Hugh Whitman stood beside Stella Grant, his deep voice slowly rising as he revealed the long-buried past.
"Back then, it was a political rival of the Whitman Family that stole you away."
"In the first two years after losing you, Mother cried every day until she went blind. It took five whole years to cure her eyes."
"Later, she stopped crying and sent everyone she could to search for you, but it was like searching for a needle in the ocean. She donated over 430 orphanages nationwide, always hoping that maybe one child there would be you, just so you could be well-fed and clothed."
"It wasn’t until a few months ago, when she visited the Borrin Orphanage to see the children, that she heard from an old man about a caregiver nad Helen Warren, who eighteen years ago picked up a six-year-old girl..."
He narrated everything, and Stella Grant was already sobbing uncontrollably.
The resentnt she thought was abandonnt, the loneliness of growing up alone, were shattered at this mont.
Finally, Hugh Whitman reached out his hand and gently embraced her trembling shoulder.
"Tonight is all about you, after all. Did you see the garden full of lilies? And the Ariel Crown sent by Aiden Fordham, all prepared for the Whitman Family’s little princess."
"If you were to leave now, it would be such a pity."
"The elders are all waiting inside; they only want to see you doing well. Whether or not you wish to return to the Whitman Family in the future, we will always be your support, and I will always be your brother."
These words made Stella Grant completely break down.
She leaned on Hugh Whitman’s shoulder, crying like a child.
Vivi Sterling ca over, took her from Hugh’s embrace, and hugged her tightly again.
"Alright, alright, don’t cry anymore. You shouldn’t be crying now; don’t get too emotional."
Her words made Hugh Whitman more certain of his earlier suspicion.
She patted Stella Grant’s back, then looked up and glared at Hugh Whitman, her tone fierce.
"We’re just playing along with their act, all this talk of Whitman Family princesses and high-society feuds, just treat it like a big imrsive murder mystery play. The world may be drunk, but I alone remain sober, alright?"
She looked at Hugh Whitman again and shouted.
"Why are you still standing there? And why aren’t you taking her upstairs to get ready? Are you so poor that you haven’t even prepared a new dress?"
Hugh Whitman looked at her puffed-up expression and suddenly laughed.
"Of course, it’s all been prepared a long ti ago."
And so, under his leadership, the group ascended quietly through another side door.
In the dark garden, a pair of sharp eyes kept a close watch on Stella Grant’s disappearing direction.
Twenty minutes later.
All eyes in the room were almost glued to the carved spiral staircase on the second floor.
When Hugh Whitman appeared with a transford Stella Grant in everyone’s sight, the frenzy in the banquet hall instantly hit the pause button.
Silence.
A pin-drop could be heard.
She wore a haute couture golden off-shoulder gown, the dress tightly wrapped around her graceful curves, every inch perfectly tailored.
The golden fabric was adorned with dense sequins, refracting dazzling light with her every move.
The gown’s golden tassels flowed like molten gold, gently moving with her steps, swaying elegantly, cascading down.
It was a kind of extre, aggressive beauty.
A beauty that made hearts tremble, leaving one speechless.
She wore no other jewelry, yet she was already incomparable in value because tonight there was still a segnt to add the finishing touches.
The young bachelors attending could each personally offer her a gift, and as long as she did not oppose, they would all be considered suitable candidates for the Whitman Family.
She just walked arm in arm with Hugh Whitman, step by step, gracefully descending the staircase.
Her expression was cool, yet it radiated an indescribable nobility.
Her exquisitely stunning face bore a striking resemblance to Hugh Whitman’s handso profile.
The crowd’s minds buzzed.
This is the real deal!
This is the true Eldest Miss Whitman of the Whitman Family!
Among the crowd, Aiden Fordham stood at the foot of the stairs in an evening suit, his deep eyes focused solely on her.
To him, she was his whole world.
He slightly raised his head, his deep eyes surging with emotions so intense they couldn’t disperse.
Focused, affectionate.
It seed like he had waited centuries for his princess to finally arrive at his castle.
Beside him, Keegan Lindsey held a velvet box, within it lay the Ariel Crown that symbolized eternal true love.
