CHAPTER 112: CHAPTER 112: HE ACTUALLY STOLE A KISS AT MIDNIGHT

Indeed, the person on the bed is surrounded by infrared sensors, invisible without his night vision goggles.

He quickly locates the infrared emitter, uses a knife to unscrew it, and soon, the infrared on her left side disappears.

Standing by the bed, his eyes greedily trace her sleeping face.

This face, imagined countless times in his mind, is elegant yet stubborn, but sleeping, she resembles a child.

His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, dry and raspy; the tenderness in his eyes is almost overflowing.

He reaches out, fingertips trembling slightly, gently brushing aside a strand of hair by her cheek.

The hair is soft, carrying her unique fragrance.

Then, he bends down, placing a cherished kiss gently on her forehead.

The warmth of the touch makes his heart tremble.

"Woo—woo—woo—!"

Suddenly! A piercing alarm echoes throughout the villa, almost shattering eardrums! The sound comes from downstairs, as if someone triggered the infrared! In this room, red lights flash rapidly, dazzling the eyes!

Stella Grant suddenly opens her eyes, pupils contracting from shock...

The man in black swiftly hides in the curtains, indeed, she isn’t safe, there are other intruders.

The door abruptly opens, another man in black rushes in, directly pouncing towards Stella’s bed.

"Ah!" Stella jumps off the bed in fright, trips, her whole body falling backward.

As the man closes in, another figure flips out from behind the curtains, holding the soft figure in one arm, spinning elegantly, a blade precisely stabs the black hand, then he raises a long leg and kicks forcefully.

The man grunts in pain, clutching the stabbed hand, kicked away two meters.

"Let go of me!" Stella struggles fiercely, at this moment, she is held by another man in black. This man wears an eye mask, tall, with a lingering scent of tulips on him, coming from the garden.

Are the men in front and these two from different factions?

Unexpectedly, the man lowers his head, precisely kisses her lips, making a strong ’pop’ sound!

Stella’s mind explodes with a "buzz," utterly blank.

The man in black watching this bold move clearly hesitates, somewhat at a loss, was this part of the plan?

The door is kicked open again, three security personnel rush in, directly engaging with the other man in black.

The black shadow holding Stella swiftly crosses the balcony, leaps down, vanishing into the vast night.

After a while, the man in black in the room is captured, lights illuminate, Stella’s face is somewhat pale, still in shock.

"Stella, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Tom Summers quickly steps forward, holding her shoulders, rapidly checking her body.

"I... I’m fine." Stella is somewhat bewildered, the impact just now was too great.

Tom assumes she’s scared, "Sorry, it was my negligence at work. I’ll guard outside the door for a while, you can sleep peacefully."

He checks the infrared device, then says puzzled, "How did one get broken?"

Soon, he tightens the loose screw and closes the door.

Stella stares wide-eyed, sleep far from her mind, thinking about that strange man in black, is there a flower thief in Rookstone? She shivers...

Night, heavy.

Tonight’s starlight is unusually bright, each star seemingly ready to fall.

Aiden Fordham holds a glass of red wine, the crimson liquid gently swaying inside the glass. Standing by the window, his tall back facing the room, gaze directed towards the endless dark sea outside.

The sea breeze blows, carrying a salty humidity, yet cannot disperse the heaviness between his brows, unreadable whether joy or sorrow in his eyes.

Keegan Lindsey walks quietly closer, barely daring to breathe, testingly asks, "President Fordham, did you... see the madam?"

Aiden doesn’t turn around, his voice cold, like ice.

"Keep Seraphina close, guard Villa 13." After a pause, he adds, "Tonight, someone broke in."

Keegan’s heart races.

Aiden clenches the wine glass, the recent thrilling scene flashing through his mind, heart still tight. If he hadn’t been there... the consequences unimaginable.

She might get hurt!

This thought fills him with coldness, this isolated town, what’s the use of being cut off from the world, peace still elusive.

He must quickly get her out of here.

Must!

Keegan hurriedly bows, "Yes, President Fordham, I’ll arrange it immediately."

Unable to resist asking further, he lowers his voice, "Then... did madam recognize you?"

Aiden finally turns around slowly, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the moonlight.

He shakes his head, expression inscrutable.

Keegan’s eyes dart, clearing his throat, he continues, "President Fordham, in a couple of days it’s the Harvest Festival here. I’ve gathered, it’s quite a day!"

His excitement rising with his speech, "I’ve heard, all the single men and women in town will attend a grand masquerade ball that day!

"Not only that, people declare love to their beloved at the ball! In the end, everyone releases sky lanterns to make wishes!"

Keegan rubs his hands, wearing a "praise me" expression, "President Fordham, imagine, such a beautiful occasion, if you declare to madam... it will certainly yield unexpected results."

Aiden finally reacts.

"Oh."

