Kensington in his arms.

Stella stood in the doorway of her private box, just in time to witness the scene.

She watched Aiden Fordham guard Corinne Kensington like a priceless treasure, careful and hurried, his profile taut with a fierce protectiveness that brooked no intrusion.

She couldn’t say how she felt inside.

A little sour, a little bitter.

But more than anything, a helpless sense of powerlessness.

He pampers that woman—truly pampers her to the bone!

After leaving the club, Andy Lockwood brought Stella to a brand-new skyscraper.

Stella craned her neck until it nearly snapped.

"Forty-eight floors..." she muttered. "That’s ridiculously tall."

Andy Lockwood gave a light chuckle, gesturing for her to go in.

"Let’s take a look."

The elevator went straight to the top floor. When the doors opened, an expansive space greeted them, with a stunning panoramic view—half of Meritopia was at their feet.

The decor was minimalist and modern, but radiated understated luxury everywhere.

"Senior, isn’t this a bit much?" Stella couldn’t help but click her tongue. "You bought it outright? I thought you were just temporarily renting a place for the summit and would be gone when it’s over—this is over the top!"

Andy Lockwood walked to the vast floor-to-ceiling window, hands casually in his pockets, standing tall and straight.

His jaw hardened, gaze fixed far away—out where another no-less-imposing tower stood, its roof boldly emblazoned with the words "Fordham Group."

His lips curled with a cold, sharp smirk.

"Rent?" His voice was indifferent, faintly mocking. "That’s no fun at all."

Stella watched his profile, the sunlight tracing his flawless features. The sheer aura of command and calculation in him made her heart skip a beat.

"How much did you spend?" she teased. "Is The Lockwood Group here to stay in Meritopia?"

Andy Lockwood turned, his dark eyes deep and locked on hers.

"Now that the battlefield has shifted here," he said quietly, his words precise, "naturally I have to stock up provisions and sharpen the weapons."

He paused, gaze cutting once more to the Fordham Tower—like a hunter locking onto prey.

"Only then can I take down my enemy with a single decisive strike."

Stella looked at his serious expression and laughed it off. "You just got to Meritopia. What enemies could you possibly have already?"

His eyes on her were fervent. "Oh, I’ve got one. And he’s strong—very strong."

Stella laughed again, saying nothing more, her gaze unconsciously drifting across to the highest tower in Meritopia—branded with the Fordham Group name.

Fordham Group, CEO’s Office.

Aiden Fordham stood by the window, a cigarette between his fingers—but unlit.

His brows were tightly knit, pondering the same question.

Andy Lockwood.

This business tycoon from F-Country, head of The Lockwood Group—why choose Meritopia, of all places, to host some global medical summit?

And so flamboyantly announce God N’s return.

What is he really after?

The knock came on the door—Damian Hawthorne entered.

"Still thinking about Andy Lockwood?"

Aiden Fordham grunted and put the cigarette on the desk.

"The Lockwood Group’s main business isn’t even here. His coming to Meritopia is too deliberate."

Damian joined him, gazing out the window as well.

"It reminds me—" Damian mused, "he once let slip that he had some old friend in Meritopia."

Aiden Fordham suddenly turned to look at him.

"Old friend?" His heartbeat quickened. "What kind of old friend? Does it have to do with God N?"

Damian’s expression also grew grave. "Hard to say. But the timing is too suspicious. God N vanishes for years, and then, the moment Andy Lockwood arrives in Meritopia and publicly announces the summit, news breaks of God N’s return..."

A ridiculous yet highly plausible thought struck Aiden Fordham instantly.

His pupils contracted slightly.

Could it be...

God N is in Meritopia?!

The idea sent a surge of shock through his heart!