Chapter 1077Chapter 1077 Under the dim lights, Weston‘s car had been parked there for a long time and still hadn‘t
moved.
His eyes were as dark and inscrutable as the pitch–black night. He had gone through the test report over
and over again, but the results were still the same. He still could not find a difference from what he had
read before.
He covered his eyes with the back of his hand to block the harsh light from the elevator entrance. The
look in his eyes was colder than winter frost.
He then suddenly stepped on the gas pedal, and the car lurched away, like an arrow shot from a bow. He
wanted to rush back to Stardust Mansion. He wanted to question Stella.
She actually wanted to kill him.
How ironic.
But once the monstrous rage had simmered down, he suddenly didn‘t feel like seeing her anymore. He
was afraid that the moment they met, he would not be able to stop himself from strangling her to death. ‘
He kept changing routes. He had initially planned to call Joan, but he kept his phone on silent and
headed straight toward the sanatorium Henry Moore was at without
sending her a word.
Henry had been discharged from the sanatorium a while ago, but because of Angelina Thompson, he
had to return.
Weston found his room with ease. When he pushed the door open, he saw a familiar woman leaning on
Henry‘s bed, asleep. Henry lay on the bed with a book in hand, quietly flipping through the pages. The
whole scene looked peaceful and harmonious.
Hearing the door open, Henry looked up and raised his brows when he saw Weston standing there.
“What an honor,” he stated with a smile. “I thought you‘d be too busy to go anywhere these days. Who
would‘ve thought you’d spare some time to visit me?”
Weston shot him a quick glance and gestured at Angelina with a jerk of his chin.
Without saying a word, Henry quickly understood what Weston meant.
“She insisted on coming to take care of me,” he explained. Weston snickered before finding himself a
place to sit beside Henry and settling down. He then closed his eyes to rest for a while.
But the snicker just now really hit Henry‘s nerves.
“What was that supposed to mean?” he demanded. “You don‘t believe me, do you?” He then put his book down and continued, “This woman finally left me alone,
but the Stella Sealey conundrum happened, and she’s returned again. She‘s been pestering me day in
and day out, trying to get some information
from me... trying to find out how Stella Sealey is doing right now...”
Weston finally opened his eyes when he heard Stella‘s name. He glanced at the sleeping woman
nonchalantly and commented, “It seems she‘s surrounded by friends who really care a lot about her...”
“What‘s wrong?” Henry teased him. “Don‘t tell me you‘re jealous of them?”
Angelina slept on, completely oblivious that news about Stella that she was so desperate to hear about
was discussed in front of her.
Weston massaged his brows, looking extremely exhausted.
“I don‘t want to talk about her today.”
Henry turned to him with a scrutinizing gaze and asked, “ Are you guys having a row?”
Weston said nothing.
It prompted Henry to observe him even more closely now. “The rumors can‘t be true, can they? That
woman didn‘t
actually kill your son, did she?”
He then continued, “Tsk tsk. The jealousy of a woman really is such a terrifying thing.”
Angelina was suddenly roused from her sleep, probably because Henry‘s voice was too loud. She got up
and rubbed her eyes lazily before asking, “What time is it?” Henry looked at her indifferently and madeno attempt to answer her question. Angelina was already used to such cold treatment from him, so she
just yawned and looked up when a handsome and familiar face greeted her. She froze for a moment –
She thought she was still dreaming.
So it was true that the things that occupied your mind the most during the day would appear in your
dreams. Angelina had been talking about Weston Ford non–stop during the day, and seeing him in her
dream surprised her.
She rubbed her eyes again and again, suddenly feeling like something was wrong. Why did this dream
feel so real?
“You‘re not dreaming,” she heard a cold voice coming from above her head say. “He really is right in front
of you. You can ask him anything you like.”
It was only then that she suddenly reacted.
“Mr. Ford!” she cried.
She sprang to her feet and frantically asked, “What are you doing here? How is Stella right now? Are the
rumors true? I heard Guinevere Cohen and her family, along with Mr. Warren Ford, are determined to
bring Stella to justice. People on the internet are saying that things are looking really bad for her right
now. Is that true? If it is, then what will happen to her? Will she go to jail?” Previous Chapter
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