Mr. Ford is Jealous

Chapter 902 “Mr. Ford...” 

“Good afternoon Mr. Ford!” 

The room was filled with voices greeting Weston. 

He nodded slightly at everyone in acknowledgment, before his eyes fell on Stella, and his eyes stayed glued on her. 

The sight of her in the wedding dress mesmerized him so much that he could only stand in complete silence. 

The last time they got married, all they did was sign their names on dotted lines and not much else. Stella was not someone special to him back then, so he didn‘t bother making any effort. Though he treated her with dignity and respect, the fact remained that he didn‘t have any feelings for her. 

In the end, all they did was invite Roger out for dinner. He didn‘t even inform any of his friends or family. He remembered how Stella thanked him for settling her brother‘s medical bills. The overall impression the day left on his mind was that the marriage was a transactional exchange. 

Yet, before he could realize it, his mind would shift to Stella every time he stood on top of a high–rise building and looked down at the crowd on the ground. Anytime he thought of home, the image of her would pop up. 

“Are you done testing your wedding suit, Mr. Ford? Madam still has a few dresses to try on. Would you mind sitting here for a 

while?” the designer asked, breaking his thoughts. 

said another staff member. Weston was now surrounded by a few people trying to serve him. “Would you

anything,” he told them, signaling

eyes were glued on his bride, who was standing in front of the mirror, wearing a long white wedding dress.

known that she was

savored slowly and patiently, a beauty that compelled him to cherish her and protect her carefully.

him, beautiful women were a dime a dozen. He had always been surrounded by attractive people all his life, not to mention the aristocratic roots he hailed from. He was used to having the best of everything, including beautiful admirers. Guinevere, for example, was a gorgeous woman who had been in love with him for

to warm up to them in a way

Stella‘s beauty

to see her all made up and glamorous. He wanted to see her

see her all stripped, without so much a stitch to hide her bare body from his probing

she was now

Weston in through the mirror where their eyes met

at him and asked, “How do I look?”

“Stunning,” he replied. 

almost mundane, but each step Weston took to get to Stella betrayed the underlying current of violent passion bubbling

examining Weston too. Compared to the bride‘s dress, the groom‘s wedding suit looked much simpler. The black suit he donned himself was decorated with golden embroidery

nothing short of aristocratic, perhaps even