My Fabulous Girl Boss

hapter 982 Guinevere originally intended to prevent Stella from getting closer to Zack by building a stronger bond with him. But if she were perfectly honest, she had to admit that she never nearly had the patience to deal with Zack herself.

Thus, the best solution was to let Wendy take Zack.

Hearing Guinevere's suggestion, Wendy frowned, looked at her derisively, and jeered, "Didn't you tell Father that you wanted to spend more time with Zack so you two could bond? So what happened? Don't you want to get closer to your son now that Stella is not here?" Guinevere turned deathly pale. She hung her head low and said nothing, not knowing how to explain herself.

Seeing that, Chris turned to Wendy with some discontent and scolded,” Why do you keep embarrassing her like that? You're not young anymore, you know..." He'd been bringing up her age a lot lately.

"Fine!" Wendy glowered at him. "Just think of me as a nosy old woman! Just continue with whatever you were doing, and don't mind me!" As she finished speaking, she turned on her heels and left.

Zack became anxious when he saw his granny ignoring him. He stomped his legs and tried to follow Wendy, shouting, "Granny! Granny!" Wendy, however, pretended not to hear him and quickened her pace.

Chris then had no choice but to tell Guinevere, "You better take Zack out for a while..." “I know,” replied Guinevere. Then she shrewdly suggested, "You should go after Aunt Wendy now." Chris took a long and deep look at Guinevere but said nothing before turning around and chasing after Wendy.

In no time, Chris managed to catch up with Wendy in the back garden.

"Come on, Wendy. We're an old couple now. Why do you still get mad over the most trivial things?" There was some helplessness in his tone, and he had deliberately put on a gentler and calmer demeanor for her.

But Wendy no longer fell for such acts. She coldly pulled her hand away and said, "Guinevere is still over there. Why don't you be with her?" "You speak as if..." Chris muttered before patiently coaxing his wife. "Even though Weston has completely broken off his relationship with Guinevere, she's still Zack's mother. Isn't it completely normal that I'd care for my grandson's mother? Why would you even be jealous of her?" "She's still Zack's mother after all,” he added, "so from now on, stop taking Stella's side and embarrassing her..." "Stella is my real daughter-in-law," Wendy interrupted bluntly. "And she was my goddaughter before that. Why should | take anyone's side but hers?" "Well..." Chris smiled and added, "If they can get married, then they can get divorced. Having a child together, though, is not the same. Besides, you know how much Father likes Zack..." "Oh yes," Wendy blurted out, "his father certainly likes him very much." 1 Wendy suddenly gave him a meaningful look.

Chris's heart skipped a beat when he saw her like that, fearing she had somehow seen through him from his expressions, but he quickly suppressed his suspicions. "If you have something to say, then spit it! If you don't like me getting so close to Guinevere, I'l keep my distance from her!" He did indeed feel a little sympathy and affection for Guinevere. It was also true that every time he saw Zack, a barrage of complex feelings would surge in his heart.

But all these were merely regular instinctive reactions.

What concerned him the most, however, was the fact that Weston was no longer with Guinevere, which meant she might regain her memories about the incident...

If that were to happen, everything he had now would collapse into ruins.

Chris had long grown past the age where feelings and passion meant everything. Although he often got tired of Wendy's antics, he knew very well that there was no way he could leave her.

The corners of Wendy's lips twitched, and she smiled thinly, neither approving nor disapproving of Chris’ suggestion.

But Chris knew she was still somewhat angry at him, so he added, "I'l take you downstairs to greet the guests later." "No," she shook her head. "You go ahead. I'm a little tired. I'm going back to the room." "Why are you always tired these days?" asked Chris with concern. "Is your heart feeling alright?" As age caught on, Wendy was diagnosed with heart disease. It was the main reason why Chris was adamant about not letting Weston reveal the truth to Wendy after the incident, lest it might be too much of a shock for her to handle.

But as time passed, the concern Chris had for her gradually waned hapter 983 Things had come to a point where Chris completely neglected her health problems. For instance, the last time Wendy went for a medical checkup, he didn't even ask her any questions about it at all.

The realization made Chris feel a litle guilty.

"I've been busy lately," he told Wendy, "so | didn't have much time to take care of you. | promise things will be different from now." "What exactly have you been busy doing?" Wendy sneered. "Weston has been in charge of the company all this time. In fact, | can't think of a ime when you've been busy lately!" Chris was left flustered with his lies so mercilessly exposed.

"When did you become so mean?!" he snapped.

The fact that he could never be as talented as Weston had always been his sore spot, and Wendy had so bluntly set it on fire.

