Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 205: Choose Your Favorite and Lead the First Dance
Andy Lockwood gently rubbed her head.
Since their last parting in Mardale, he thought he had moved on, but unexpectedly, upon seeing her again, his heart ached so intensely.
This was his girl, so beautiful, so radiant...
He took a small velvet pouch from his pocket, and inside was a platinum necklace.
The necklace’s pendant was surprisingly a Peace Lock meticulously carved from a whole piece of red diamond.
The red diamond was the largest existing in the world, its value immeasurable by money, truly a priceless treasure.
He gently placed the necklace on her snow-white, slender neck, and the cool touch of the metal sent a shiver through her.
Then, he leaned in and whispered something only she could hear in her ear.
"You’ve finally found your home, and I’m really happy for you."
"Take care of yourself and the baby, it’s the path you chose, promise me to be happy, okay?"
The baby...
How did he know she had a baby? He seemed to know everything.
Stella’s heart felt like something heavy had struck it.
Though he had left her world, it seemed he had never really gone far.
She knew that without his early help and support, she and Aiden Fordham might have been buried together in Mardale long ago.
"Okay, I will." Stella nodded, and tears uncontrollably rolled down her face.
The crowd watched as the Eldest Miss Whitman was so emotional and out of control, completely unaware of what President Lockwood had said to her.
In their eyes, it was clearly the deep affection found only between lovers reunited after a long separation.
Eldest Miss Whitman must have profound feelings for President Lockwood.
Aiden Fordham and Ethan Monroe watched this scene, both clenching their fists tightly, their knuckles whitening with force, consumed by a jealousy that was driving them insane.
Andy Lockwood gently wiped away her tears, softly saying.
"Don’t cry, or you won’t look pretty in a while."
After speaking, he leaned closer and gently kissed her forehead.
The touch was warm, full of infinite reluctance and heart-wrenching pain.
But this would be the last kiss he could give her in this life.
Offstage, Vivi Sterling excitedly recorded the scene on her phone as if witnessing an explosive incident.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling watched the live stream on their phones, so excited they could hardly contain themselves from rushing to the scene.
Their Stella, was actually the long-lost eldest daughter of the Whitman family.
It was wonderful, truly surprising.
She had finally found her home.
Hugh Whitman approached, his eyes slightly red but with a comforting smile.
He broke the brief silence.
"Sierra, the dance is about to start."
His voice was gentle, like a spring breeze brushing over the lake.
"You are the protagonist tonight, and you will lead the first dance."
"All the gentlemen in attendance are yours to choose from for your favorite dance partner."
At his words, all eyes turned towards her.
Aiden Fordham, Ethan Monroe, and Andy Lockwood stood not far away.
Their gazes were intense, firmly fixed on her, like followers looking up to their sole idol.
Waiting for her to come, hoping to complete this dance symbolizing new beginnings with her.
Below the stage, over one hundred young talents from across the country, the cream of the single aristocracy, held their breath, eagerly anticipating.
Her choice would undoubtedly reveal who she cherished in her heart.
Tomorrow’s headline was already being drafted frantically in everyone’s minds.
Who would the Eldest Miss Whitman ultimately choose?
The atmosphere on site was tense to the extreme, the air seemed frozen, and even the sound of breathing was clearly audible.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, she moved.
The hem of her golden gown drew a graceful arc as she stepped toward Aiden Fordham.
Aiden Fordham’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest.
Instinctively, he adjusted the collar of his crisp suit, his fingers poised to embrace her slender waist.
However, she simply walked past him lightly.
A faint, elegant fragrance swept past, taking away all his hopes.
Aiden Fordham’s world collapsed at that moment.
Beside him, Ethan Monroe’s eyes suddenly lit up.
Unable to contain himself, he whispered softly, audible to only the two of them.
"Sierra."
But still, she did not stop, her silhouette decisive.
As she passed Andy Lockwood, she finally turned her head and gave him a bright smile.
In that smile, there was apology, reassurance, and a mutual understanding beyond words.
Aiden Fordham and Ethan Monroe’s expressions changed suddenly, was she choosing... Andy Lockwood?
Ultimately, Andy Lockwood was the one who understood her best in this world.
He returned a gentle smile and mouthed softly, "Go ahead."
Stella Grant stepped down from the stage gracefully and calmly.
She walked into the larger crowd.
Wow...
Below the stage, over a hundred men instantly became restless.
The Eldest Miss Whitman was coming over.
Did she abandon the three outstanding gentlemen on stage to choose another among them as her husband?
This was like a pie falling from the sky, a stroke of great fortune.
"Miss Whitman."
"Miss Whitman."
