Guinevere had always waited for Weston to come back to her, to realize that she was the one he needed. But she never expected to see him with another woman. Even more shocking was the fact that he had married someone else, and it was all happening while she was carrying his child.
The regret gnawed at her every day. If only she had told Weston sooner that she was pregnant—perhaps things would have turned out differently.
Lucas and Weston were deep in business discussions, their conversation focused on Henry’s condition. Yvonne, who had no interest in hospitals or medical jargon, seized the opportunity to pull Stella away.
“They’re talking about Henry again. I don’t understand a thing they’re saying. It’s so boring,” Yvonne complained, her voice light. Stella followed behind her, but a name caught her attention.
“Henry… Henry Moore?” Stella asked, curiosity piqued.
Yvonne nodded. “You don’t know him. He’s a good friend of Weston’s. Also close with Guinevere. The three of them grew up together, and both Weston and Henry liked Guinevere at one point. But she only had eyes for Weston, and after that, Henry ended up with someone else…” She paused, a puzzled look crossing her face. “I don’t get it. If Guinevere already has Weston’s child, why doesn’t he just marry her?”
A flicker of something flashed in Stella’s eyes. “I have no idea. Maybe he will, soon.” She wasn’t sure why Weston and Guinevere weren’t married yet, especially since it seemed so clear that they were meant to be together. If Weston cared for her so deeply, why didn’t he just secure their future?
“Maybe,” Yvonne said casually, then shifted topics abruptly. “Oh, and remember when I said I wanted to introduce you to someone? There’s a great guy I know who’s still single. Would you be interested in meeting him?”
Stella couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden change of subject. “I’m not exactly in the right mindset to think about relationships right now…”
Yvonne tugged on her arm, trying to convince her. “You’re single, right? You don’t need to rush into anything, but getting to know more people can be fun. You work all the time, it’s suffocating just watching you.”
Stella shook her head firmly. “I’m not interested in men right now. I just want to focus on my work.”
Yvonne didn’t seem deterred. “Why are you saying things like that at your age? Work is important, of course, but you can’t just bury yourself in it. Women need to enjoy life, too.”
Her words were almost endless until Lucas called out from the study. Yvonne excused herself to check on him, telling Stella, “I’ll go see what’s going on. Feel free to look around. I’ll have someone take you back later.”
Stella nodded, watching Yvonne leave for the study before heading toward the courtyard. The fresh night air felt soothing, and it helped clear her mind. She inhaled deeply, walking slowly to gather her thoughts.
But just as she took a few steps, she felt a sudden, strong tug on her arm. Before she could react, a powerful force pulled her into a corner.
Her eyes widened as she looked up, meeting a pair of dark, intense eyes. The air around her thickened with his presence, his overwhelming scent filling her senses.
Stella instinctively pushed him away, her body brimming with resistance. “Mr. Ford, what do you want?”
Weston narrowed his eyes at her, a faint hint of reluctance in her gaze making his grip on her chin tighten. He lifted her face to look at him. “Are you here on purpose to see me?”
Stella was taken aback, almost amused by his question. She sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I wouldn’t dare. Mr. Ford, you’ve made it clear that you don’t want me anywhere near you. If that’s the case, I’m certainly not going to seek you out.”
His fingers tightened around her arm, and his expression darkened. The intensity of his gaze deepened, leaving her feeling both trapped and unsettled.
Stella could barely breathe under the pressure of his silent stare. It was as if his gaze alone was enough to crush her resolve.
Her discomfort was palpable. She furrowed her brows and tried to turn away. “Mr. Ford, please. If you have something to say, say it. It’s inappropriate for us to be alone like this. Besides, Mr. Ford, you have a wife and a…” Her words trailed off as she tried to pull herself together.
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