Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 213: Pampered Wife—One-Day Freshness Period

Chapter 213: Chapter 213: Pampered Wife—One-Day Freshness Period

The Imperial Capital.

Ethan Monroe’s brows were deeply furrowed, a cigarette held between his slender fingers.

He stood in front of the large floor-to-ceiling window, looking up at the gray sky outside.

It seemed like it was about to snow again.

She had already left, seemingly without a sound, yet she took his heart with her.

But he wouldn’t easily let her go, she was his Sierra after all.

The office door was knocked on, and the assistant hurried in.

"President Monroe, the virus in Nation A is too severe, nearly all our hospitals are overwhelmed."

The assistant’s tone was urgent.

"The current treatment methods are ineffective, many patients can’t hold on."

"They are requesting us to immediately dispatch experts to assist and come up with a solution swiftly."

"If we can invite God N to participate in the research to develop a cure, eliminating the source of the disease, not only would it save millions of lives, but it would also be a historic opportunity for the group."

Ethan Monroe was silent for a few seconds, his deep eyes showing no emotion.

"Get a formal invitation letter sent to Bluebird Technologies."

"Also compile all the virus data acquired from the hospitals and send it over."

"We need to officially invite God N through official channels."

"Alright."

The assistant nodded and quickly retreated.

Ethan Monroe slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, the furrow in his brow showing no sign of easing.

Suddenly, the phone on the desk vibrated.

He picked up the phone and pressed the answer button, his deep eyes darkening.

A few seconds later, the call ended.

A meaningful smile suddenly appeared on his handsome, cold face.

"Paternity test."

"Interesting."

...

The Sovereign Estate

Stella Grant awoke, and the sky outside the window was already darkening.

It was already dinner time.

She moved and felt as if her arms had been disassembled and reassembled, sore and limp beyond belief.

That dog of a man, he was simply unbearable at noon...

Thinking about it made her cheeks flush with heat.

With a "creak," the door was pushed open.

Aiden Fordham walked in with a water cup, his handsome face full of smug satisfaction.

He placed the water cup on the bedside table and gently helped her up, his voice deep and hoarse with satisfaction,

"Grandpa came to see you, get up, freshen up, and get ready for dinner."

At the mention of "Grandpa," Stella Grant couldn’t care about anything else and jumped directly out of bed.

In the dining room, Steven Fordham was sitting spiritedly in the main seat, and surprisingly, Laura Monroe was also there.

"Grandpa," Stella Grant called sweetly, walking over to sit beside him.

Seeing her, Steven Fordham smiled broadly, "Stella, Grandpa is so happy today! You must take good care of my little great-grandchild. I brought the chefs from home to make their signature orange spareribs for you."

The warmth filled Stella Grant’s heart, and she smiled, "Thank you, Grandpa."

At this moment, Laura Monroe, who hadn’t spoken yet, spoke up.

"When Aiden was little, a senior gave him this Peace Lock. I specially brought it for you, hoping you and the child can be safe and sound."

As soon as she finished speaking, the servant behind her handed over an exquisite wooden box.

The box opened to reveal a small Peace Lock made of high-quality Nephrite Jade, intricately carved and obviously quite valuable.

"Thank you, Madam," Stella Grant nodded in thanks, adhering to the rule Laura Monroe had set when she entered.

She wasn’t allowed to call her mother, only Madam.

Laura Monroe felt a bit embarrassed hearing this title.

"From now on, call me Mom, not Madam."

She picked up the teacup and gently blew on the hot steam, "You’re now the Eldest Miss Whitman, and the Whitmans’ marriage with the Fordhams is known throughout the land. If we still act distant, we’ll be laughed at by outsiders."

Such a "mother" for not wanting to be laughed at by outsiders.

One wonders who wanted her out of the Fordham Family before.

Stella Grant lowered her eyes, said nothing, only murmuring, "Hmm."

"Come, let’s eat! Don’t let my little great-grandchild go hungry." Steven Fordham laughed heartily, directly grabbing a large piece of rib for Stella Grant.

Stella Grant picked up her chopsticks, ready to eat, but her wrist went weak, losing strength.

"Clatter."

The chopsticks fell straight to the ground.

Oh my, how embarrassing.

Seeing this, Aiden Fordham immediately instructed the servants, "Get a new pair of chopsticks."

He turned his head and moved Stella Grant’s bowl and plate in front of him, his voice low and tinged with guilt and coaxing, "Don’t move, I’ll feed you."