They all slightly bowed, humble and gentlemanly, reaching out their hands in hope of crossing their fingers with fortune.
The sight of over a hundred men simultaneously reaching out for a dance was truly spectacular.
In this moment, Stella was undeniably the queen.
She wandered around the crowd for a while, her skirts swirling, the fresh fragrance lingering under everyone’s noses, leaving all in a daze.
Finally, she stopped in front of Reuben Sloan.
Playfully, she extended her hand to the elderly gentleman with silver hair.
"I went around and still believe you are the most handsome."
"Would you accompany me for the first dance?"
Reuben Sloan could hardly believe his ears, quickly passing his pear wood cane to his daughter, gripping her soft little hand excitedly.
"Yes, yes."
Once again, the guests were flabbergasted.
So, the Eldest Miss Whitman chose Master Sloan.
This choice was both mischievous and heartwarming.
From afar, Aiden Fordham and Ethan Monroe simultaneously let out an unseen sigh of relief.
They saw her smiling.
Her smile was so radiant, so unburdened.
The love in their eyes flourished even more in that moment.
The lush waltz slowly played.
Reuben Sloan held Stella gently and led her gracefully into the dance floor.
His steps were a bit rusty, marked by time’s stiffness, yet careful and steadily accurate.
Soon, other guests joined, surrounded by elegance and beauty.
Stella rested her cheek lightly against her grandfather’s shoulder, her voice as soft as a feather.
"Grandfather, could you gift me that little foot painting?"
Reuben Sloan’s body suddenly stiffened, followed by a surge of immense joy and overwhelming emotion.
The girl actually called him... grandfather? He was the first family member she acknowledged.
"Yes, yes, as long as you like, everything of grandfather’s is yours."
He could no longer hold back; tears of joy and relief overwhelmed him.
He hugged the treasure he regained so tightly, his lips trembling with excitement.
"Girl, this old man waited so long for you to come back..."
Warm tears fell on Stella’s shoulder one by one, scalding with warmth.
Eighteen years passed, the little foot had grown up.
Stella smiled slightly.
Only, the smile held tears that couldn’t be stopped, her eyes had long become a sea...
There is a kind of love that never expires, and that is family love.
...
In the evening, the internet servers once again crashed.
The trending list was dominated by the same name.
#God N Stella Grant turned out to be Whitman family’s Eldest Miss#
#Three top moguls simultaneously courtship at the reunion banquet#
#Eldest Miss Whitman and Master Sloan’s first dance warmed the crowd#
#Actress Corinne Kensington imprisoned#
#Magnate Fordham offers a priceless crown to his beloved wife#
#The Lover Ethan Monroe Waited 18 Years For#
Behind every entry, a glaring "Explosion" character followed.
Countless videos and articles frantically dominated the pages; tonight, sleeplessness was destined.
The family reunion banquet slowly came to an end amidst the din and flashing magnesium lights.
In the end, Vivi Sterling and Stella Grant stayed at the Whitman Residence, and all the guests, including Magnate Fordham who wished he could cling to her, had to leave.
In the warm princess room, the air was filled with a sweet aroma.
It was a pink ocean here.
A huge castle-shaped princess bed, with hand-painted murals on the walls, depicted a playful little girl chasing butterflies in the garden.
The most striking was the wall of gift cabinets.
It was packed with gifts, all tagged.
"Sierra’s 1st birthday gift."
"Sierra’s 2nd birthday gift."
...
Up to, "Sierra’s 24th birthday gift."
Twenty-four years, never missed.
Stella trembled as she picked up a pink ragdoll, sitting dazedly by the bed, her eyes swollen terribly.
She had returned.
Returned to her true home.
But everything that happened tonight was so overwhelming, making her feel disoriented, her mind a blank, always feeling like she would wake from this beautiful dream at any moment.
Knock, knock.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
The door was gently pushed open, and Selene Sloan entered, carrying a bowl of dessert.
She walked up to Stella, her voice tender enough to wring water from it.
"Sierra, I made some lily sweet soup for you; drinking it will help you sleep."
She handed over the delicate white porcelain bowl.
Stella reached out to take it, feeling the warmth spread through her palms, and spoke softly.
"Thank you."
Selene sat down beside her, looking at her profile, and cautiously began speaking.
"Sierra, I’m sorry. It was my mistake in not recognizing you."
"The day I first saw you at the club, I should have identified you immediately..."
Selene’s eyes turned red instantly, her voice thick with nasality and regret.
"I even assisted that impostor, Corinne Kensington, in bullying you... It’s all my fault as a mother."
She choked up, reaching out to touch Stella but timidly drew back.
"Can you... forgive me, Mom?"
Stella’s hand, holding the spoon, halted in mid-air.
