Ben stared at Stella in confusion. He hadn’t expected her to ask anything of him. A moment later, realization struck him. “Mr. Sealey has agreed to Mr. Ford’s suggestion. He will change his name and move to another city with you. Mr. Ford will also cover all of his medical bills from now on, including a compensation fee for you,” he explained, giving her a sum that seemed reasonable.
The corner of Stella’s mouth twitched. The amount was enough to make her the wealthiest person in a small town.
“Since Roger has agreed, we’ll go with that,” she said, her voice flat. She closed her eyes, only to open them abruptly again. “There’s one person I’d like to see.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“The culprit who kidnapped me that day.”
Ben fell silent, a conflict apparent in his eyes.
Stella couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “What? Are you afraid that I’ll try to manipulate things again, scheme against Guinevere?”
She understood all too well that Weston wouldn’t believe her. No one would. No matter how many times she said it, that Guinevere had hired the kidnappers, people would just think she was delusional.
Ben quickly replied, “I didn’t mean that. I just need to get Mr. Ford’s opinion on this.”
Stella closed her eyes again. “Okay, go ahead then.”
Inside Weston’s office, he put down the document he had been reading. “She really said that?” he asked, his voice low.
Ben stood before the desk, looking down at the floor. “Ms. Sealey has agreed. So, it seems like she wants to see you.”
Weston didn’t respond immediately. He stared at the tip of his pen, which had just left a dark streak across the page. The intensity in his eyes didn’t dissipate, like the ink on the paper.
After a moment, he spoke hoarsely, “I thought she wouldn’t want to see me.”
He had visited Stella once, not long after she had woken up. Back then, she had been emotionally disturbed, screaming in the ward that she never wanted to see him again. Weston had paused in his steps, unsure of what to do, before ultimately leaving. He’d gone back a few times after that, but always when she was asleep.
Now, hearing Ben’s report, he was dazed for a moment. Ben, sensing the man’s hesitation, ventured, “Mr. Ford, should I tell Ms. Sealey that you’re busy with work?”
“No.” Weston stood up, grabbing the suit jacket draped over the back of his chair. “Let’s go now.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Ben hesitated for a moment. He had a meeting scheduled for later and Ms. Cohen had made an appointment to meet with him in the afternoon. But looking at Weston’s determined expression, Ben decided to remain silent and simply followed him.
The hospital corridor was quiet, save for the occasional doctor or nurse passing by. It was a private facility, known for its confidentiality. Weston was the investor here, and no one would know that Stella had stayed in this hospital.
Weston sat on a bench, tilting his head back to lean against the wall. The collar of his shirt was undone, and there was a faint scratch mark on his face, though it didn’t look particularly damaging. Instead, it made him appear even more disheveled, like he didn’t care.
Ben didn’t appear until quite some time had passed. He looked apologetically at Weston, who had his eyes closed in rest. “Mr. Ford, I didn’t think Ms. Sealey meant it that way…” he started. He had assumed that Stella wanted to have a proper conversation with Weston. He hadn’t expected her to still harbor so much resentment toward him.
Weston covered his eyes with the back of his hand and said nothing.
When Ben finally spoke, Weston removed his hand from his face. “How is she?”
Ben stepped forward. “She’s calmed down. Mr. Ford… shall we take care of that wound on your face?”
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