The Ford mansion.
Guinevere had just gotten the report. She turned each page slowly, scrutinizing each and every word.
They really were two different people. But how was that possible? It was indeed an outcome that she had hoped for, but it was all too outlandish. But still, everything had been spelled out in black and white, in the report in front of her, so it had to be true.
Guinevere sighed in relief. Thank goodness she wasnât that woman. Thank goodness Ella Steele was just Ella Steele after all.
As long as she wasnât Stella Sealey, she would pose no threat to her. She was just a woman who looked like Stella, that was all. Nothing to be worried about.
âWhat are you doing?â Weston asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere just as she sighed.
Guinevereâs heart skipped a beat but she managed to stay calm and show no emotions. âNothing,â she replied, getting up and pretending to be tidying up the desk. âI was just reading my scripts.â
Weston usually showed no interest in her work, but as luck would have it, he seemed curious today and started walking towards her. As his footsteps approached, the tension in Guinevereâs body rose.
She swiftly hid the report under a stack of paper, but Weston was already standing behind her.
âHas the filming started?â he asked.
Guinevere nodded.
âThe investors and the producers are having a discussion about the script so I might as well do some preparations myself since I have nothing else to do anyway.â
Guinevere had a good reputation in the entertainment industry, and it was a reputation that didnât come from nowhere.
Weston said nothing, but his gaze moved from Guinevereâs face to the stack of paper on the desk.
âZackâs awake,â he said, before turning around and leaving the room.
Guinevereâs countenance darkened as she watched Weston walk away. After sitting in silence for a while, she finally followed him out of the room. Before she closed the door, she glanced at the report on the desk one last time.
In the living room downstairs, Zack was crying noisily. Perhaps he had caught a cold last night when he was outside and had gotten ill â his temperature was still quite high even after some medication.
The nanny had tried everything but he still wouldnât stop crying. Even Wendy couldnât sleep because of the noiseâshe carried Zack in her arms and paced around the living room trying to calm him down.
âYou two!â she barked the moment she saw Weston and Guinevere. âYour son has been crying all night and youâve done absolutely nothing! How could you be so calm and do nothing about it! Have you forgotten that youâre his parents?â
A wave of shame and regret flashed across Guinevereâs face.
âHere,â she said as she rushed up towards Wendy. âLet me take him.â
But just as Wendy handed Zack over to Guinevere, the boy bawled even louder, as if unwilling to part with Wendy. Guinevere looked embarrassed and didnât know what to do.
Seeing this, Wendy frowned and impatiently said, âGive him to me!â
The moment Zack was in Wendyâs arms, his wailing instantly subsided. Guinevere could do nothing but watch them silently on the side, though her mind was fraught with complicated feelings. âDid you get the doctor?â Weston asked as he walked toward Wendy.
âOf course I did!â Wendy replied. âThe doctor said heâs caught a cold. Kids are like this whenever theyâre sick, so thereâs nothing to worry about.â Weston nodded and said nothing more. As Zackâs crying had now almost completely stopped, Wendy quickly handed him to Weston.
âDonât you want to try?â she asked.
Weston very rarely ever carried Zack. Although he did take the time out to see him frequently, he remained aloof and distant from the child overall.
Having nothing to do, the nanny suddenly said, âWould you look at that! Heâs stopped crying the minute heâs in his fatherâs arms! Say, he really does look a lot like Mr. Ford, doesnât he?â
Those words pleased Guinevere to no end.