Inside her, an intense struggle ensued, setting off turbulent waves.
Silence.
A silence stretched for over ten seconds, nearly solidifying the air.
She finally spoke, word by word, slowly.
"Mrs. Whitman, I’m a bit tired." She lifted her head, her gaze calm and unwavering.
"Thank you for the sweet soup; I’ll drink it."
She addressed her as Mrs. Whitman.
Not... Mom.
The color drained instantly from Selene’s face, her heart seized so tightly she couldn’t breathe.
She stood up abruptly, forcing a calm smile, but her lips quivered uncontrollably.
"Ah, well, then drink up and rest early."
Having said that, she almost fled from the room in disarray.
As the door closed, her world was drenched in pouring rain.
Silence returned to the room.
Stella scooped a spoonful of sweet soup, slowly putting it in her mouth.
Her eyes turned red.
It was very sweet.
Sickeningly so, with an unspeakable bitterness stuck in her throat, neither up nor down.
In another large room, Vivi Sterling emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a silk robe, yawning, her hair still dripping wet.
Just then, she heard a slight noise.
Following the sound, she pushed open a side door nearby.
The scene before her made her pupils contract sharply.
Hugh Whitman was standing with his back to her, half of his shirt off, revealing a sculpted upper body and smooth back lines.
A hideous scar was etched onto his shoulder.
Hugh heard the door being opened, his body stiffened, and he quickly pulled his shirt back up, buttoning it tightly.
Vivi’s heart clenched tightly; without thinking, she rushed over.
He sidestepped, avoiding her approach, his tone slightly distant and mocking.
"What does Miss Sterling intend to do?"
"Breaking into my room, do you plan on taking advantage of me?"
Vivi was completely bewildered, "This is your room?"
She looked around, the minimalist black and white décor, cold and full of masculine aura.
"It was clearly a servant who brought me in; I felt it was strange..."
Indeed, she was too sleepy, the servant opened the door, and she went straight to the bathroom.
Hugh raised an eyebrow, his tone indifferent.
"What do you think?"
He turned slightly, allowing her to see the entire wardrobe.
It contained at least over a hundred high-end tailored suits, shirts, ties, name-brand watches, and sleeve buttons, all neatly categorized and arranged.
This display clearly belonged to Hugh Whitman.
Vivi felt a bit embarrassed.
"Oh, sorry, I’ll switch rooms in a bit."
As soon as she spoke, she suddenly came to her senses, urgently asking, "Can I see that scar on your back?"
She remembered clearly, Zane Zimmerman’s scar was in that position too.
And, Zane Zimmerman was allergic to anesthesia, just like Hugh Whitman.
This was too much of a coincidence.
Hugh’s eyes flickered, a playful curve tugging at his lips.
"Miss Sterling, so you have a fetish for looking at men’s bodies."
Vivi’s face flushed immediately, unable to respond, choked by his words.
Regaining her composure, she asked again, "Have you... ever been to Mardale?"
He barely hesitated, firmly stating three words.
"Never been."
The spark in Vivi’s eyes instantly extinguished, unable to hide her disappointment.
Indeed.
A bitter taste arose in her heart; how could he possibly be Zane Zimmerman?
His face was flawless, strikingly handsome, while Zane’s face had been shot.
She really was crazy to associate them together again and again.
The air stayed silent for over ten seconds.
She then whispered, "Then could you arrange another room for me?"
He wasn’t in a rush, stepping closer to her with an imperceptible hint of flirtation in his tone.
"Afraid of me?"
"I can’t do anything to you, so what’s there to fear?"
Vivi rolled her eyes at him, taking a step back, "I hate seeing you, isn’t that reason enough?"
Hugh watched her for two seconds, leisurely buttoning his shirt one by one, then said, "Let’s go."
He opened the door first.
Vivi had no choice but to follow behind him.
They kept walking, turning down a long corridor, then another, even going up a floor.
My God, this Whitman residence is just too large, like a maze.
Unable to bear it anymore, she asked, panting, "Are we there yet? Can’t I have a nearer room, just opposite you?"
Without turning back, he tossed a cold rebuttal, "No, the guest rooms are in the West District."
Finally, he stopped at the far end of a long corridor, pushing the door open.
Inside, it was very clean, the windows bright and clean, yet for some reason, exuded a strange coldness.
Suddenly, from the window ledge came a "clatter" and sharp scratching sound.
Vivi was so startled she instinctively turned around and clung tightly to Hugh’s body.
"Ah, don’t leave, I’m scared..."
Another scratching sound came from the window ledge.
Vivi held onto him tighter, her voice wavering.
"Woo, can I... stay in your room tonight?"
