CHAPTER 96: CHAPTER 96: YOU’RE NOT WORTHY

At noon, Stella Grant received a message from Andy Lockwood: Melody Jewel died in a car accident on the way to the police station!

From now on, no one can testify against Helen Warren, and she will go unpunished.

Stella’s eyes were tinged with blood red, and she clenched her fists tightly, her sharp nails cutting into her palms.

If it weren’t for Aiden Fordham’s intervention, the two culprits would have already been in prison.

Vivi Sterling watched the blood dripping from her palm and walked out furiously.

...

In the evening, the Fordham family’s old mansion was brightly lit.

Stella Grant received a call and returned to the old mansion; she had planned to come on the weekend because she was about to leave and naturally wanted to have a meal with her grandfather.

At the dining table, Steven Fordham kept placing food in Stella’s bowl,

"Stella, eat more, you look so thin."

Stella curved her lips and chatted with the elderly man about everyday matters, and the atmosphere was quite cozy.

Suddenly.

Footsteps were heard at the restaurant entrance, and the butler greeted respectfully: "Young Master, you’re back."

Aiden Fordham, dressed in a dark suit, was tall and had a deep gaze.

He nodded and walked straight to the empty seat on Steven Fordham’s right, sitting directly across from Stella.

The air instantly became a bit stagnant.

Steven Fordham acted as if he hadn’t seen him and continued cheerfully placing food in Stella’s bowl: "Stella, try these orange ribs, your favorite."

Stella looked at the orange ribs in her bowl, thanked him, picked one up, and brought it to her mouth, taking a gentle bite.

Suddenly, her elegant eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"It’s so sour! Grandpa, did they put too much vinegar?"

Steven Fordham exclaimed: "No way. I remember two months ago, you especially loved sour food, didn’t you? You ate up a whole plate and even asked for more at night. This time, I specifically asked the kitchen to add more vinegar!"

Stella’s hand holding the chopsticks paused, two months ago...

Aiden Fordham’s gaze turned icy, two months ago...

Stella took a deep breath and, acting nonchalant, took a piece of fish for Steven Fordham, her voice level:

"Grandpa, try this fish, it’s steamed, good for your health."

Steven Fordham’s attention was diverted, and he happily ate the fish.

She gently reminded: "Grandpa, make sure to take the green pills I gave you on time. In the future... I may not come often, so please don’t slack off."

Steven Fordham’s smile faded a bit, and he sighed, suddenly saying:

"Girl, even though you can’t be my family’s daughter-in-law anymore, how about you be my granddaughter instead? This way, you can rightfully come visit me often."

Stella’s heart warmed, and she was about to speak.

"No way!"

Aiden Fordham’s resolute voice shattered the warmth. His sharp eyes and uncompromising tone.

Steven Fordham grew angry upon seeing him, tapping his cane heavily: "This household is not for you to decide!"

Stella quickly held Steven Fordham’s hand and patted it gently: "Grandpa, those are just formalities. Rest assured, I will... often... call you."

She changed the word ’returning’ to ’calling.’

Steven Fordham sighed: "Alright, alright, as long as you keep me in your heart as your grandfather!"

He didn’t have much appetite anymore.

"Stella, accompany me to the side room for a game of chess."

"Sure." Stella supported Steven Fordham and slowly walked to the side room.

In the dining hall, only Aiden Fordham remained.

He stared at the nearly untouched plate of orange ribs, the orange hue glaring.

A dull ache spread in his chest.

It spread through his limbs and bones.

Close to eleven o’clock, Stella finally emerged from the side room, ready to call the driver to pick her up.

A figure blocked her way.

Aiden Fordham.

He carried a faint smell of alcohol, and his gaze was complex as he looked at her.

"I’ll take you home." His voice was a bit hoarse.

Stella’s face showed no expression, her voice colder than ice: "No need to trouble you, President Fordham. I used to come alone and leave alone, and I’m used to it."

President Fordham.

These words pierced Aiden Fordham’s heart like needles.

