The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

He ignored the pain from his injuries and began searching for her himself.

But Leonard's skill at covering his tracks was unnervingly sharp.

Ever since he'd left the hospital, not a single clue had been left behind.

Foreman's anxiety grew with each passing minute.

It had now been over four hours since Stella first went missing.

Since the moment her disappearance was discovered, Sandford had been locked down—no one allowed out, only in.

There was no way Leonard could smuggle Stella and Abby out of Sandford. Finding Stella was only a matter of time.

Still, Foreman couldn't shake the restless agitation bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

The fact that Leonard had dared to snatch someone right under his nose was a blatant show of disrespect a silent challenge that stung worse than any insult.

He stared out at the pitch-black night through the car window, his own expressionless face reflected in the glass. A cold, ruthless glint flashed in his

eyes.

If he found Leonard, he'd make sure the man never left here alive.

The driver ferried Foreman around, checking every suspicious spot.

But Foreman was still injured, and fatigue crept up on him. Leaning back in the rear seat, he drifted off without realizing it.

He didn't know how long he'd been asleep before a sudden, jarring stop jolted him awake.

He snapped his eyes open and demanded in a low voice, "What's going on?"

The driver, clearly rattled, stammered, "Mr. Richards, s-some cars have boxed us in..."

In Sandford, there were very few who'd dare intercept Foreman's car.

He was known for his good temper, but he was no pushover.

Frowning, Foreman pushed open the car door. The driver tried to stop him, "Mr. Richards, you're hurt. What if these people..."

But Foreman had already stepped out.

He'd spotted a tall figure emerging from a car a short distance away.

He recognized him instantly-Neville.

Foreman's tone was cool. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Connolly? Stopping my car in the dead of night—rather dramatic, don't you think?"

Neville looked straight at him. "Where are Star and Abby?"

Foreman's mind raced, but he replied smoothly, “I don't know. I'm looking for her myself."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "You're searching for Star too?"noveldrama

Foreman nodded. "Yes. Joshua called me earlier said he couldn't reach her. I

sent people to her hotel, but neither she nor Abby were there. I'm having my men search the city now."

After his earlier "heroic rescue,"

Foreman had been worried Haynes would wake up and start asking questions. So, he'd ordered all traces of Stella and Abby's movements erased-including the three days they'd spent at his house, which was nów strictly confidential.

It wasn't difficult; Stella and Abby had rarely left the hotel, always on guard against Leonard. This was Sandford, after all-if Foreman wanted to hide someone's O movements, it was child's play.

As for Neville's own bodyguards, Foreman had neutralized them long ago—they

weren't passing any messages to anyone.

The ones assigned to protect Stella now? They were his people.

From Abby, Foreman had learned that the guards Neville sent only took orders from Stella, never reporting her whereabouts back to Neville unless something truly dire happened. Otherwise, it would have felt like surveillance, not protection.

Abby had even remarked how thoughtful and respectful Neville was for setting it up that way.

That gave Foreman the perfect opening.

So, from the moment Stella first arrived in Sandford, those "bodyguards" had already been replaced with his own men.