Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 214: So, He’s Not the Child’s Father

Chapter 214: Chapter 214: So, He’s Not the Child’s Father

Pervert!

Vivi Sterling’s face turned bright red, and she threw a pillow over.

"Hugh, get out of here now, don’t act like a pervert."

Hugh Whitman gave her a deep look, turned around, opened the door, and slipped away like the wind.

Vivi suddenly felt something was wrong. How could she just let him escape?

Oh no, now she felt even less like sleeping.

...

The next day.

Hugh stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of the top office, a cigarette between his fingers, smoke swirling before his eyes.

Outside the window was the bustling view of the entire city of Meritopia, in full view.

Not bad.

This was Grandeur Investments, a company under his name, an absolute giant in the financial world, renowned globally.

Speaking of it, this was the empire he built back then with Tyson Sterling.

Later, a mission came from the top, and they both went to Mardale.

He had always been a hands-off kind of boss; the company had a professional team of managers, so he rarely got involved.

For the past two years, it was Tyson who handled everything in Mardale.

He stayed behind to look after the Sterling Family and, incidentally, keep an eye on this company.

And Tyson, well, he was in Mardale, wearing his mask, living under the identity of "Zane Zimmerman."

Hugh’s thoughts drifted back to two years ago.

It was the first time he met Vivi Sterling.

And the first time he witnessed how explosive that woman’s temper was.

That night, Abraham Grant was holding a woman with a trendy face in the bar’s booth, being lovey-dovey.

Vivi arrived.

Her eyes swept over the two of them, without saying a word, she sat alone at the bar.

One drink after another, she drank until her eyes were red.

Later, she saw him and stumbled over, without a word, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him directly.

Then, she yanked his tie, dragging him over to Abraham Grant.

"See that?"

"Taller than you, more handsome, and definitely better in bed!"

"I, Vivi Sterling, would rather be a dog in my next life than marry you, Abraham Grant!"

As soon as she finished speaking, she completely passed out in his arms.

He sent her back to the Sterling Family’s doorstep.

From that moment, he became interested in this woman.

Tyson’s sister was truly something else.

The second time he saw her was at the "Incredible" boxing gym, a name that seemed destined to bring incredible things.

That day, he was filling in for a junior as a boxer, just for fun.

Unexpectedly, he saw Vivi Sterling standing in the No. 1 private room, in a stunning red strap dress, breathtakingly beautiful.

She was shouting out, "Number 17! Go, Number 17, go!"

His junior was indeed good-looking, so she was probably there for the eye candy.

That day, she gave him something for the first time.

It was a piece of tissue folded into the shape of a heart, with a bright red lipstick mark on it.

He accepted it.

The following week, he went to fight again.

Unexpectedly, she was still there.

After that, she consistently came to support him every week, come rain or shine.

But she never threw money at the stage like those other rich women.

She said it was an insult to the boxers.

Later, he simply bought the boxing gym and sent the handsome junior away.

Then, he rightfully became Number 17.

By day, he sat in the top office of Grandeur Investments, strategizing and managing.

Every Wednesday evening, he’d go to the boxing gym to "earn some extra money."

Lately, she tossed him a towel with a little blue floral cat on it, telling him to use it to wipe his sweat.

He picked it up as well.

Until one time, she personally came to the backstage to find him.

She stood in front of him, her eyes shining brilliantly, and spoke a single sentence.

"Five million, go to Mardale with me."

Hence, he had no choice but to rush back to Mardale overnight, assuming the identity of Zane Zimmerman in the battlefield once again.

Unexpectedly, on her first day in Mardale, she got kidnapped, and he repeatedly rescued her from danger...

Later, he could clearly feel her intense affection, and so, he couldn’t help but want her.

Therefore, during their time in Mardale, he spoiled her endlessly.

Until she got pregnant and returned to the country.

He finally applied to return to the Imperial Capital, to resume his identity as Hugh Whitman, intending to re-enter her life.

To be with her, a lifetime together.

Hugh turned around and went behind his desk.

He reached out and pulled open the middle drawer.

Inside, it was filled with tissues folded into heart shapes.

Each one had a unique lipstick mark.

Invaluable.

Irreplaceable.

...

Fordham Group, top floor, President’s office.

Dean Warner personally delivered a report in a manila envelope to the Fordham Group.

Keegan Lindsey respectfully took it and knocked on the president’s office door.

"Come in."

The man’s voice was deep, carrying a subtle hint of fatigue.

Keegan pushed the door open and placed the envelope on the large ebony desk.

"President Fordham, delivered personally by Dean Warner."