Under the dazzling crystal chandelier, the light fell like scattered diamonds.
Stella Grant stepped down the icy steps one by one.
Her figure, amidst the radiant light, looked like a goddess walking out of a painting.
When she reached him, the air in the banquet hall seed to freeze.
Aiden Fordham carefully took the crown and placed it on her head personally.
Then he gently kissed her lips, as tenderly as a feather.
The jewels on the crown were instantly ignited by the lights, shining brightly.
At that mont, she seed to beco the most noble woman in the world.
"Damn, that’s the Ariel Crown. Did I see that right? I heard it’s a treasured possession of the F-Country royal family, and it got bought by Magnate Fordham. That’s rich."
"So beautiful, the Eldest Miss Whitman wearing the crown is even more stunning than a fairy tale princess. This trip was really worth it."
The exclamations and discussions among the guests surged like a tide.
Aiden Fordham seed impervious, he only looked at her, his eyes almost overflowing with deep affection.
"Stella, thank fate for bringing you to ."
His voice was deep and raspy, with a barely noticeable tremor.
"We have been through the darkest of tis, it was you who pulled back from the depths ti and again."
"You saved not just my life, but the aning of being alive."
The ti he owed her beca an imprint on his heart, each breath carrying a dull pain.
"Now, standing here, I have only one thought, which is to spend every minute and second remaining to love you, care for you, and protect you."
"My world was once pitch black, but you brought the first ray of dawn. I hope to shield you from future thorns, and make up for past regrets throughout my life."
His confession carried no hesitation, each word struck the hearts of everyone, moving all the ladies present to tears.
"This crown is not just a gift, but a sacred contract. I hope to exchange it for every dawn and dusk with you for the rest of my life."
He knelt on one knee, looking up at her, as devout as a believer.
"Would you be willing to walk with always?"
Stella Grant gazed at him, her vision blurred by tears.
On that stunningly handso face, was written nervousness and vulnerability that she couldn’t understand.
She wanted to nod, but her throat seed blocked, unable to utter any sound.
At this mont, her heart was struggling fiercely.
Aiden Fordham saw her hesitation, and the brief silence gripped his heart tightly.
He knew those past cracks were too deep, so deep that even spending a lifeti might never fully repair them.
"Stella."
He urgently grasped her hand, his palm scorching, carrying a bit of dampness.
He gripped her tightly, as if letting go would make her vanish.
Just then, a cold voice pierced through the noisy banquet hall.
"President Fordham, now that your confession is over, you can’t monopolize the Eldest Miss Whitman all by yourself, should give others a chance too."
Everyone’s eyes turned towards the source of the voice, their hearts skipping a beat, curious to see which daring man would challenge Magnate Fordham.
Out stepped a handso and suave Ethan Monroe from the crowd.
Behind him, his assistant reverently held an exquisite velvet box.
Aiden Fordham’s heart tightened abruptly. He stood up, his eyes filled with a burning fury directed at the man.
He dared to co and take her away?
Ethan Monroe stopped in front of Stella, his passionate gaze firmly locked on her, his voice gentle enough to wring water.
"Sierra, I’m your Brother Shane, do you rember?"
"I said that when you grew up, I would marry you as my bride."
"You were lost for eighteen years, I waited for you eighteen years, searched for you eighteen years, missed the best eighteen years of your life."
"Until today, with your return, my world has finally restored its colors."
Ethan Monroe’s gaze was as gentle as spring waters, yet it held an undeniable firmness.
"I hope for a chance to walk by your side, filling those eighteen years of blank canvas with future colors, stroke by stroke."
His voice was not loud, but clearly reached everyone’s ears, carrying a soothing power.
"I don’t want to miss any more important monts of your life, nor let my world remain only in monochro."
"Sierra, let walk into your world once more, will you?"
As he finished, his long fingers gently opened the velvet box the assistant held.
A translucent purple bracelet lay quietly inside. Under the light, the bracelet seed to hold flowing galaxies, its brilliance restrained, yet its value undeniably imnse.
His gaze never left Stella’s face.
"This is the coming-of-age gift I prepared for you, though it’s years late, I finally waited it out."
"It’s also my grandmother’s dying wish, that I would personally place it on you."