"I was only concerned about your health," he said, still feeling a little humiliated, "yet here you are, always so eager to put me down!" "Why don't you just go back to Guinevere and take care of her?" Wendy scoffed in frustration, turning away from him.

"Why are you always so boorish?" countered Chris, his face turning cold.

"That's right," replied Wendy, "I'm boorish, I'm old, and I'm always moody! Why don't you just go to a younger girl who will say sweet things to you all day?!" After speaking, she turned around and left right away.

Chris was too angry to chase her, so he turned in the opposite direction and left.

Once again, they were fighting.

Chris intended to make up to her, but for some unknown reason, he felt she held some resentment toward him. He had asked her about it, but she wouldn't say anything. So now, he was left all alone to entertain the guests, despite planning to do it as a couple.

Wendy didn’t know where to go herself. Zack was with Guinevere, so she did not need her to take care of him. She watched the party in full swing, suddenly feeling like an outsider.

She heaved a long sigh. Aimlessly, she headed towards Stella's room and knocked on the door.

"Stella!" she called out. "Are you in there?" A sharp noise came from inside the room. Wendy frowned and waited.

After a long while, she finally heard Stella's voice saying, "Give me a minute! I'll be right there!" Wendy stood there waiting a long time before Stella finally opened the door.

"Mom..." she uttered.

Wendy's brows knitted, sensing that something was wrong.

"What were you doing in there?" she asked.

"Nothing," Stella shook her head. "I was just taking a nap. | had to put on some clothes, so it took me a while to open the door." She turned to make way for Wendy and offered, "Why don't you come in?" Wendy did not refuse and went inside.

Stella and Weston stayed in a suite on the third floor of the massive Ford Mansion that was full of rooms. The suite was, in fact, the same room they had both used the last time they were there.

Weston was obsessed with cleanliness, and he didn't like to stay in rooms that others had stayed in before, which was why the suite had always been his.

Because the suite was so vast, it also came with its own balcony and living room.

As soon as she came in, the first thing Wendy noticed was the array of potted plants on the balcony.

"Do you like those kinds of things?" she asked, a little surprised.

"Dr. Taylor gifted me a snowrose plant,” Stella explained with a smile. "I thought it looked so pretty that | started to get interested in potted plants." Wendy swept a glance at the plants, and her eyes honed in on one of them “Isn't that...?" Stella furtively blocked Wendy's sight and interjected, ‘They're all bonsai. If you like, | can pick something easy to take care of and give it to you." Wendy's expressions turned complicated. After a while, she turned her gaze from the plants and stared at Stella.

She knew what oleander looked like. She also knew that oleanders were extremely poisonous.

She was, however, unsure if Stella knew all of that too.

hapter 984 Stella appeared calm and composed, but her back was soaked with cold sweat.

"Mom?" she asked while resolutely putting on a calm facade, perhaps because she was hiding something. "What's wrong?" "Nothing..." answered Wendy with a shake of her head. Stella's voice brought her senses back.

Sure that Stella must've not known about how poisonous the oleanders were, she tried to warn her.

"That plant over there..." Crash! Before she could finish, a loud noise coming from the window interrupted her.

The two women jumped in fright. They hurried to where the noise came from and saw a black figure crashing into the room from outside. The window had been broken in, and the floor was littered with shards of shattered glass- carefull” Stella's split-second response managed to stop Wendy from getting hit by the flying glass.

Wendy was so spooked that her face turned white as a sheet. She stood motionless and stared at the figure lying on the floor.

‘What... What on earth is going on here...?" she asked in a daze.

There was a gaping hole in the windowpane that brought a biting chill into the room as a gust of wind blew in.

As soon as Stella regained her senses, she quickly called out for the bodyguards.

"I think he's one of the workers outside," she told Wendy, trying to calm her down. "He probably fell in accidentally.” Stella noticed that the person wore a work uniform while holding a wrench, so she assumed he must be one of the maintenance workers.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

The man moved slightly and groaned before answering. "I'm... I'm so sorry N He slowly propped himself up, revealing his large plump face.

"I'm here to repair the air conditioner,” he explained. "I was installing an overhead unit when | slipped and fell. | was only hanging on a steel wire, and | had no choice but to break the glass window and lunge in...” The man went on to apologize profusely. There were still bloodstains on his face from being cut by the glass. He picked up his peaked cap on the floor with shaking hands, all the while apologizing.

Seeing this, Wendy frowned but finally calmed down.

‘That's enough..." she said, but before she could continue, she had to catch a breath when she felt a sharp pain in her heart.

