Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 218: He Comes Bearing the Rod to Admit His Guilt
Fordham Group CEO’s Office
Aiden Fordham was sitting in his executive chair, his knuckles whitened from the pressure of gripping the sapphire sleeve buttons tightly in his palm.
The cold metal stung painfully against his skin.
They were the birthday gift she had given him last year.
What did he say at the time?
He said he didn’t like blue.
Then he casually tossed them into the drawer of the lounge.
He wished he could slap himself now.
His gaze fell on the small piece of metal on the desk, a data card he’d just taken out from the bottom of the sleeve button box. He had just reviewed the data on it.
He felt as if his soul had been drained from him, leaving only shock and an unquenchable tremor.
It was the life’s work of God N.
She handed it to the Fordham Group so effortlessly, including Bluebird’s shares.
If not for the "last letter" she left, he would never have found these forgotten sleeve buttons.
He remembered.
The night before his duel with Erwin, the wind at Skylake Peak was very cold.
She stood by his side and softly asked him if he remembered those sleeve buttons.
Turns out she had planned it all along.
That if she didn’t return, she’d entrust God N’s lifetime of research entirely to him.
His heart felt as if an invisible hand was gripping it ruthlessly, making it hard for him to breathe.
He pressed the intercom, "Keegan, come in."
"President Fordham." Keegan Lindsey opened the door and entered, cautiously observing his boss’s expression.
Aiden Fordham’s voice was severely hoarse, "When did my wife last come into my lounge?"
Keegan hung his head lower, his voice trembling with noticeable apprehension.
"The first time Madam came up to get you to sign the divorce papers, you were in a meeting."
"She waited for you in your office."
"Later... you returned with Miss Kensington. I guess that’s when Madam hid in the lounge."
Keegan paused, not daring to meet Aiden’s eyes, but continued speaking with forced courage.
"And later, you and Miss Kensington also entered the lounge."
"President Fordham, making Madam witness you and Miss Kensington together... was a heartbreaking scene."
Every word was like a poisoned dagger stabbing precisely into Aiden Fordham’s heart.
He looked up, casting a cold glare at Keegan.
"Your year-end bonus is gone."
"Get out."
Keegan felt a herd of llamas running wild in his mind, overwhelmed by grievance.
He thought: What’s the use of feeling guilty? Madam saw everything with her own eyes.
Those fatal three minutes, am I taking the blame for you?
He left the room, feeling dejected.
The office fell deathly silent.
Aiden Fordham closed his eyes, taking a deep, forceful breath.
Yet no matter what he did, his mind was full of images of her.
How she smiled, frowned, cried... What must she have looked like, hiding in the lounge, listening to him talking with Corinne Kensington?
He suddenly opened his eyes.
His gaze landed on a report on the file rack.
It was the health report D had tested for her, with her name on it.
He reached out to take the file, his long fingers gently traced over the words Stella Grant, over and over, as if he wanted to engrave those words into his very bones.
He had already seen the first page, and with a large hand, he flipped the report.
"Bang!" Keegan suddenly rushed in, shaking him with surprise.
"President Fordham! Great news!"
"Old Mr. Young has been taken to Lumina Isle! Madam... Madam is very likely there too!"
Aiden Fordham’s heart skipped a beat, and then a surge of joy rose within him.
Lumina Isle!
No wonder, no wonder he couldn’t find any trace of her despite using all his connections.
Lumina Isle, an official secret sanatorium, once you’re on the island, even signals are blocked.
He also knew that a special research group was set up there to target Nation A’s virus.
She had previously said that her mentor was waiting for her at Bluebird, and now the mentor had been taken to Lumina Isle, so she... she must be there too!
He made a swift decision.
"Prepare for departure to Lumina Isle immediately."
"Have Ezra coordinate with them right away; the Fordham Group will provide all the funding needed for their technical team."
His voice carried an unyielding determination.
"Tell them, I want to set foot on the island."
He strode out, filled with resolve.
The report on the desk, which he hadn’t had time to examine closely, was flipped to another page by a gust of wind.
On Aiden Fordham’s face was an irrepressible excitement; Hugh Whitman, that guy, hid it well indeed.
How could he have forgotten about Hugh’s official secret identity?
On Lumina Isle, the weather was sunny and pleasant.
Hugh Whitman answered the phone, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table.
"Young Master Hugh, they’ve admitted everything."
The voice over the phone sounded weary, clearly after an all-nighter.
