Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 206: Husband Sleeps With You Tonight

Chapter 206: Chapter 206: Husband Sleeps With You Tonight

Hugh’s body stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, his deep voice sounding above her head.

"Eldest Miss Sterling, are you really afraid of just a few stray cats outside?"

He paused and then slowly added, "But, if cats cry at night, the noise can sound like a child’s wail."

Vivi Sterling’s scalp tingled instantly, her face going pale.

He reached out, unemotionally prying open her tightly clasped hands from around his waist, saying, "I’ll have someone chase the cats away later; goodnight."

With that, he turned and walked away.

"No, I don’t want to stay here."

Seeing his tall figure about to disappear at the doorway, Vivi Sterling panicked and quickly rushed over, grabbing the hem of his clothes.

She raised her face, pitifully asking again.

"Hugh, can I stay in your room for just one night?"

Hugh stopped in his tracks and looked back at her, his eyes inscrutable.

"Are you sure? You won’t wake up tomorrow accusing me of forcing you, right?"

She shook her head like a rattle, "No! Absolutely not! I’m volunteering!"

"Let’s go." He turned, and an imperceptible smile emerged on his handsome, cold face.

Vivi Sterling followed behind gloomily, resigned to cross those two deadly long corridors once more.

After a few steps, Hugh suddenly turned back.

The next moment, she felt a lightness in her body as he lifted her horizontally up.

"You’re walking too slowly," he explained succinctly.

Vivi Sterling was startled for a moment, then gave up struggling.

A free ride shouldn’t be wasted, she wasn’t going to let her feet down.

Held steadily in his arms, she couldn’t help but look up, her gaze falling on his chiseled jawline.

How could he be so much like...

Oh, spit! Was she really losing it? Thinking about that again?

Back in the familiar room, he gently placed her onto the large bed, then retrieved a brand new quilt from the cupboard, laying it beside her.

"Go ahead and sleep."

With that, he went straight into the bathroom.

The sound of running water echoed, and Vivi Sterling, clutching the quilt, curled up at one side of the bed, her eyelids growing heavier until she fell asleep.

When Hugh emerged from his bath, what he saw was her curled up sleeping face.

He quietly got into bed, then reached out and pulled the quilt from her embrace, tossing it to the floor.

Immediately, he extended his arm and drew her soft, warm body into his embrace, covering them both with the same quilt.

He lowered his head, kissing her smooth forehead repeatedly, breathing in her sweet, pleasant post-shower scent.

How long had it been...

How long since he’d held her in his arms, sharing a bed?

The soft body he’d longed for was in his arms, and he had to desperately suppress the overwhelming urge threatening to consume him.

That night, he couldn’t sleep.

He wanted her too much.

...

In the presidential suite at the Fordham Hotel.

Aiden Fordham stood in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling window, a cigarette caught between his fingers, the scarlet flame flickering in the dimness.

Outside, countless homes were lit peacefully.

But inside, his heart was in turmoil, unable to find rest.

Over and over, the scene replayed in his mind.

Stella Grant’s forehead pressed against Andy Lockwood’s, she had cried, and that scene made him so jealous he was going mad.

Was Andy Lockwood so important to her, just because he had saved her before?

Or was there some secret between them?

The more Aiden Fordham thought about it, the more upset he grew.

After the party ended, his men were already stationed at the door.

Because Andy Lockwood had stolen D’s data, he had to pay a price. Today, he had to take him away.

Unexpectedly, Andy Lockwood had left through another side door and by now was already on a helicopter in the sky.

Fuming with rage and unable to vent, he watched helplessly as Andy left.

Later, he learned that Hugh had protected Andy, allowing him to leave through the side door to ensure the safety of all the Whitman guests attending tonight.

Just then, Stella Grant appeared, with Ethan Monroe by her side.

He suppressed his anger and approached, pulling her into his arms with one hand, squeezing her waist.

"Come back to the hotel with me," he said, as domineering as ever.

"Ah, it hurts." Stella Grant frowned.

Ethan Monroe immediately pulled his hand away, "President Fordham, let go, you’re hurting her."

Aiden Fordham was already furious, "Ethan Monroe, stay away from my wife."

"You’re not qualified to touch what belongs to me."

Ethan Monroe’s expression darkened, "Aiden Fordham, you were just luckier than me, meeting her earlier, but she’s not your plaything. Show her some respect."

His tone was provocative, almost inciting.

Plaything?

Aiden Fordham chuckled and threw a punch at the man.