He slightly raises his eyebrows, tone lifted, with some scrutiny, some teasing, and just steadily looks at Keegan.

Keegan Lindsey felt a chill under Aiden Fordham’s gaze, his back suddenly cool.

He abruptly remembered the last time with that global broadcast confession... What a disaster it turned out to be. The scene was like a social embarrassment in its prime.

The Mrs. Fordham almost got confessed away!

Thinking about it, Keegan straightened his chest, a look of determination on his face, "President Fordham! This time, this time I guarantee with my reputation! Absolutely foolproof!"

He gritted his teeth, resolute: "If it fails again... I, I volunteer to transfer to Mardale!"

The corner of Aiden Fordham’s mouth twitched, half-smiling, his voice low but chilling.

"Why waste a plane ticket, just toss you in to feed the fish, wouldn’t that be simpler?"

Keegan: "..."

He wanted to take back his words!

The next day.

The sun was dazzlingly bright.

Stella Grant’s mood lifted as she and Tom Summers strolled through the local market, bustling with people.

Various colorful local crafts were on display, and the air was filled with the fragrant aromas of diverse cuisines, making one’s mouth water.

"Wow, Thorne, look at this! So cute!" Stella Grant picked up a handmade trinket, her eyes glimmering.

Tom Summers walked beside her, a gentle smile on his face, occasionally responding.

Not far away, a tall figure moved like a ghost behind them, a man wearing a baseball cap, deliberately hiding his extraordinary looks.

When Aiden Fordham saw Stella Grant smiling brightly at that young man, chatting and enjoying themselves, the pleasant atmosphere stung his eyes, and his temperature dropped sharply.

How long had it been since she smiled at him like that?

An inexplicable anger flared up, igniting him instantly.

He cast a sharp glance.

In the crowd, Seraphina received the signal, subtly detached from the shadows, and walked directly towards Tom Summers and Stella Grant.

Her steps were light, appearing like a regular tourist.

At the moment she brushed past Tom Summers—

"Oh!" Seraphina suddenly exclaimed, her body went limp, falling straight towards Tom Summers.

Tom Summers reacted swiftly, instinctively reaching out to support her.

"Miss, are you okay?" he asked with concern.

Seraphina looked pale, sweat beads forming on her forehead, clutching her chest in a delicate manner.

Her voice weak, stuttering, "I... I feel dizzy... My heart... my heart is beating so fast..."

She lifted her teary eyes, looking piteously at Tom Summers: "Can you... can you take me to the hospital?"

Tom Summers furrowed his brows slightly, Stella Grant also looked at Seraphina with some concern, "Are you alright? Is it serious?"

She said to Tom Summers, "You should take this young lady to the hospital, don’t delay. I’m fine, I’ll just wander around the next street, you can come find me after you’re done."

Tom Summers nodded: "Alright, be careful then."

He took out his phone, swiftly dialed a number, quietly giving instructions, likely arranging new security personnel to take over.

After doing all this, he cautiously supported the "feeble" Seraphina, slowly leaving the bustling market.

Stella Grant watched them walk away, then continued her stroll.

Supporting Seraphina, Tom Summers had just reached a secluded corner when suddenly Seraphina, who seemed weak seconds ago, showed a fierce expression and moved as fast as lightning.

Her elbow retracted, precisely aiming a punch at the back of Tom Summers’ neck!

"Thump!"

Tom Summers managed to utter a vague: "You..." before everything went black, instantly fainting.

Seraphina stabilized his tall body, dragging him to a nearby bench, carefully arranging him in a comfortable position, making him look as if he had fallen asleep from exhaustion.

After finishing, she patted her hands, glanced at the unconscious Tom Summers, a trace of disdain on her lips.

"With such poor skills, you think you can protect others?"

"Pathetic!"

She murmured a comment, turned around, and her figure swiftly vanished at the street corner.

Stella Grant strolled leisurely, gently lifting her head, eyes closed, inhaling the sweet aroma in the air.

Following the scent, she entered a flower shop, and when she emerged, she held a bouquet of purple flowers, vivid and striking.

She curled her lips, a small, satisfied smile.

Aiden Fordham stood not far away, watching her, her joyful little appearance tugged at his heart like a kitten pawing. Itchy! He wanted to rush forward, wanted to pull her into his arms and hugged her tightly!

He tried hard to restrain himself, his hand subconsciously clenched, his gaze so intense it could pierce through stone. His long legs stood straight, like a rooted pine, just watching her, motionless.

Suddenly.

On the third-floor balcony of an old building nearby, two children were playing noisily, pushing and shoving, laughter sharp.

At the edge of the balcony, two flower pots shook violently, teetering with soil, about to fall.

Soon, they were about to hit Stella Grant’s head.

But she remained clueless, lowering her head to smell the purple flowers in her hands, her lips still curved in a smile.

Danger, close at hand! The flower pot suddenly tipped and plummeted...