After saying this, he picked up the soup bowl.

It was all his fault, not knowing his limits at noon.

Stella Grant glared at him, squeezing out a few words through gritted teeth, "I can manage myself, go away."

Yet Aiden Fordham seemed oblivious, lips curled in a mischievous smile, bringing the spoon to her mouth, "Come on, open up."

Stella Grant felt a shiver under his gaze, resignedly taking a sip.

Steven Fordham, seeing his grandson spoiling his wife like this, laughed even more happily.

"Stella, just like that! From now on, no matter what task at home, let him do it, don’t tire yourself. You’re too skinny; eat more for your health’s sake, for the baby’s sake."

Stella Grant nodded, "Alright, Grandpa."

Laura Monroe, seeing the couple being so affectionate, said no more.

After all, Eldest Miss Whitman was now her daughter-in-law, making her proud.

With the atmosphere just right, Steven Fordham suddenly switched the topic.

"By the way, the virus in Nation A is becoming severe. I heard many international agencies invited ’Bluebird’ to participate in researching the cure."

"Stella, you’re pregnant now, absolutely don’t get involved in those dangerous affairs." Steven Fordham’s expression turned serious, "Put the child first in everything."

His sharp gaze swept over Aiden Fordham, "Leave the rest to Aiden to handle."

Stella Grant obediently nodded.

She knew about this matter, Iris Summers had already sent her over a dozen emails, all reporting on the virus status.

Aiden Fordham’s deep voice promised, "Grandpa, rest assured. I’ll keep an eye on her; she won’t have a chance in the lab."

After the meal, Steven Fordham and Laura Monroe stayed for tea before getting up to leave.

Shortly after sending them off, Stella Grant’s phone rang.

It was a call from her mentor.

As expected, it was about the virus in Nation A.

The two talked in the study for about half an hour; when Stella Grant came out, her complexion was somewhat grave.

Aiden Fordham came over with a warm bowl of bird’s nest soup, seeing her troubled expression, wrapped an arm around her waist.

"What’s wrong?"

She looked up into his deep eyes and spoke directly, "I want to go back to Bluebird."

The man was silent for a few seconds, his gaze deep, "About Nation A’s virus?"

She nodded, explaining the situation concisely.

"Actually, I’m aware of what the virus in Nation A is, and can research an antidote."

"I just need Bluebird’s PhDs to do it, while I provide technical guidance. Moreover, my mentor will be there too."

Her tone turned grave, "The situation is dire now; many lives have been lost. If not curtailed promptly, the virus could spread worldwide, claiming even more lives."

"I really want to go and see."

Her capacity wouldn’t let her sit idly by.

Aiden Fordham bowed his eyes, pondered for a moment, and finally decided.

"I’m returning to the company tomorrow to handle some urgent matters. In two days, I’ll accompany you to F-Country."

He squeezed her hand, his tone unyielding, "But you must promise me, prioritize your health above all, and absolutely avoid direct contact with those virus sources."

Stella Grant paused, then smiled.

For the first time, she felt the man was so considerate.

"Okay."

He led her to sit down on the couch, "Come on, drink the bird’s nest soup first."

She reached for the bowl, but he turned his wrist, dodging her hand.

The man picked up the spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and directly brought it to her lips.

Spoonful by spoonful.

As he continued to feed her, their warm breaths intermingled, and the atmosphere turned somewhat subtle.

He looked at her lips, glistening from the bird’s nest, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and he leaned down to kiss her.

Once a man starts eating meat, he wants it every day.

And not the least bit tired of it.

Unbelievable!

...

The Sterling Manor, as dark as ink in the deep night.

Vivi Sterling turned over, unable to sleep.

At two in the morning, her mind was exceptionally clear, staring blankly under the dim glow of the nightlight.

Her thoughts were a tangled mess, like a ball of yarn played with by a cat, impossible to unravel, but at the end of the thread, there was the same name.

Hugh Whitman.

Suddenly, there was an extremely faint friction sound from the balcony.

Her heart tightened, and she quickly turned her head to look through the gap in the window blinds.

A tall shadow descended from the sky, landing firmly on the balcony with unnervingly agile movements.

Vivi Sterling gasped sharply and was just about to call for help.

That familiar figure had already slipped inside, closing the balcony door gently behind him, making almost no sound.

Vivi Sterling’s mind raced, and in a flash, she shut her eyes tightly, and her breathing slowed, feigning sleep.

