Chapter 151
He let out a soft laugh, resting his chin on top of my head. His warm breath brushed against my ear. "Alright, I'll do whatever you say and be a good patient."
We left the hospital and got into the car.
We had just pulled onto the main road when Benjamin's phone suddenly buzzed.
The Wilson Mansion's number flashed across the screen.
The moment the call connected, Sloane's warm, loving voice filled the car. "Benjamin, are you and Ophelia free today? Come home for dinner. Quentin's been asking about you two for days, and I had the kitchen make some nourishing soup."
I was about to nod and say yes, but Benjamin turned it down without a second thought. "Grandma, work's been hectic these past few days, and Ophelia's worn out. We won't make it this time — we'll come see you soon."
After he hung up, I looked at him, a little confused. "I actually cleared my schedule today, so I'm free. And you've been stuck at home resting because of me — what do you mean you've been busy?"
Benjamin tossed his phone aside and reached over, pulling me into his arms.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead. His deep eyes held a raw, undisguised possessiveness.
"I just want to be alone with you." He paused, his fingertips gently brushing my cheek. His voice carried a quiet urgency and intensity. "Ophelia, I want to marry you soon. Only when you're truly and officially my wife will I be able to really rest easy."
The unease in his eyes made my heart tremble.
I leaned against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and finally gave in with a nod.
We got back to Azure Ridge Villa, and not long after lunch, Luca arrived with several lawyers and rang the doorbell.
The formal property notarization documents were already drawn up — a thick stack, laid out neatly on the coffee table.
Benjamin pressed a signing pen into my hand and wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder.
His voice was soft and coaxing. "Ophelia, sign it — just to put my mind at ease. Okay?"
I stared at the staggering figures in the documents — properties and funds scattered across the globe, and absolute control over the Wilson Group. My fingers tightened slightly.
I couldn't help but think back to what he'd said in the conference room yesterday — "just in case something ever happens to me."
The whole thing felt like someone rushing to get their affairs in order, and it sat uneasily with me.
"Benjamin, something feels off about you." I turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of a crack. "Are you hiding something from me?"
"Stop overthinking." He avoided my eyes and kissed me, swallowing every question I hadn't yet said out loud.
When the kiss ended, he took my hand and, half by force and half by coaxing, guided me into signing the documents.
As I stared at the bright red fingerprint on the page, that vague unease in my chest only grew heavier — though I still couldn't put my finger on what exactly felt wrong.
To ease my worries, Benjamin scrapped his afternoon rest plans and took me to Sky Rotating Restaurant, the finest dining spot in Harbor City.
He booked out the entire floor. Soft piano music drifted through the air.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched Harbor City's glittering skyline. He patiently cut my steak for me, his eyes never leaving me for a single moment — as if he were trying to burn my image into his very bones.
After dinner, he didn't rush to take me home. Instead, he had the driver head to the Wilson Group headquarters.
It was my first time ever visiting the Wilson Group in person.
The skyscraper soaring into the clouds, the tight security systems, the smoothly running core departments — everything spoke to the sheer, staggering power of this massive business empire.
Luca followed behind us, dutifully walking us through the Wilson Group's global operations.
Walking alongside Benjamin, I watched as executives who normally commanded entire industries bowed their heads to him, barely daring to breathe. It quietly stunned me.
The White Group had its own standing in Harbor City, but next to the Wilson Group, it was nothing. The scale and depth of the Wilson Group far exceeded anything I had imagined.
This man had carved his way through a cutthroat world entirely on his own, building an empire that others could only look up at. And now, without a moment's hesitation, he was placing the power of life and death over all of it right in my hands.
By the time we left the Wilson Group building, night had fallen.
The car moved smoothly along the elevated ring road. I leaned against Benjamin's shoulder, watching the neon lights streak past outside the window — and then my body tensed up out of nowhere.
I caught it in the rearview mirror: a black, unplated SUV trailing us at a steady distance.
At first I thought it was just heading the same way, but after several intersections, it was still locked onto our tail.
When our car changed lanes, it changed lanes too, without hesitation, closing the gap little by little.
"Benjamin, I think that car behind us is following us." I sat up straight, my brow furrowed.
Benjamin glanced at the rearview mirror.
The warmth drained from his eyes in an instant. A cold, sharp edge radiated off him as he pulled me closer.
"Lose it," he said to the driver, his voice ice-cold.
"Yes, Mr. Wilson." The driver floored the gas immediately. The Maybach let out a low roar and shot forward like an arrow, aiming to cut ahead and shake the tail at the upcoming ramp.
But the SUV had clearly come prepared. Just as our car moved to change lanes, the other vehicle suddenly accelerated and jerked the wheel hard, its massive body cutting directly across our path and blocking us completely.
The screech of brakes tore through the air. The Maybach shuddered violently, tires grinding against the asphalt with a sharp, acrid smell of burning rubber, and came to a forced stop in the middle of the road.
The impact threw me forward. Benjamin moved fast, catching me and pulling me into his arms, using his own back to absorb the force.
"Are you okay?" He checked me over urgently, his voice cold as ice.
"I'm fine." I shook my head, still shaken, and turned to look out the window.
The black SUV sat there brazenly blocking the road ahead, its blinding headlights blazing straight into our car.
Benjamin's face had gone ashen. A terrifying, murderous look rose in his eyes.
He let go of me and reached for the door handle. "Stay in the car. Don't move. I'll handle this."
"Don't go!" I grabbed his wrist and held on tight, my heart hammering. Whoever was out there meant trouble — his body still hadn't fully recovered. It was too dangerous.
Just then, the window of the SUV ahead slowly rolled down.
A man in a baseball cap leaned out and let out a casual, insolent whistle in our direction.
Then his voice cut through the night air and reached us clearly.
"Mr. Wilson — step out. Let's have a little chat."