Aiden Fordham lifted his head, his gaze moving from the computer screen to the thin report.

With just one glance, his breath caught.

He couldn’t wait to tear open the seal and pulled out a sheet of paper.

His fingers turned white from the effort.

His eyes skimmed over it rapidly, finally locking onto the conclusion.

[Excludes biological relation].

Boom.

The world seemed to fall silent.

Aiden’s handsome face turned ashen in an instant.

As expected.

Stella Grant’s unborn child wasn’t his.

His face turned pale, feeling a void where his heart was, brutally torn apart by an invisible hand, bleeding.

That light piece of paper now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

He clenched his hand fiercely, crushing the report into a ball, and threw it heavily onto the thick carpet.

He walked to the window, lit a cigarette, and took a heavy drag, but couldn’t suppress the anger in his heart.

How could it be?

How could it not be his?

Could it be that she really conceived a child with Andy Lockwood?

Aiden’s mind was a chaotic mess, filled with countless images quickly flashing by.

Suddenly, the scene from the recognition banquet day vividly appeared.

Andy Lockwood.

The red diamond he gave Stella, shaped into a Peace Lock.

He didn’t know what Andy told her that day, but she cried...

Suddenly, he recalled something his mother mentioned yesterday by chance.

"I hope this Peace Lock ensures the safety of both."

Safe of both.

So, Andy knew about her pregnancy long ago.

Even before he, the legitimate husband, knew.

Why?

A monumental question mark seared his heart like a branding iron.

Why!

"Knock, knock, knock."

Keegan knocked and entered, carrying a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

Immediately upon entering, he sensed the frigid pressure in the office.

President Fordham’s expression was at its ugliest.

Keegan’s gaze involuntarily fell onto the ball of paper on the floor.

He cautiously walked over, bent down, and picked it up.

With just one glance, Keegan’s hand trembled, nearly dropping it.

This is bad.

He felt like the entire world was collapsing.

The child Mrs. Grant carried was truly not President Fordham’s.

How could this be?

It’s absolutely impossible.

"President Fordham..."

Keegan’s voice was trembling.

"I think there’s definitely something wrong with this report; it’s absolutely mistaken somewhere."

"Otherwise, I’ll accompany Mrs. Lockwood to get it tested again at another hospital."

"Get out."

Aiden Fordham’s voice seemed to be squeezed out from deep within his throat, hoarse and icy.

"Aiden..."

"I told you to get out!"

He suddenly turned his head, his eyes bloodshot, resembling a trapped beast pushed to the brink, issuing an angry roar.

Keegan Lindsey, frightened, shuddered, abandoning his coffee, turned around and slipped out quickly.

The door closed, and Keegan leaned against the wall, his heart still pounding violently.

He kept muttering to himself.

Impossible.

This is absolutely impossible.

Mrs. Fordham loves President Fordham so much, how could she be pregnant with someone else’s child?

There must be a mistake somewhere.

The office was as silent as death.

After a long time, long enough for the air to solidify.

Aiden Fordham slowly took out his phone, his fingertips pausing on the screen for a long time, finally dialed a number.

As soon as the call connected, he spoke, his voice devoid of warmth.

"Bring me some things."

He couldn’t let her give birth to someone else’s baby.

So, this child could not stay.

...

At night, the car headlights pierced through the darkness of The Sovereign Estate.

Aiden Fordham had returned.

Stella Grant dashed from the living room like a joyful butterfly, but as soon as she approached, she sensed the cold hostility surrounding his body.

His handsome face showed no expression, yet his eyes were filled with ice.

"What’s wrong?" She stood on tiptoe to see his face, "Who upset our President Fordham?"

"A bit tired."

Aiden Fordham’s voice was low and hoarse, bypassing her, heading straight for the sofa.

Stella Grant obediently followed, watching as he sat tiredly on the sofa, rubbing his temples.

She felt pity, gently said, "Let me give you a massage."

Only one crystal lamp with a warm yellow light was lit in the hall, its gentle glow adding warmth.

Her fingers were soft, gently resting on his temples with just the right amount of pressure.

Aiden Fordham’s tense muscles seemed to relax a bit.

But the next moment, he suddenly grabbed her hand.

With great force, squeezing her wrist painfully.

He opened his eyes, in those deep eyes was a cold indifference and scrutiny she couldn’t understand.

"On the day of the recognition banquet, what did Andy Lockwood say to you?"

She was stunned.

Why suddenly ask about this?

"He didn’t say much," she answered honestly, "he just... wished me happiness."

After hearing this, Aiden Fordham’s lips curved a bit, yet there was no hint of a smile, only mockery.