Damn you, dog of a man.

He really dared to sneak into her room in the middle of the night.

She was curious to see what exactly he intended to do.

Everything quieted down, and she could sense his approaching footsteps, light and imbued with a unique scent.

Then, a warm, large hand gently rested on her rounded belly, through the thin silk pajamas.

The temperature of his palm on her skin brought a startling warmth, tenderly circling.

Vivi Sterling’s heart skipped a beat.

Instinctively, she moved slightly, shifting to the other side of the bed.

She felt the hand retract.

Just as she exhaled in relief, a warm touch came to her forehead.

A kiss.

Then to her cheek.

Finally, that warmth settled on her lips.

Enough!

Vivi Sterling’s eyes snapped open.

Their gazes met, and the air froze instantly.

Hugh Whitman’s pupils contracted violently, pulling away from her lips as if electrocuted, stumbling back two steps, his handsome face full of panic.

She... she wasn’t asleep?

Vivi Sterling propped herself up with her arms, slowly sat up, leaned against the headboard, crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze as cold as ice.

"Eldest Master Whitman, what do you want?"

Her voice was soft, but each word was clear.

"Climbing over walls and sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?"

Hugh Whitman’s Adam’s apple bobbed, momentarily at a loss for words.

He opened his mouth, suddenly blurting out.

"I came to see my child."

Vivi Sterling’s eyes widened, utterly incredulous,

"What do you mean your child? Hugh Whitman, have you no shame?"

She was almost amused by his nerve.

"Do these two children have anything to do with you?"

Hugh Whitman’s extraordinarily handsome face showed slight grievance.

"It’s only been three days, Eldest Miss Sterling, and you’ve already forgotten my life-saving grace?"

"I haven’t forgotten your life-saving grace." Vivi Sterling sneered, "But what does that have to do with the child?"

"Of course it does."

Hugh Whitman spoke earnestly.

"That day in the hospital, you personally said that after the birth, you’d give me one."

He took a step forward, his gaze fixed intensely on her belly.

"So, one of them is mine."

Vivi Sterling was rendered speechless.

Did he really take that joke seriously?

She took a deep breath, trying to reason, "They’re not born yet, what’s the rush?"

He suddenly laughed, his eyes like stars.

"I just wanted to do some prenatal education, start building a father-son bond early."

Vivi Sterling felt her blood pressure rising.

"He’s too young now; his ears aren’t fully developed, he can’t hear! What prenatal education?"

Pointing at her belly, she set boundaries.

"Anyway, you only get one! The other is mine, and doesn’t need your prenatal education!"

"That’s right."

Hugh Whitman nodded earnestly.

"So, I only touched the one on the left just now, the right one is yours, I didn’t touch it."

Vivi Sterling rolled her eyes, sneering, "How can you be sure the left one is the one I’m giving you?"

"Then should I touch the right one next time?" he tested.

"Hugh Whitman!"

Vivi Sterling grabbed a pillow beside her, ready to throw it.

"Don’t play dumb with me! Then why did you kiss me?"

He was candid.

"To build a connection with the children’s mother, make her both physically and mentally joyful, which also helps the fetus develop better."

He added,

"I only kissed the left cheek, which belongs to the mother of the child on the left."

"Nonsense!" Vivi Sterling exclaimed, "You clearly kissed my whole mouth! You’re just taking advantage of me!"

As soon as she finished, the casual smile on Hugh Whitman’s face suddenly vanished.

His handsome face darkened, and the light in his eyes dimmed.

"I’m sorry."

His voice was tinged with desolation.

"I thought... you really might give me one."

He pulled his lips into a self-deprecating smile.

"Forget it, if the Whitman Family has no heirs, then so be it; let me die alone."

He lowered his eyes, long lashes concealing his emotions.

"A useless man like me is just wasting the country’s resources."

The sudden change in demeanor left Vivi Sterling dumbstruck.

Was his carefree and unrestrained demeanor just an act?

Was there really such an insecure side underneath?

Seeing him on the verge of breaking, her anger inexplicably subsided, replaced by a trace of compassion.

She softened her tone, tentatively comforting him.

"You... you don’t have to be so upset."

"Your condition... can probably be treated, medical science is so advanced now."

Hugh Whitman suddenly took a step closer, seriously looking at her.

"But it feels nothing for any woman except you."

His tone was pleading and tentative, "Could you help me?"

He stepped closer to her.

Vivi Sterling was taken aback, he meant?

Scoundrel!