"It isn’t a promise, nor a shackle, just a blessing."
"In the days ahead, as long as you are safe and sound, I will be content."
These words lacked Aiden Fordham’s fiery intensity, yet felt like a warm current quietly flowing into the hearts of everyone present.
"Oh my God, so Young Master Monroe was single all along, waiting for the Eldest Miss Whitman."
"This is true childhood sweethearts, a lover indeed."
"There’s always been an engagent between the Monroe and Whitman Families; isn’t this what’s rightful?"
"But Magnate Fordham’s confession was so touching too, that crown signifies true love, I’m siding with Magnate Fordham."
"Only children make choices, I want both ships, what do I do!"
Voices rose again, this ti divided into two distinct factions.
Stella’s eyes reddened further, tears misting, making the two n before her blur.
She knew of the engagent between the Monroe and Whitman Families. In her mind, the image of a little boy holding her hand, saying he would marry her in a childish voice, beca extraordinarily vivid.
Ethan Monroe didn’t give her more ti to hesitate, his warm fingertips gently clasped her hand.
Her wrist, slender, with skin so fair it was nearly translucent.
He slowly slipped the cool purple jade bracelet onto her wrist.
The size was not too big nor too small, just right.
The mont the bracelet touched her skin, a cool sensation spread through her veins, strangely calming her frantic heartbeat sowhat.
He lowered his head, warm lips lightly resting on the back of her hand.
A restrained yet precious kiss.
Stella’s heart jolted violently. She reflexively withdrew her hand, only managing to say two words.
"Thank you."
Those two light words fell like heavy hamrs, striking Aiden Fordham’s heart hard.
Aiden Fordham’s face turned completely sullen, the surrounding pressure dropping to a terrifying low, deep dark eyes churning with a storm that could destroy everything.
He glared intently at Ethan Monroe’s lips on the back of Stella’s hand, then at the glaring purple on her wrist.
This man dared to touch his woman, right in front of him?
He lifted a leg wanting to step forward, tear that reckless man to shreds.
But his feet seed nailed to the spot, unable to move.
This was her mont to return, her spotlighted highlight; he couldn’t destroy it all.
He couldn’t.
Yet the anger at having his territory infringed upon surged almost uncontrollably through him.
He could only watch, as that man gently etched his mark on her.
But it wasn’t over yet.
As everyone speculated about whether the Eldest Miss Whitman would choose the magnate or Young Master Monroe, a deep magnetic call erged from the crowd.
"Stella."
The voice wasn’t loud, but held a certain magic that quieted the room instantly.
A strikingly handso man, in a tailored black suit, walked out confidently from the crowd.
His aura was powerful yet restrained, each step seeming to tread on the crowd’s hearts.
Guests were once again astounded, who would’ve thought the night would peak again, with yet another daring to confront both the magnate and Young Master Monroe.
"That’s... the head of The Lockwood Group from F-Country, President Lockwood!"
Soone in the crowd recognized him and drew a sharp breath.
"Wow, he’s even more handso in person than in finance magazines. That aura, easily matching the prince, definitely equals Magnate Fordham."
When Stella saw him, her pupils contracted sharply, her body uncontrollably trembling slightly.
While Aiden Fordham’s face had turned so dark it seed it could drip water.
Andy Lockwood!
He dared co too.
Fine, let him co and leave empty-handed.
The Whitman and Monroe Families were equally surprised to see Andy Lockwood, astonishnt written all over their faces.
The Lockwood Group’s status in the international dical sphere is paramount, truly a leading power, they hadn’t expected the legendary figure to appear in person.
His real appearance was indeed outstandingly handso.
Andy Lockwood walked with long strides up the stage, finally stopping before her.
In fact, when he heard that Aiden Fordham spared no expense to secure the Ariel Crown and sent it to The Imperial Capital, he guessed her true identity.
Today was her important day.
He had to co.
Andy Lockwood slowly spoke, his voice warm and charming, like a cello’s strings flowing through the night.
"I said that when one day you find your family, I would surely co back with you."
"I’m sorry I’m late."
Stella’s eyes reddened, she had no idea this would be their last eting in this life...
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