"The account of Dean Warner suddenly had an extra ten million, it was hush money. He confessed the paternity test report was forged."
Hugh Whitman didn’t even lift his eyelids, speaking with ice-cold detachment.
"Who’s behind it all?"
"Corinne Kensington." The subordinate revealed the name.
"Dean Warner said this wasn’t the first time, earlier he sold the news of Miss Grant’s miscarriage to Corinne Kensington too, and we discovered he received a payment of one million for that occasion."
"And this time, we checked the transfer records, the money was transferred via her manager’s account."
Hugh Whitman’s fingers paused.
Corinne Kensington?
Wasn’t she in prison already? How could she reach this far while locked inside?
This matter runs very deep.
Smirking slightly, he issued calm yet commanding instructions.
"Keep investigating."
"I suspect it’s not that simple."
"Furthermore, uproot the Warner line entirely. Every one of his relatives in the hospital, clear them all out—no one from the Warner Family is ever allowed in the medical field again."
"Yes!"
The call ended.
Hugh Whitman gazed at the seawater outside the window, eyes deep in thought.
At this point, in the large classroom of the laboratory building.
Stella Grant stood in front of a massive whiteboard, holding a marker pen, looking intently focused.
"The core of Nation A’s virus lies in its mimicry and deceit to human genes; it’s not attacking but ’assimilating’."
Her cold, melodious voice echoed throughout the quiet lab.
Seated below were a dozen or so elderly doctors, each a titan in their field, currently sitting like school children, looking up and listening attentively to a young woman in her twenties lecture.
In their eyes, there was no scorn, only pure reverence and amazement.
God N!
This is the living God N! To hear her personally lecturing, what a privilege in this lifetime!
"Thus, my approach to detoxifying is reverse thinking."
Stella Grant sketched a complex molecular structure on the whiteboard.
"We don’t kill it; we ’trick’ it, making it step into the genetic trap we’ve laid."
As her words ceased, the room went completely silent.
After a few seconds, thunderous applause erupted.
Enlightenment!
This approach is simply mind-blowing!
Her understanding of viruses and genes has reached an appalling level.
"Now, I need your assistance, and you will be divided into three teams."
Stella Grant put down the pen and scanned the crowd.
"Team one, assist me in completing the final equation derivation."
"Team two, responsible for the synthesis of detox agents."
"Group three, prepare for human testing. If necessary, you need to personally interact with the patient."
The applause rang out again, even more enthusiastic than before.
"That’s all for today," Stella Grant nodded and turned to walk out of the laboratory.
Chief was waiting at the door, his face full of excitement as he greeted her.
"Miss Grant, thank you for your hard work! With you here, our team has rocketed ahead!"
Stella Grant responded indifferently, "It’s what I should do."
Chief rubbed his hands, his expression somewhat hesitant.
"Um... we have a distinguished guest about to arrive on the island."
"He’s specifically requesting to see you."
"Of course, I’ve kept my mouth shut and definitely haven’t said you’re here."
"A distinguished guest?" Stella Grant was a bit puzzled.
"It’s your husband, Aiden Fordham." Chief’s tone carried a touch of admiration, "He’s provided substantial funding for the entire research project. Magnate Fordham is truly an incredible philanthropist."
The words "Aiden Fordham" pierced Stella’s heart like a needle.
Her face instantly went pale, devoid of any color.
"I don’t want to see him." Her voice tightened, "Please don’t let him know I’m here either."
Chief was stunned, looking at her pale face, he quickly nodded, "Alright, alright, I know how to respond to him."
A warm hand gently rested on her shoulder; Hugh Whitman had come over at some point, his voice low and comforting.
"Don’t worry, I’ll think of something."
"Make sure he can’t find you."
At noon, Aiden Fordham, accompanied by Keegan Lindsey and two bodyguards, successfully landed on the island under official guidance.
At the dining table, Chief personally joined as a host, speaking with flawless officialese.
"President Fordham, you’re a real lifesaver! With the funding support from the Fordham Group, we’re like a tiger with wings, and we believe an antidote will be developed soon to benefit the people!"
Aiden had little patience for this. He set down his wine glass, his dark eyes fixating on Chief.
"Chief, my wife is unwell. I want to see her and bring her home to recuperate."
Straight to the point without any beating around the bush.
Chief’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept a smile on his face.
"You’re joking, right, President Fordham? How could someone like God N be on our little island? If you do see her, please convey my message—I want to hire her as our project’s technical advisor!"