Ethan Monroe staggered back two steps, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Stella Grant quickly stepped forward, "Young Master Monroe, are you okay?"

Aiden Fordham moved to strike again, but Stella Grant pulled him back.

"Aiden Fordham, haven’t you caused enough trouble?"

Without a word, Aiden Fordham grabbed her hand, tearing off the purple bracelet on her wrist.

With force, he smashed it.

"Bang!" Shattered into pieces.

"My woman doesn’t wear other people’s jewelry."

Stella Grant was stunned, while Ethan Monroe felt his heart sink, the purple shards stabbing at his eyes.

With a single look from Aiden Fordham, Keegan Lindsey stepped up immediately.

"Take note of the cost, and reimburse the Monroe Family tenfold."

"Yes, President Fordham."

"Aiden Fordham, you’ve gone too far," Ethan Monroe was angry, rushing at Aiden Fordham.

The two started exchanging blows, and just then Hugh appeared at the door.

"Brother!" Stella Grant suddenly called out toward Hugh.

That clear "Brother" was like a bolt of lightning, freezing everyone in place.

The ash on Hugh’s cigarette trembled, then he flicked it away.

His face unmistakably joyful, clearly elated by the term "Brother."

He quickly stepped forward, separating the two men.

"Stop," Hugh commanded with undeniable authority.

"Anyone who comes to my home is a guest of the Whitman Family, and no one can act recklessly in my presence."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across Aiden Fordham’s stormy face.

"Of course, once you leave my home’s gates, whether you fight to the death or go mad, I won’t interfere."

With that, he gave a signal.

A few black-clad bodyguards immediately stepped forward, escorting Ethan Monroe away.

Aiden Fordham’s fists clenched tightly, veins popping up on the back of his hands.

He stared intently at Stella Grant, his voice squeezed from his chest, both deep and enraged.

"Why are you protecting him?"

Stella Grant’s eyes darkened.

At this moment, she didn’t want to talk to him, simply saying coldly, "It’s late, you should go back."

"Come with me!" Aiden Fordham suddenly rushed forward, once more clutching her waist with alarming force.

"Ah..." Stella Grant cried out in pain.

Hugh reached over with one hand, sharply slapping away Aiden Fordham’s hand.

"Aiden Fordham, don’t hurt her."

Hugh Whitman shielded Stella Grant, his expression turning cold.

"She just returned, by rule, she must stay at the Whitman Residence for three days. You should go back."

Stella Grant said nothing, turned around, and walked away without looking back.

Leaving behind only a resolute silhouette.

Aiden Fordham stood in place, his chest heaving violently.

The scene replayed in his mind, making his excessively handsome face turn dark enough to drip water.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Keegan Lindsey knocked and came in.

"President Fordham, the person vanished, Roman Lynch hid, and the ones who tried to forcefully take your wife last time were likely arranged by him. But those we caught just took money to do the job, working in separate actions, seemingly not knowing who the mastermind is."

Aiden Fordham snorted coldly, "His caution only further proves there’s an issue."

He extinguished his cigarette and asked, "When is Grandpa arriving tomorrow?"

"Around noon, the special plane will arrive."

"Good." A glint of undeniable determination flashed in Aiden Fordham’s eyes.

He wanted Grandpa to personally propose, and the Whitman family’s daughter must have a grand wedding.

Therefore, he planned to give her a spectacular, grand century wedding, showing the world that Stella Grant only belongs to Aiden Fordham.

All he owed her in the past, he would repay doubly.

Ethan Monroe?

Trying to snatch her from him, no way! Andy Lockwood, even less qualified.

Unexpectedly, before he could wake fully, the Monroe Family grabbed the chance first.

Early the following morning, a series of urgent knocks broke the morning’s tranquility.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The heavy and urgent knocking felt like a hammer striking the heart.

Hugh Whitman was the first to open his eyes, his deep eyes regaining clarity in the dim light.

In his arms, Vivi Sterling moved, fully awakened by the sound.

Vivi Sterling opened her eyes groggily, first seeing the distinct jawline close by.

Further down, the rolling Adam’s apple, and a solid, warm chest.

Her brain froze for three seconds.

What was going on?

How had she ended up like a koala bear, clinging tightly to Hugh Whitman and sleeping together?

Clearly last night they had separate beds and distinct boundaries.

Outside, Mrs. Whitman’s urgent voice called, with an undeniable urgency.

"Hugh, Hugh are you awake? The Monroe Family is here, get up quickly."

Vivi Sterling was so frightened she stiffened and curled up completely.