He released her hand, making it clear that he didn’t believe her.

He stood up, looking down at her with superiority.

"Let’s eat."

The voice was icily cold.

At the dining table, the atmosphere was so oppressive it was suffocating.

Stella Grant uneasily observed the man across from her, feeling something was off.

Today’s him was too temperamental, a world apart from the man who held her and whispered sweet words yesterday.

He hardly spoke, as if hiding an iceberg within.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

The ringtone was unusually jarring in the silent dining room.

He got up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window to answer the call.

When he returned, the coldness in his eyes had intensified.

"You eat first, I have to go out for a while."

After speaking, he picked up his suit jacket and left without a backward glance.

Leaving Stella Grant alone with a table of gradually cooling dishes.

She had completely lost her appetite, sensing something bad was about to happen.

...

When Aiden Fordham returned, it was already late at night.

Stella Grant hadn’t slept deeply; as soon as she heard the sound of the lock turning, she woke up.

The heavy smell of alcohol filled the air.

Aiden Fordham didn’t turn on the light, walked directly into the bathroom, and soon the sound of water could be heard.

After showering, he brought only the fresh scent of shower gel back to bed.

He lay down, but didn’t pull her into his embrace tightly as he used to.

He just lay flat, like a lifeless puppet.

Stella Grant wasn’t asleep.

In the dark, she quietly moved closer, snuggling into his arms like a kitten.

He extended his hand, embracing her naturally.

Yet that embrace lacked the warmth and affection it once had, merely a mechanical gesture.

Not a single kiss was given to her all night.

The next day, when Stella Grant woke up, the space beside her was already empty.

After washing up, just as she came out of the bathroom, she saw Aiden Fordham walking in.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored home outfit, making him appear even taller and more slender, yet in his hands, he carried a bowl of dark medicine.

"It’s a blood-nourishing soup prescribed by the doctor," he said plainly, placing the bowl in front of her. "Drink it on an empty stomach, then go downstairs for breakfast."

Stella Grant didn’t take the bowl.

She reached out, hugged his sturdy waist, burying her face in his warm chest, like a wronged little animal, gently nuzzling.

"Husband, why are you unhappy?"

Her voice was muffled, tinged with nasal sound.

"Will you tell me? I can help share the burden."

Her tenderness and dependence were like a dagger, making his heart ache even more.

His body stiffened, coldly pulling her hand away.

"Drink the soup first."

Stella Grant felt aggrieved, but obediently picked up the bowl of herbal soup.

As she was about to drink, an unusual smell hit her nose.

Faint, yet clear.

It’s safflower, peach kernel!

Her hand paused, heart sinking abruptly.

"I’m hungry," she suddenly lifted her head, flashing him a smile, "I want to eat breakfast first before drinking this, otherwise... I’ll feel nauseous."

After speaking, she took the bowl of medicine and headed downstairs.

When Aiden Fordham went downstairs, this was the scene that greeted him.

Stella Grant sat in the middle of the living room sofa, her small figure exuding an indescribable aura of oppression.

The steward stood respectfully nearby, and a young servant knelt before her, trembling like a fallen leaf in the autumn wind.

She had directly summoned the servant who prepared the medicine for questioning.

She was very cautious now, determined not to let the miscarriage happen again.

"Speak."

Stella Grant’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it was cold.

"Who told you to add those ingredients? Who is the person behind this?"

The servant’s lips trembled in fear, crying as she kowtowed.

"Please have mercy, Madam, I really don’t know! I merely followed the usual process, didn’t add anything else, truly didn’t."

"Release her," Aiden Fordham’s voice came cold and biting from the stairway.

"Everyone, get out."

The steward, as if granted amnesty, hurriedly pulled the weeping servant away.

The living room was instantly left with just the two of them.

Stella Grant stood up, turning around, her clear eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

She used all her strength to make her voice sound less broken.

"Aiden Fordham, did you instruct people to add those herbs?"

"Is it you who doesn’t want this child?"

Aiden Fordham didn’t answer.

He merely watched her in silence.

That silence was the most cruel affirmation.

Stella Grant felt all strength drain from her body, stumbled.

Her voice shattered completely, resonating with despair.

"Aiden Fordham, why... why would you do this to him?"

"You clearly promised me, you said you’d at least wait until week twenty-two... why would you do this!"

Aiden Fordham finally spoke, his voice cold as ice, each word striking her heart.

"Because, you’re not carrying my child."

He laid it bare.

"It is Andy Lockwood’s child."

A loud boom.

Stella Grant’s mind went completely blank.