A true old-timer.
Aiden’s gaze darkened; he didn’t bother with wordplay anymore.
"I want to see Old Mr. Young."
This tactic left Chief with no room to evade.
He could only brace himself and agree, "Alright, I’ll make arrangements."
...
Afternoon, Liam Young’s room.
Aiden Fordham was bare-chested, and there he knelt stiffly before Liam Young.
His broad back muscles were smooth and powerful, yet covered in intersecting scars, old wounds not fully healed, painting a striking picture.
Indeed, he had come to make amends.
"Old Mr. Young, I hurt Stella." His voice was hoarse, his head hung deeply, "I’m here to atone. Please punish me."
Liam Young looked at him, and though he felt some compassion, his words were harsh.
"You bastard!"
"How could someone as smart as you, Aiden Fordham, do such a foolish thing!"
"Life is equal; it doesn’t become more noble just because it’s your bloodline! That was a child, a life, part of her flesh and blood!"
"You can choose not to acknowledge it, but you absolutely cannot hurt it. How could you do such things and not chill her heart?"
"I was wrong." Aiden pressed his forehead against the cold ground, "Please, old Mr. Young, punish me."
"For this life and beyond, I will never divorce her; she is my only wife."
"Had you known this, why go through all of that in the beginning?" Liam Young took the cane from Aiden’s hand and swung it hard against his solid back.
Pa! Pa! Pa!
Three lashes.
He didn’t use full force, yet it was enough to leave marks and make the lesson memorable.
Fresh scars covered the old ones.
Aiden’s body merely trembled; he didn’t make a sound.
He lifted his red-rimmed eyes, pleading.
"Old Mr. Young, you know where Stella is, don’t you?"
"I want to see her, I want to ask for her forgiveness."
The old man tossed the cane aside and turned his face away.
"See if fate allows you; search for her yourself."
"Now get out of here, stop obstructing my view and interrupting my rest."
He didn’t say he didn’t know; he told him to search for himself, implicitly acknowledging she was indeed on the island, which sparked hope in Aiden’s heart.
He kowtowed heavily, the floor producing a dull sound.
"Old Mr. Young, thank you for your leniency. I will definitely find her."
"Take care."
With this, he supported himself on the ground, slowly stood up, eyes disturbingly red, and turned to walk out.
The door closed softly.
Another room’s door opened; Stella Grant walked out.
Her eyes were equally red.
Liam Young looked at her and sighed.
"Girl, can you still forgive this man?"
Stella Grant stared at the tightly closed door for a long time before slowly speaking.
Her voice was light, yet carried a chill that reached the bones.
"Master, love can be deceptive too. It wears the cloak of ’happiness,’ tempting you to taste it, sweet at first but spreading poison to the marrow with no cure in sight."
"I can no longer find a reason to forgive him."
Indeed, she didn’t want to be hurt again.
That night, the sea breeze blew wild as Stella lay in bed, unable to sleep.
The hospital room was only filled with her own heavy breathing, one after another.
Uneasy.
Elsewhere, Aiden Fordham’s people had discreetly checked all the hospital rooms in the building.
At the end of the corridor, only the last room remained.
313.
Aiden stood at the door, the air around him solidifying.
He raised his hand, his distinct fingers hovering in mid-air, hesitating to drop.
He had heard the woman living in this room was brought in covered in blood ten days ago and never left.
He was nearly certain she was inside.
The woman who had driven him to madness was separated from him by just this thin door panel.
His heart was gripped by an inexplicable emotion.
Finally, he was so close to her.
"Knock, knock."
The knocking sounded abruptly.
Stella’s body froze, her pupils instantly constricting.
He had come.
Had he found her here?
She clamped her mouth shut, not daring to make a sound, curled up under the blanket, pretending she was a non-existent object.
Outside, Aiden waited quietly.
No response from inside, eerily quiet.
He raised his hand again, knocking once more.
"Knock."
This time, the sound was heavier, inside remaining dead silent.
Just then, a bodyguard hurried from the elevator, his voice suppressed but urgent.
"President Fordham, Hugh Whitman took a private jet and left! Destination is The Imperial Capital!"
The bodyguard gasped and added.
"There’s another woman with him, her figure... looks a lot like madam."
Damn it!
Aiden’s face turned dark in an instant, the atmosphere around him terrifyingly tense.
He glared at the closed door, his gaze vicious.
