"Mr. Harvey, I think we should go and teach that pathetic excuse of a man a lesson. He's too full of himself! He knows that Belle is your wife. It's bad enough that he did not relinquish Belle unto your hands, the least he could do is to keep a distance from her. Not only did he not do that, but he also took advantage of Madam's memory loss to weasel himself into her heart. D*mn, that dude." Aron's sharp eyes stared at Steffan, who was escorting Belle. Sparks of anger lit up in his eyes. That was the first time in his time serving Calvin that he was this incensed.
"Have they come out?" A cold glint flashed in Calvin's eyes. He took a deep drag of his cigarette and asked with a dark expression.
That morning, Belle had taken advantage of the time when Harvey Group was busy in the office and ran out of the hospital. On top of it, she went back to that contemptible Yintern Group to work. Did this d*mned woman need to be so dedicated? It should be noted that he was her husband. Escaping from him was equivalent to fleeing from her family. It should not be like this.
"They're out now, Mr. Harvey. Do you want me to go up and give that Steffan b*stard a good beating? Beat him until his face is bruised?" Aron asked with a look of hatred.
"No." A disdainful smile appeared on the corner of Calvin's mouth. "We should consider this matter carefully. There's no need to hurry at this time."
He was the only man familiar with his wife, Belle. Although she had lost her memory, her nature had not changed. Otherwise, she would not have lived in the dormitory. Steffan had saved her life. If he ran up and gave Steffan a serious beating, then it would make Belle feel even more disgusted. If his predictions were correct, then Belle had probably already regarded Steffan as her savior and was trying to repay his kindness. If he acted impulsively, then it would only destroy his own image and work in Steffan's favor. By doing this, he would not only lose Belle's trust but also intensify her guilt towards Steffan, which would only push her further away.
Of course, he had a way to bring his woman back. He had the confidence to do so.
"Dory, let's go eat some fillet mignon. I know a good restaurant with their award-winning steaks." After getting in the car, Steffan ignited the engine and turned his head towards Belle.
"No, thanks. Just send me back to the dormitory. I'm a little sleepy today and I want to rest Tristany. There is still a project to be carried out tomorrow." Belle shook her head, refusing.
"But you haven't had dinner." Steffan was worried. She was weak, and it would certainly bring harm to her body.
Belle smiled and said, "Don't worry, there are still some toasts and eggs in my dormitory. I can fix something for myself. The food in restaurants tends to be unclean, and I am not used to it."
"Those things aren't nutritious, you can't." Steffan shook his head rhythmically, rejecting flatly.
"Steffan, I really don't want to eat outside. I just want to go back Tristany and rest. I still have a blueprint to be studied." Belle's big bright eyes were full of pleading.
Steffan took one last look at her. It was really impertinent to force her, so he had no choice but to acquiesce, though he still offered, "Well, there is a supermarket right up front, I'll buy you something to eat. That should be fine, yeah?"
What else could Belle have done other than to agree to Steffan's request?
Due to the cold weather outside, he parked the car on the side of the road and went into the supermarket to buy some food.
Belle sat in the car and yawned. She was about to close her eyes to rest. Just as she leaned her head against the seat, she noticed a black limousine parked behind her through the mirror. The car seemed to be a little familiar. She sensed something strange and couldn't help but to look at it a few more times.
The night before, when she had been taken away by Calvin, she could not sleep at all. As soon as she leaned her head against the cushion, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Belle was sleeping soundly when Steffan walked in with a bag full of groceries.
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