Weston frowned.
“We’ll keep it a secret from her for the time being,” he said.
“But even if no one tells her,” argued Ben, “she‘ll still find out when she sees Guinevere Cohen at the
wedding.”
Weston knew that too, of course.
“I won‘t let her be there,” he said coldly.
“But didn‘t you just promise Mr. Warren that you‘d let her attend?”
“I did,” Weston replied. “I promised that I would let her attend. However, whether she attends or not is her
problem.”
Ben fell silent for a moment before he finally responded . “You don‘t mean that you‘ll...”
“It‘s a long journey from her house to the wedding location,” Weston explained. “It‘ll be unsurprising if an
accident were to happen on the way.”
Ben‘s mouth was agape when he finally understood Weston‘s plan.
“That is a clever plan indeed...” he marveled.
Not only would it appease Mr. Warren Ford and pacify the Cohen family, but it would also teach
Guinevere a lesson for daring to make such an outrageous request.
Weston had managed to kill not two but three birds with one stone!
Stella had been in a grim mood ever since she returned from Warren‘s manor.
She knew that no matter what happened, Guinevere would always hold a special place in Weston‘s
heart. What shocked her, however, was how overly confident she was of herself. If Weston could agree
to such an absurd request, it must mean that he did, at the very least, care about what she felt!
Even if she had any doubts about running away during the wedding, they were all quelled now. She
knew one thing for sure –she had to run away and escape Weston, no matter what.
Guinevere would never give up on Weston, and Weston didn‘t seem to be so resolute in his rejection of
her. If he could agree to let her come to their wedding, Stella could tell that once his infatuation for her
had worn off, he would just let Guinevere do whatever she liked to her.
When Weston finally got back to their apartment, Stella was already cooking in the kitchen. Warmth and
delectable aroma filled the house.
Weston paused and watched the petite woman busy at work in the kitchen. The scene reminded him of
the early days of their marriage...
Back then, Stella would often work hard in the kitchen, just as she was doing now. She would make sure
that the food was
precisely to Weston‘s taste, closely observing his preferences and how he liked the food. He was the
entire world to her, where nothing and no one else mattered. Her eyes shone with unconditional love for
him.
At present, Stella‘s mind was full of troubling thoughts while she was cooking that she didn‘t even notice
Weston coming in. Just when she was about to put the last ingredient into the pot, a pair of robust arms
suddenly wrapped her waist...
“What are you doing?”
Stella‘s body stiffened when she heard the voice. It was the same voice that agreed to let Guinevere
attend the wedding earlier that day.
He would forever be compromising whenever it came to Guinevere, wouldn‘t he?
“Weston...” she hesitatingly began. She was stirring the soup in the pot with a wooden spoon, but her
eyes were vacant and distant.
“Where were you the day Roger was sent to the hospital ?” she finally plucked up her courage to ask.
She never should‘ve been bothered with this, but stil...
She quietly sneered at herself.
Weston rested his chin on her shoulder. He seemed perfectly calm as he playfully nibbled her ear lobe.
“I had some business to attend to,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”
“What kind of business?” she asked again, insistent on getting a definite answer.
She then turned down the heat to low and turned around to look at him before continuing, “I remember
that you were gone for a long time that day. Was it something serious?”
He swept her hair behind her ears and stroked her face. “Why do you ask all of a sudden, hmm?”
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