Hugh Whitman’s deep voice sounded above her head, carrying the raspiness of just waking up, first responding to the person outside.

"Okay."

Then he lowered his head, his warm breath brushing her ear, his voice low, with a soothing implication.

"Don’t worry, no one can come in, I’ve locked the door."

Locked the door?!

Was that supposed to be something to boast about?!

Vivi Sterling glared at him, wanting to kick him off the bed.

She used both hands and feet to climb out of his embrace, frantic like a frightened rabbit.

The silk robe on her body, unaware of when it had mostly undone, with her movement, the collar opened, leaving a dazzling sight.

The air instantly solidified.

Hugh Whitman’s eye color visibly deepened, like an ink-filled deep pool.

His Adam’s apple rolled up and down uncontrollably, the action clear and full of aggression.

Vivi Sterling’s face burned with a "boom," blood rushing to her head.

Terrified, she hurriedly pulled her clothes tight, rushing into the bathroom.

With a heavy "bang," the door slammed shut.

...

Downstairs, in front of the Whitman family’s main residence, a row of black luxury cars slowly stopped, exuding an extraordinary aura.

The Monroe Family had grandly visited early in the morning.

Leading the group, the Monroe Family’s steward held a box made of sandalwood, his expression respectful and serious.

Inside the box, an aged marriage certificate.

On it, handwriting from twenty years ago written by the patriarchs of the Monroe and Whitman families.

The scene was simply explosive.

The atmosphere was slightly delicate on-site.

In the living room sat Monroe Family’s patriarch Zane Monroe, Mrs. Monroe, and their son Ethan Monroe.

Indeed, they were there for Sierra Whitman.

The Eldest Miss Sterling was surprisingly the stunning world-class God N, such a prized bride, the Monroe Family couldn’t wait to officially seal, claiming her.

Thus, today they brought the marriage document the old patriarch personally arranged back then, coming directly to the door.

Abel Whitman had gone to work, Mrs. Whitman accompanying in conversation.

Her voice gentle, her demeanor composed, but not missing a beat while subtly deflecting the Monroe Family.

While seemingly promising everything, upon careful thought, she hadn’t committed to anything.

Ethan Monroe couldn’t sit still, he looked at Mrs. Whitman, his gaze earnest.

"Mrs. Whitman, please give me a chance, I will definitely treat Sierra well."

"I’ve already waited for her for eighteen years, my feelings are the same as yours, not wanting to lose her again."

Mrs. Whitman nodded, lifting the teacup, gently blowing the steam.

"I understand your feelings."

"However, Sierra has just returned, and is not familiar with the environment. I will try to have her stay longer in The Imperial Capital, you let the young people interact more, there will always be a chance."

Just then, a voice full of undeniable dominance echoed from the doorway.

"Unexpectedly, someone is already thinking about my wife early in the morning."

Aiden Fordham strode in, he wore a tailored black suit, each step carried a powerful aura.

Behind him, followed Keegan Lindsey, also in a suit.

Mrs. Whitman’s heart jumped.

Oh dear, the rightful owner encountered.

Yet she remained calm outwardly, immediately standing up, "President Fordham is here too, come sit. Someone, serve tea."

Aiden Fordham walked to the sofa but didn’t sit, just smiled.

"Mrs. Whitman, no need for formalities, we’re family, just treat the guests well."

His eyes swept across the living room, then turned to Mrs. Whitman, his tone naturally assertive.

"Is Stella awake?"

Mrs. Whitman hesitated for a moment, then reacted, "Probably woke up, the servant went to call earlier."

At that moment, a slender figure appeared at the staircase.

Stella Grant, just woken up, her hair slightly messy, saw the crowd downstairs and her heart twisted, instinctively wanting to retreat.

Too late.

She could only brace herself and head down.

Mrs. Whitman’s heart leaped with joy, immediately waving her over.

"Sierra, you’re up, come say hello to Uncle Monroe and Aunt Monroe."

Stella Grant walked over, barely steady on her feet before a tall figure swiftly stepped forward, extending a long arm to pull her into an embrace.

Aiden Fordham looked down at her, his voice gentle enough to squeeze water from.

"Why are your dark circles so big? Is it because you can’t sleep well in a new environment?"

"No worries, tonight, your husband will stay with you."

The remark froze the atmosphere in the entire living room.

Everyone was momentarily petrified.

Ethan Monroe’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

Keegan Lindsey stood behind Aiden Fordham, inwardly pleased: nicely done! Goal scored!