Stella noticed that the man was swaying slightly as he stood, so she asked in a gentle voice, "Are you hurt?" "No, no..." The man waved his hands, still looking terrified.

"I'm fine..." he reassured her. "| really didn't mean to break in through the window like that. I'm really sorry. I'l... I'l pay for the damages..." Stella walked to the window and glanced at the broken glass pieces before saying, "You were here for repairs. Accidents happen. Make sure you don't slip again, and be more careful. Nothing's more important than safety." "I-1l be more careful...” The man did not expect Stella to treat him so kindly. He kept glancing at her several times, but he didn't dare to look at her directly.

With his head hung low and his eyes darting around frantically, the hands that he kept behind his back still trembled.

Wendy was already resting on the sofa as they waited for the bodyguards to come and handle everything.

Suddenly, her face turned terrifyingly pale. She grasped at Stella, who was beside her, and said, "Stella, get my medicine...” Stella turned around and noticed Wendy's blanched face. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, and her breathing was short and unsteady, as if she was getting out of breath- "Mom, what's wrong?!" "Quick... grab my medicine!" Wendy breathed laboriously. Her face slowly turned from white to blue, and her lips trembled. She seemed to be in a lot of pain.

At first, she was still holding onto Stella's arm tightly, but now her grip was loosening...

"Mom!" Stella was starting to panic. "Are you okay? Where is the medicine?!" She guessed that Wendy was probably suffering from some underlying disease, so she began searching her body for the medicine.

Wendy pointed at the coffee table.

Stella instantly understood her meaning, so she rushed towards the coffee table and grabbed Wendy's bag. She reached inside and took out a white medicine bottle.

"How many do you need?" she asked.

She speedily obtained a glass of water and placed it near Wendy's mouth before feeding her the medicine as instructed.

hapter 985 Just then, the bodyguards and the housekeeper rushed into the room- "What'sthe matter, Mrs. Ford?” "What happened here?!" The housekeeper had worked at the Ford Mansion for many years, and the second he saw Wendy collapse on the sofa, he hurriedly rushed over." Madam! Did you have another heart attack?" This revelation surprised Stella. She asked Wendy, "So you have... heart disease?" Wendy nodded. By now, she had calmed down significantly.

"I've had it for many years now," she explained.

She then turned to the housekeeper. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Stella has given me my medicine." "Thank goodness..." The housekeeper breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze turned towards the stranger in the room, then frowned and asked sternly," What's going on here?" That plump man had been stunned because of Wendy's sudden heart attack, but he came back to his senses upon hearing the housekeeper's sharp voice.

"I'm sorry, boss. | slipped and fell just now..." The housekeeper looked around to evaluate the situation. He then looked out the window and glanced at the overalls the plump man was wearing. He now had a rough idea of what had just happened.

"Didn't your company train you before you came here?" he barked. "And to think that you've caused such trouble on such an important occasion... Can you even afford the consequences if something happens to Mrs. Ford and Madam Ford?!" The housekeeper's attitude was vastly different from the way the two women had reacted. Being put in charge of the entire operation within the Ford Manor, it was also his subordinate who was responsible for hiring the maintenance workers there.

Thus, if any problem occurred due to the fault of the workers, the person who ultimately had to answer would be him.

It was unsurprising then that he was especially stern with the plump man.

"Who's your supervisor?" the housekeeper demanded. "At the rate they're going, | wonder if they're even qualified for their job! You were paid a lot so you could repair, not break in through the window and give people a scare!" The plump man's face reddened instantly. He was already injured, to begin with, and bloodstains still covered his face. Now, the housekeeper's severe admonition distressed him so much that he couldn't even raise his head.

"Excuse me..." Stella tried to interrupt the housekeeper as she could not watch it going on any longer.

"Leave it," Wendy whispered, grabbing her arm to stop her. "Let the housekeeper do his job. He's much more experienced than you. He knows exactly how to handle it." Just after she spoke, heavy footsteps were heard approaching from the door.

"Wendy!" Chris had hurried here as soon as he heard what had happened.” Are you okay?" He rushed to Wendy's side, looking deeply distraught. Grasping her shoulders, he looked at her anxiously.

"Are you still in any sort of discomfort?" he asked. "Should we go to the hospital?" "No," Wendy shook her head and told him, "I'm fine. Just get all these people away for now. Don't let this disrupt Father's party..." Though it was not that big of a deal, if the news of her heart attack blew out of proportion, she might just be accused of trying to hog all the attention.

