Crossroads

Chapter 173

It had been many years since Stephanie last came to the luxurious, 54 thousand square feet, foreign–style Pearson Villa. The villa looked exactly the same as she remembered, every inch of it still making her feel the same distaste as before.

As she stood in the middle of Pearson Villa’s grand hall, the shimmering crystal lights cast a glow on her delicate face. Yet, Stephanie was frowning as she observed the bustling crowd with a serious expression. She saw that the elegantly dressed guests were happily chatting and toasting. Numerous business and political figures had gathered to celebrate Teresa’s birthday.

“Oh, that’s Mr. Wellington from the Wellington family. Hello, Mr. Wellington…”

As Stephanie walked arm in arm with Dominick toward the inner hall of the banquet, they heard flattering voices along the way. “It’s a pleasure to see you here. It’s truly an honor…”

He barely acknowledged these people, responding with a slight nod and a blank expression.

“How has Mr. George Wellington been? I visited Wellington Villa during Christmas but missed you. It’s been ages since we last met. You probably don’t remember me anymore…“.

Vincent, with his usual smile, replied casually, “Sir, how could we younger folks ever forget you? You’re still in your prime. Every time I switch the TV channel, there you are giving a speech. It’s impossible to forget you.”

“You sure know how to make people laugh, Vincent. You’ve definitely inherited your grandfather’s charm…”

Vincent chatted with a man in his sixties. At such occasions, it was inevitable to engage in small talk.

Γ

Stephanie was surprised, as she had just seen this older man giving a solemn speech on the news yesterday. She then discreetly tugged on Dominick’s

‘s arm and whispered, “Isn’t that the old man who…” Her sneaky gesture was quite improper, prompting the old man to ask first, “And who might this be?”

It was only then that Dominick looked up at the old man and replied, “My wife, Stephanie.”

at the

the first time Stephanie encountered such a prominent figure from television, and she felt a little tense. She

as “Mr. Johnson“, he paused for a second before his face lit up with joy as if feeling particularly proud. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, “So, you are Mr. Wellington’s wife. You’re gorgeous,

small sip from a cocktail he picked up from a waiter’s tray, and his eyes widened

such thing as a woman! Who on earth doesn’t know about Dominick’s precious wife? Stephanie is already infamous for her fiery temper and stubbornness.

of the Reed family. I bet you’re a bit bored now that you’re pregnant, huh? The Johnson family has a few heiresses around your age. Since women naturally love beauty, they’ll definitely pester you with skincare questions if they see you. Feel free to bother them with any of your worries…” The formally dressed, imposing older man in front of Stephanie suddenly started chatting away. He even affectionately

Her previous impression of this dignified and stern figure from TV was utterly

didn’t know how to respond for a moment. Dominick, standing beside her, naturally smoothed a few stray strands of hair from her chest and responded on her behalf, “Mr. Johnson, she’s tired. She’ll go rest

instantly shifted at Dominick’s cold response, making him feel somewhat embarrassed. He then quickly changed the subject, saying, “Sure… Take care

as she nodded slightly to the older man. “I’ll go rest over there. You all

Christmas to ask George for a favor, which the Wellington family

complicated matters, so he reminded her as how he usually would,

it.” She was unusually well–behaved

but they were nowhere near

Chapter 173

arms trade. Stephanie took a seat in a corner and looked around the grand hall of Pearson Villa with a complex the villa luxurious and dazzling, but after spending the past six

unchanged, but she couldn’t help but wonder aloud,

search around for the person she was looking

‘Is Oscar

She used to find

thought it was improper to wander around with her pregnant belly, so since the banquet hadn’t officially started yet, she patiently sat and waited, thinking she might see

all, Oscar was the Pearson family’s only third–generation heir,

glass of juice and a piece of dessert cake. She sat alone at a small round table, gloomily poking at the mousse cake with a fork,

and chatting with some elders in

furrow in his brow, indicating he wasn’t in a good mood. Unfortunately, those people didn’t notice, or maybe they were