Joan sighed, wondering if he could really be with Guinevere.
Stella knew Joan was not asleep yet, so she came out of the room wrapped in a woolen shawl. ââ¦
You should go and get some rest. Itâs getting late now.â
âMrs. Ford?â
Joan looked at the frail figure in front of her and couldnât help but comfort her, saying, âIâm sure Mr. Ford i s held up by something urgent right now. Once heâs dealt with everything, Iâm sure heâll come home. Donâ
t you worry about it. Iâll wait for him here. You can go inside and get some restâ¦â
122 âIâm not waiting for him anymore,â Stella shook her head. âYou should go and get some rest too.â
She smiled and added, âHeâs probably by Guinevereâs side.â
After all, their son had just died. As Zacharyâs father, it was only natural that he would be with the childâs
mother right now. Stella had nothing against that.
âMrs. Fordâ¦â The more she acted that way, the more Joan felt bad for her. âIâm certain Mr. Ford will com e home once heâs dealt with everything out there.â
Stellaâs eyebrows drooped. She closed her eyes.
It no longer mattered to her whether he came home or not.
The awsul weather late at nighit made going out to sea unsuitable.
Ben stood on the deck as the waves violently rocked the boat. He glanced around and turned to Weston, saying,â It looks like it might rain soon, Mr. Ford.â Weston stood tall and firm at the front deck. His eyes w ere as dark as the surface of the nocturnal sea, dotted with faint starlight. The aura around his body was
frosty enough to condense the air, but his voice was eerily calm when he said, âThis matter must be resol ved before dawn.â
Whether Roger was alive or dead, they had to get to the bottom of this.
Ben nodded.
âWe never expected things to ever come to this, Mr. Ford â¦â Ben explained apologetically.
He rarely ever fumbled in the tasks Weston assigned him, and although what had happened was due to f actors that were out of his control, he still blamed himself for being incompetent, ultimately leading to We ston having to clean up all the mess himself.
But now that the ship had sailed, it was no longer the time to look for someone to blame.
âMake sure that Stella docsnât know about this for now,â Weston raised his wrist and glanced at the time.â
Negotiate with those people over at the delta. Do what you can to bring him back.â
âYes, Mr. Ford.â
Ben noticed his visibly somber face and couldnât help commenting, âWho wouldâve thought that heâd be s o similar to Mrs. Ford? Theyâre both just so headstrongâ¦â
They had finally managed to rescue Roger from those dangerous people over at the delta. However, not
only was Roger not grateful, he even insisted on treating Weston like an enemy.
Not only that, but he even went so far asâ¦
Ben sighed again.
TIL Weston turned around , his eyes dark as the night. Like the vast endless sea, dangerous turbulence hid behind their ostensibly calm surface. Th Joan couldnât fall asleep no matter how hard she tried. She had been raring to give Weston another call, b Even Stella was probably asleep by now, so why shouldnât she just wait till the next morning to talk to him? That was what she thought, but Weston might be spending time alone with Guinevere Cohen right now at such a late hour. What if something happened? She could hardly be blamed for worrying over this because it was plain for everyone to see th Zacharyâs death must have caused them indescribable pain, which presented an excellent opportunity for This would be the perfect fuel to reignite old flames, and once that spark was lit, no one could contain the Just as her thoughts ran wild, she suddenly heard the gate opening downstairs. The creaking noise distinc âCould that be Mr. Ford coming home?â Joan sprang up to her feet.
The black Maybach slowly pulled into the driveway as the gate opened. When Weston stepped out of the car, he noticed Joan waiting for him at the elevator door.
âYouâre still awake?â he shot her a glance and frowned.