His throat tightened: "Stella, I will give you an explanation about today’s events. Can you... wait for me a few days? Wait for me..."

"It’s not necessary." Stella interrupted him.

She lifted her eyes and looked straight at him, her gaze calm but exuding a piercing chill.

"Melody Jewel is dead, and no one can testify against Helen Warren anymore."

Aiden Fordham’s tall frame shuddered, his pupils contracted: "Dead?"

His face was an undisguised expression of shock.

Stella Grant looked at his appearance, a faint arc suddenly appeared at the corner of her mouth, full of sarcasm in that arc.

"Aiden Fordham, you’ve got what you wanted."

He looked at her cold and unfamiliar demeanor, and a huge panic surged in his heart.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist with such force that it almost crushed her bone.

"Stella! It wasn’t me! I will definitely find out! Believe me!"

Stella Grant forcefully shook off his hand, her movements resolute, without a trace of hesitation.

"It’s no longer important."

She said softly, then suddenly changed her tone, speaking lightly as if discussing the weather today.

"It’s just an ’embryo’. It’s not worth President Fordham’s endless contemplation."

The word ’embryo’, she bit off lightly and nonchalantly.

But her gaze, was filled with intense poison, carrying boundless hatred.

Aiden Fordham’s heart, panicked even more, as if tightly clenched by an invisible hand, causing him almost to suffocate.

He suddenly stepped forward, opened his arms, and held her tightly in his embrace.

His body trembled slightly.

"I’m sorry... Stella... I’m sorry... I didn’t know things would turn out this way... Don’t hate me... I beg you, don’t hate me..."

He incoherently apologized, his voice filled with pain and despair.

Stella Grant allowed him to hold her, without struggle or response.

Moments later, she stretched out her hand, placed it on his chest, and pushed him away forcefully.

She looked at him, a faint expression, almost of pity, appeared on her face.

"Hate you?"

"Aiden Fordham, you’re not worth it."

After speaking, she turned and walked toward the door without looking back.

This time, she did not cry!

Aiden Fordham froze in place, watching her resolutely leave, her silhouette slender yet upright.

Clearly, he wanted so much to keep her by his side, yet he did not chase;

Clearly, he wanted so much to call her "Stella," yet he did not call out;

The three words "you’re not worth it," echoed in his ears like a curse.

Each word, like a sharp knife, sliced him slowly.

Death by a thousand cuts!

Suddenly, a streak of moisture slid across his face, he dared not touch it, not knowing what it was!

Tagore once said: the eyes are raining for her, yet the heart is shielding her from the rain, this is love!

But, those in it are confused!

...

On the other side, in the luminous garden of a grand villa.

Vivi Sterling held her breath, crouched down, deftly dodging the surveillance cameras outside the villa.

Her attire today was as ordinary as a cleaner who had just finished work, the man following her looked even more unremarkable, it was the small camera tightly held in his arms that was the real purpose of their visit.

Corinne Kensington’s private villa, security was not top-notch but was also sufficiently strict.

The two of them managed to sneak into Corinne Kensington’s master bedroom without incident, the air still lingered with the luxurious perfume scent from the party.

Time ticked by second by second.

Vivi Sterling crouched behind the large floor-to-ceiling curtains, her legs numbed.

The man beside her was even more nervous, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Vivi, will it work?" He whispered, trembling.

"Shut up! Wait!" Vivi Sterling reprimanded softly, her eyes sharp as a hawk, staring intently at the room door.

Near midnight, the music downstairs finally subsided, the party seemed to be over.

It’s now!

The bedroom door clicked as it was pushed open from outside.

A tall woman walked in, followed by three tall men.

Everyone wore elaborate masks, their faces indistinguishable.

The woman was undoubtedly Corinne Kensington.

She lazily walked to the bed, directly lying down, her posture like a queen issuing orders.

Then came the scene that made faces blush and hearts race.

Behind the camera, Vivi Sterling’s eyes widened in shock.

Exciting.

Too exciting.

Damn, can this really happen?