A rush of naless fire, mixed with agitation, surged instantly to his heart.
He practically ground his teeth as he dialed Keegan Lindsey’s number again, his voice low and icy:
"Find my wife, imdiately! Right now! Bring her to see !"
After hanging up, Aiden Fordham tamped down the irritation in his chest and turned, preparing to walk back into the crowd.
However, after just two steps, he noticed sothing off about the atmosphere on the deck.
The guests who had previously been scattered around, admiring the fireworks, were now all crowding in the sa direction, chattering away, as if witnessing so kind of major incident.
"What’s going on?"
"Looks like the Sterling Family’s eldest Miss and Best Actress Kensington are having a fight!"
"No way! At an event like this?"
Aiden’s heart skipped a beat. He hurried his pace, pushing through the crowd.
There, at the center of the commotion, Vivi Sterling stood face to face with Corinne Kensington, her expression twisted in fury.
The atmosphere was tense enough to snap, positively explosive.
"Smack!"
A crisp, sharp sound cut through all the noise.
Right after, Vivi Sterling jabbed a finger in the air, flinging dozens of photographs skyward like a flurry of snow, scattered ruthlessly as they drifted down.
The photos revealed Corinne Kensington and Abraham Grant in intimate poses, bodies close, almost glued together; Corinne was practically pressed against Abraham.
Though any sharp-eyed observer could see many of these photos were taken from tricky angles, clearly set up to look "misplaced."
But in this chaos, they were more than enough to ignite everyone’s gossip nerve endings.
"Isn’t this Best Actress Kensington supposed to be President Fordham’s fiancée? Why is she mixed up with Second Master Grant?"
"Co on, this is the Fordham Family’s big event—Corinne Kensington is seriously brave."
The crowd erupted into snide whispers.
Vivi Sterling’s voice cut through, sharp and venomous, her anger and contempt too glaring to hide:
"Corinne Kensington, do you have any sha left? Look at where you are! This is the Fordham Family’s anniversary banquet! Do you even realize what kind of trash you are, to try and seduce my man?"
Corinne Kensington was visibly flustered, rushing to explain:
"Miss Sterling, you’ve got it wrong! I was just talking to Young Master Grant about a brand endorsent, nothing like what the photos suggest."
Vivi let out a cold laugh, then stepped up and slapped Corinne hard and loud, leaving her utterly stunned.
Five distinct red marks quickly blood across Corinne’s pale cheek.
"Everyone in ritopia knows Abraham Grant is my fiancé. Right in front of all these people, you dare openly flirt with him? What, you think the Sterling Family is easy to ss with? You think you can just ignore ?"
Corinne was terrified, tears instantly welling up, clutching her face and shaking her head desperately.
"No! Miss Sterling, please listen! I have no feelings for Young Master Grant!"
Frantic, she glanced all around, hoping soone would step in—but all she got back were stares, curious, scornful, and outright gleeful.
"We... we were just talking about work! I swear!"
Her words tumbled out desperately, her voice trembling.
Right now, she couldn’t defend herself at all; those photos were ironclad, nailing her to the pillar of humiliation.
Suddenly, she rushed up to Abraham Grant, grabbing his arm like she’d found a lifeline.
"Young Master Grant, please explain to Miss Sterling! There’s nothing between us! We were only talking business, right? Please, say sothing!"
Abraham Grant’s own expression was ugly; he frowned and shook off Corinne’s hand, his tone cold and detached.
"Vivi, quit making a scene. Everyone’s watching."
Vivi moved right up to him, scarlet eyes flashing, sneering:
"Abraham Grant! Even now, you’re still protecting her?"
Abraham Grant: "..."
"I really didn’t expect you little celebrities to go so low for a lousy endorsent, seducing the brand rep? Where’s your professionalism? Your morals? Did the dogs eat them all?"
Every word from Vivi was a dagger, stabbing straight into Corinne’s heart—echoing in the ears of everyone around.
Corinne finally broke down, her hair a tangled ss, cheeks flushed and swollen, tears streaming with humiliation—utterly miserable.
Right now, she was everyone’s target; her manager was nowhere, and her family background powerless.
She’d beco the hottest scandal at this lavish party—a live, public "social death."
The bystanders’ whispers grew louder.
"Tsk tsk, I an really—the Best Actress needs this kind of trick to make money...?"
"Can’t judge a book by its cover. She’s really going all out for a few resources, huh?"
"Sterling Family’s eldest daughter’s temper is next-level—she just went straight in!"
"Now there’s a show. Wonder what Young Master Fordham is going to do next..."
"Enough!"
An icy voice rang out, its powerful aura silencing the buzz in an instant.
It was Aiden Fordham.
Aiden’s face was so dark, it seed water could drip off it.
He looked at the chaos unfolding before him, at Corinne Kensington, crying and utterly degraded—his rage, barely contained.
But before he could act, an even more authoritative voice rose.
"All of you, stop!"
Steven Fordham had appeared at so point, his face grave as his steady gaze swept across the room.
The guests all hushed at once, barely daring to breathe.
He nodded politely at the onlookers, his tone mild but carry an unmistakable authority:
"Ladies and gentlen, apologies for the spectacle. Just a small misunderstanding—sorry to ruin the mood."
Then, without sparing a single glance toward Corinne, he signaled the bodyguards behind him and said sternly:
"Escort Miss Kensington to shore."
"Yes, Chairman!"
Two burly n stepped forward, ignoring Corinne’s struggles and sobs as they dragged her forcefully out of the crowd.
"I won’t go! Let go! Aiden! Help ! I didn’t..."
Corinne’s voice faded, disappearing from the guests’ sight.
Steven Fordham turned to the crowd once more, his composed smile back in place, as if nothing had happened.
"Just a minor incident. Carry on, everyone—the fireworks show isn’t over yet."
Although Steven handled things smoothly and decisively, the trouble obviously couldn’t be cald that easily.
Everyone kept whispering about the explosive scene, trying to guess the truth and what would happen next.
"Aiden, help to the lounge."
This last line from Steven was a clear move to keep Aiden from chasing after Corinne.
Aiden clenched his fists tightly, veins straining across his knuckles.
Still, he stepped up to support his grandfather back toward the cabin.
Suddenly, he staggered a bit, feeling faint and weak—almost tipsy.
"What’s wrong?"
Steven noticed sothing was off right away!
Clearly, that woman had set him up—but thankfully, he’d anticipated it.
"I’m fine, Grandpa," Aiden forced out, struggling to sound normal.
Right then, Keegan rushed over, hurrying to steady his boss.
Steven looked at him and ordered sternly, "Take Young Master to the V8 cabin to rest. Have the young lady tend to him."
"Yes, sir."
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