Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 197: Proposing to Her at the Reunion Banquet

Chapter 197: Chapter 197: Proposing to Her at the Reunion Banquet

Claire was still sitting at the table, quietly eating the pastries.

She was truly hungry, so excited tonight that she hadn’t eaten dinner.

The desserts at Stellario Hotel were surprisingly good, but she could taste a hint of bitterness.

Vivi Sterling’s phone suddenly rang, and she got up to answer it away from the table.

"Claire." A gentle male voice sounded in her ear.

It was Damian Hawthorne.

Unbeknownst to her, he had come to her side, his gaze falling on her face as she ate with relish.

There was a bit of white cream on the corner of her mouth.

He naturally picked up a napkin and gently wiped it away for her, just as he had done countless times before.

His eyes and brows were filled with unmistakable tenderness.

Claire’s movements paused.

She quickly picked up the carefully wrapped gift from beside her chair and handed it to him.

She gestured in sign language.

[Happy Birthday.]

In fact, she had practiced the phrase "Happy Birthday, Damian Hawthorne" for a long time and could say it clearly.

She had wanted to surprise him.

But now, she suddenly didn’t want to say it.

Damian accepted the lightweight gift, a hint of surprise appearing in his eyes.

He smiled softly, "A gift you got for me?"

"Let me guess, is it caramel candy?"

Claire lowered her eyes and gestured again.

[I got it from a prize draw when buying things at the supermarket.]

He laughed, his voice indulgent.

"Whatever you give me, I like it all."

"Thank you."

He reached out with his warm hand, ruffling her soft hair as he always did.

Claire gestured again.

[The food here is really tasty.]

The smile in his eyes deepened, "Then you should eat more."

She hesitated for a moment, then suddenly gestured a question.

She asked him [Do you still have any snacks I like on you?]

Damian stood up, spreading his arms gently, "Come on, search for yourself."

Claire suddenly threw herself into his arms, hugging his waist tightly.

Her small hands clasped together, afraid that if she let go, he would disappear, yet he ultimately no longer belonged to... her.

Damian was taken aback, his heart feeling as if it had been hit heavily by something.

"Damian." A soft female voice interjected, it was Nancy Summers.

Claire quickly released him, and as she turned, he saw the tears in her eyes...

Nancy walked over and familiarly linked her arm through Damian’s, pulling him away.

Claire looked back at the table where the gift laid forgotten.

He hadn’t taken it.

She reached out, her fingertips trembling slightly, to reclaim the gift.

She wiped away her tears with her hand, then lowered her head, using a spoon to finish the remaining pastries on the plate, as if completing some task.

After finishing, she picked up the gift, ready to leave.

The surface of the pool reflected the dazzling lights of the banquet hall, shimmering.

As Claire passed the poolside, a sudden powerful force struck her fiercely on the back.

She was completely unprepared and fell forward.

"Splash—"

The icy pool water immediately engulfed her.

The biting cold swept over her, she wanted to cry out, but not a sound could escape her throat.

She wasn’t a good swimmer, struggling desperately in the water, only to sink repeatedly.

The gift slipped from her hand, drifting away, and she watched it, instinctively wanting to grab it.

Yet her body moved uncontrollably towards the deep end of the pool.

"Someone’s fallen into the water!"

"Quick, save her!"

A cry of alarm pierced the noise of the banquet.

Vivi Sterling heard the commotion, her face turning pale with fright, and she rushed to the poolside at once.

"Claire!" she shouted, ready to jump in without hesitation.

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed her arm.

It was Hugh Whitman.

His expression was anxious, his words quick, "Stay here, I’ll go."

With that, he dove into the water without hesitation, quickly retrieving the steadily sinking Claire.

When Hugh held her, her hands were still reaching futilely forward, trying to grab the gift floating further away.

But in the end, she couldn’t reach it.

He carried her to the shore.

A waiter immediately brought over two dry large towels, handing one to Hugh and one to Claire.

The nearby guests gathered around.

Vivi Sterling took the towel and tightly wrapped the drenched Claire.

She wiped the water droplets from Claire’s face with distress.

Stella Grant also quickly approached, terrified by what she saw.

"Claire, how did you fall in, did you get hurt?"

Claire shook her head, her lips cold and tinged with an almost imperceptible tremble.

She gestured, [I’m alright, it’s just that the gift got wet.]

She looked back, her gaze stubbornly fixed on the gift floating in the center of the pool, full of sadness.

Damian quickly approached, his expression dark.

"What happened? How did she fall into the water?"

Claire said nothing, just shivered silently.

Nancy Summers quickly stepped forward, speaking with concern.

"She’s soaked through, take her to the room to change into something dry, or she’ll catch a cold."

Her manner was as if she were the mistress here.

But Damian seemed not to hear her words.

He directly took off his suit jacket and draped it over Claire’s slender shoulders.

Claire looked up, meeting his concerned gaze, and slowly gestured a sentence in sign language.

Damian’s face instantly turned grim, and in a fit of rage, he shouted.

"No one leaves!"

"Investigate! Find out who pushed her into the water! Check the surveillance!"

Nancy was startled by his sudden anger, her body jerking.

This little mute.

Damian was indeed very different with this little mute.

It wasn’t long before the waiter who had bumped into someone was brought over.

A little questioning revealed that the mastermind behind the scenes was... Nancy Summers.

Nancy’s face turned as pale as paper in an instant.

She hurriedly defended herself, "Damian, it wasn’t me, I didn’t do it!"

"It was this little mute who colluded with the waiter, they’re framing me!"

Vivi Sterling was immediately infuriated, "Does our Sterling Family’s Third Miss need to frame an insignificant green tea like you?"