Chris understood her line of reasoning very well, and seeing that she was much better, he nodded and reassured her, "Don't worry. I'm the only one who knows about this." Wendy stared fixedly at him, unsure if his undisguised concern for her was all genuine. Suddenly, all her resentment for him was mixed with a new litany of other emotions.

This mixed bag of feelings perplexed her.

Chris paid no attention to Wendy's changing emotions because he noticed that Stella was still beside them.

"Are you hurt?" he asked out of politeness.

Stella shook her head.

She glanced at the plump man. She wondered if it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but for some reason, she had a feeling that that man had been staring at her from the moment he broke into the room.

Yet every time she looked at him, the man would instantly look away.

The gut feeling made her hair stand on end. She could only hope that she had been overthinking.

For the time being, the room was unsuitable for anyone to stay in, let alone Weston and Stella. The housekeeper sent the people away while Chris took Wendy back to their room.

Weston only heard of what had transpired after it was all over. He returned to the room only to find Stella cleaning and rearranging her pots.

He strode in, grabbed her wrists, and made her put the things in her hands down.

"Let other people do it," he told her. "l wanted you to stay in the room to rest, not busy yourself with these chores." hapter 986 Weston made Stella stand up.

She glanced at her potted plants destroyed by the man who fell in earlier and became somewhat distressed.

"The soil is full of broken glass...” she grumbled.

"Let others deal with it." Weston's eyebrows twitched when he saw that she was about to clean up the soil with her bare hands. With a much sterner voice, he told her, "Stop. You'll hurt your hands." He forbade her from doing anything else and pulled her away.

"Did you get hurt just now?" "No," she shook her head. "I didn't." She then paused to think before asking, "Does your mom have a heart disease?" "Yeah," he answered briefly, casting his eyes down at her. "She's had it for many years.

"We'll move to another room," he told her as he led her to the bathroom.* Someone will come and move our stuff later. Right now, you should wash all the dirt off your paws." Weston was a notorious neat freak. In fact, he was almost at his limit when he had to suppress his revulsion while holding her dirty hands.

"These aren't paws," Stella muttered with a pout. "These are my hands..." He chuckled and placed her hands beneath the faucet before washing them meticulously.

The metal wash basin was lavish, and the gray countertop was spotless. This choice of color gave the room a chic atmosphere while not looking too cold and impersonal Stella's hands were milky white, making her skin look as delicate as jade. The peach fuzz on the back of her hand and the flush of pink on the exposed fleshy parts of her fingers starkly contrasted against the dark gray backdrop, making her skin look exceptionally translucent and exquisite.

"Stella..." Weston stood behind her, almost encircling her within his arms. His lips were right next to her ear when he softly murmured in a hoarse voice, "How is it so fair, hmm?" He was referring to her skin.

Stella turned her head slightly away, trying to avert from his touch. But no matter how she tried to evade him, he still caught up to her, with his hot breath filling the crook of her neck.

"And so, so tender..." he murmured before planting kisses from the back of her ear to her cheek. "You smell divine." "Weston..." Stella remained relatively clear-headed. "It's still early. It's not even dark outside..." Weston was a stoic man who had always kept his feelings and emotions concealed. Only when he was in bed would he say such sweet and tender words to her.

He was especially generous with praise when he was ablaze with desire.

He had always been captivated by her body. He didn't just love her skin, but he even adored her feet.

Whenever his passion was at its peak, the praises he lavished on her far exceeded these...

And they always made Stella blush to the roots of her hair. She would sometimes be so flustered by his words that no matter how exhausted she was from their lovemaking, she would still ry to cover his mouth with her trembling hands so that he would stop talking.

"Does that mean," Weston chuckled and teased her by twisting her words," that you'd be okay if we do this after dark?" As he spoke, he interlaced his long fingers between hers. The sensation of their rubbing knuckles created shockwaves; it was as if an electrical spark passed through them as they touched.

He was only washing her hands, yet he managed to arouse an ardently erotic sensation inside her. Her knees were now weak. She could only lean back against his chest and moaned, "Weston..." Her voice was sultry and smooth as silk as his name lingered on her lips for much longer than usual.

Weston knew that she was at her limits. If he kept on teasing her, her eyes would redden, and she wouldn't be able to handle it.

"We're done," he said. "Your hands are clean now." He slowly let go of her and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her hands dry.

"Your fingernails are getting quite long,” he commented. “Isn't it time to trim them?" He always paid extraordinary attention to her body. Nothing, not even the tiniest detail, could escape his notice.

"They are quite long indeed," she replied as she glanced at them, "but they're not so long that they get in the way."