"Would you stoop to such a level over a ten-dollar set of keys?"

Damian Hawthorne’s gaze was as cold as ice.

"Take her away. From now on, she is not allowed to step foot in Meritopia again."

"All support from the Hawthorne Family to her is canceled."

Two bodyguards promptly stepped forward and dragged her away, ignoring Nancy’s struggles.

Nancy’s screams of regret echoed through the night, but it was already too late.

The surrounding guests watched the scene and started whispering, pointing at Nancy’s retreating figure.

"This woman seemed harmless, but her heart is so vicious."

"She really thought she was the mistress of the Hawthorne Family, daring to play tricks on such an occasion. She’s totally out of her league..."

Damian Hawthorne walked over to Claire, his voice softening considerably.

"I’m sorry for the suffering you endured."

She lifted her head and gave him a smile, one that exuded a sense of detachment.

She signed a few words then turned around and left without looking back.

No one present understood what she signed.

Only Damian understood.

At that moment, the light in his eyes completely dimmed.

Stella Grant glanced coldly at Damian, "Please, Young Master Hawthorne, go fetch the gift."

"That was what Claire smashed her little piggy bank to buy."

"That was her entire fortune."

"If you can’t give her everything, don’t give her anything at all."

With that, she turned and left with Claire.

Back at the Sterling home, the lights were warmly suitable.

Mrs. Sterling almost immediately rushed out of the living room and hugged Claire.

"Quick, go change your clothes."

She pointed towards the brightly lit dining room.

"Tonight, we’ve prepared a super feast for you."

The long dining table was almost overflowing with a myriad of dishes.

Next to the boiling hot pot were over forty plates of various meats and seafood, a pile of spicy crayfish, and specialty foods flown in from all over, even more sumptuous than a New Year’s feast.

Claire looked up, her eyes getting slightly teary. She smiled broadly at her mother, excitedly signing a few gestures before turning and running upstairs.

All of this was specially organized by Vivi Sterling with their parents in advance.

Soon, Claire was back downstairs.

She had changed into a clean white dress, her slightly damp hair already dry, smoothly draped over her shoulders, making her look fresh and clean without a trace of unhappiness.

The family sat around the steaming hot pot, clinking glasses, laughter and joy resonated warmly in the air.

The warmth here was a thousand times better than that cold birthday party.

Keegan Lindsey showed up just then.

He held the familiar 001 robot in his arms, "Ma’am, President Fordham asked me to bring it over."

"Alright." Stella Grant stepped forward to receive it and gave its little hand a squeeze.

As soon as 001 landed, its wheels spun smoothly, it enthusiastically waved its mechanical little hand.

"Hi everyone."

Its electronic eyes scanned over the hot pot with an exaggerated exclamation.

"Wow, the hot pot smells amazing, life without hot pot is incomplete."

This genuine exclamation instantly amused everyone present.

Only Mr. Sterling’s expression still didn’t look good.

seemed to sense the low pressure and rolled over to Mr. Sterling, tilting its little head.

"President Sterling, you don’t look well."

"I may have offended you earlier, please forgive me."

Mr. Sterling snorted coldly from his nostrils, "Get lost."

But there seemed to be no "give up" option in 001’s programming, it stubbornly opened its mouth again.

"To show my apology, I’ll sing you a song."

As soon as the words left, its little hands and feet began to dance clumsily, belting out a piercing electronic serenade.

"It’s a pity you didn’t stay with me till the end, and hurt my old waist oh oh oh..."

"Without you, I feel like no one wants me again..."

"Shut up!" Mr. Sterling finally had enough, got up intending to catch it.

But 001 was faster than the wind, nimbly dodging in the spacious living room, leaving behind a string of catchy tunes.

The girls laughed so hard they were bent over, tears streaming down their faces.

As the night deepened.

At the top floor of Stellario Hotel, the birthday party had long ended, the evening breeze bringing a slight chill.

Aiden Fordham and Hugh Whitman were still drinking, while Damian Hawthorne was passed out on the sofa. Aiden motioned for someone to help him down.

The terrace was left with just the two of them.

Hugh Whitman lit a cigarette, its crimson tip flickered in the dark.

He took a deep puff and slowly exhaled white smoke.

As the smoke dispersed, his voice drifted along, "Corinne Kensington isn’t Sierra, she’s a fake."

Aiden Fordham didn’t even lift his eyelids; he gazed at the dazzling city lights in the distance, his tone colder than the night breeze.

"I thought all you Whitman Family members were blind."

Hugh’s hand holding the cigarette suddenly paused; he turned his head, his voice betraying an unmistakable shock, "The real Sierra is Stella Grant?"

Aiden finally retracted his gaze, speaking slowly, each word carrying undeniable gravity.

"Until all the dangers in The Imperial Capital are cleared, I won’t let her return to the Whitman Family."

"Corinne Kensington is the best warning."

Hugh’s expression turned extremely serious, he extinguished the cigarette butt.

"I’ve received your information, I’ll start with the Lindsey Family tomorrow. I’ll sweep through, leaving no hidden dangers."

Aiden picked up his wine glass, gently swirling the amber liquid inside.

"You know how crucial it is to choose sides, I’m going to propose to her at the recognition banquet."

Hugh snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Who would have thought, even the wealthiest man needs to resort to back channels."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Aiden’s lips.

"You probably don’t know, the Eldest Miss Sterling had a first love... who just returned to the country."

He paused, his gaze landing on Hugh’s momentarily stiffened face.

"And that’s not someone from the Grant Family."

Hugh’s face visibly turned an ashen blue, a sense of crisis instantly surging...