Yes, I Have a Child with the Villain

Caroline Whitman’s heart skipped a beat. Before she could speak, she saw Adrian Grant slowly open his eyes.

A hazy fog from the alcohol still clouded them. His gaze focused on her face, lingering for a long moment before he called out her name in a hoarse, soft voice, "Caroline Whitman?"

"It’s me," Caroline Whitman replied, then asked, "Are you okay?"

After confirming it was her, the tension in Adrian Grant’s shoulders instantly melted away. The last trace of alertness in his eyes vanished, and he closed them again, completely at ease.

The hand gripping her wrist released its hold in that same instant.

Caroline Whitman subconsciously rubbed her wrist. A searing warmth lingered where he had held her.

Adrian Grant kept his eyes closed, his brow furrowed. He lazily and carelessly loosened the knot of his tie.

After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes again. He rose wearily and turned to leave. "Let’s go. Time to head back."

Caroline Whitman watched his tired, unsteady back and spoke up casually.

"You don’t have to go back. Ryan was making a fuss earlier and insisted on coming with me, so he’s already asleep in his room. In your state, you might as well just sleep here. It’ll save you the trouble of going back and forth."

Hearing this, Adrian Grant paused. "Alright."

He immediately turned and sat back down, leaning lazily against the sofa’s backrest. He truly didn’t look like he wanted to move another inch.

Caroline Whitman leaned over and held out her hand. "Shall I help you to your room to rest?"

After two seconds, Adrian Grant slowly lifted his eyelids to look at her. "Thanks."

With that, he closed his eyes again.

’What does he mean, saying "thanks" and then closing his eyes? Are we going or not?’

Just as Caroline Whitman thought he had fallen asleep and was about to withdraw her hand, a large palm suddenly reached out, grasped hers, and tightened its grip.

Caroline Whitman’s eyelid twitched. She lowered her gaze to their clasped hands.

Using her as leverage, Adrian Grant pulled himself up from the sofa.

And so, Caroline Whitman led him by the hand up the stairs and into his bedroom.

CLICK. The light switched on.

Followed by a soft THUD as the door was closed.

Adrian Grant was led to the edge of the bed, where he sat for a moment before collapsing onto it.

But the hand he was holding, he forgot to let go.

Caroline Whitman: "..."

She sat on the edge of the bed, reached out with her other hand, and tried to pry his fingers open.

Nothing happened.

Caroline Whitman was at a loss.

She called Adrian Grant’s name a few times, but there was no response.

"If you don’t let go, I’m going to assume you’re setting me up on purpose."

She received no reply.

Caroline Whitman had no choice but to take out her phone and snap a picture as evidence of him refusing to let go of her hand. Then, she simply got into bed to sleep as well.

After sharing a bed with him platonically for so long, she no longer felt any burden about it.

She leaned closer to the man on the bed, who might have been genuinely asleep or just pretending.

A wicked thought suddenly occurred to Caroline Whitman. ’If I were to steal a kiss right now, would it shock him awake?’

As she thought this, she began to inch closer and closer.

She stopped when they were just a finger’s breadth apart.

Their breaths mingled in the air.

The room’s light was on, and from this distance, Adrian Grant’s refined features were exceptionally clear. His fair skin was flawless, without a single visible pore.

Caroline Whitman’s eyelashes trembled as she lowered her gaze. In the end, she had the desire but not the nerve.

She really didn’t dare to risk the consequences of Adrian Grant suddenly waking up.

But unexpectedly, Adrian Grant suddenly turned over, and their lips collided. Caroline Whitman froze.

The next moment, the man before her slowly lifted his eyelids.

Their pupils reflected each other’s image.

Caroline Whitman’s heart skipped a beat.

She was too stunned to react, and could only watch as Adrian Grant closed his eyes again, his breathing even and deep.

As if nothing had happened.

"...."

With a mix of complex emotions, Caroline Whitman turned her face away. The sensation of their lips touching still lingered.

She looked down at her hand, which was still being held tightly.

Caroline Whitman silently lay down, staring at the ceiling as she let her mind go blank.

She didn’t know how much time passed before drowsiness washed over her, and she fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke up in the middle of the night, the light that had been on was now off.

And she was being held in someone’s arms.

Once her brain registered the situation, she didn’t even have to think to know who it was.

Caroline Whitman felt the fabric of his clothes. It wasn’t the material of a dress shirt.

This felt like his pajamas.

"..."

His scorching body heat practically enveloped her.

Even though the air conditioner was on, she still felt a stifling heat.

Caroline Whitman’s head spun as she wondered, ’Did he wake up in the middle of the night to take a shower?’

The shocking part was that he had clearly woken up at some point, yet he was still sleeping in the same bed with her!

Caroline Whitman didn’t dare to move much. She spent the rest of the night falling back asleep with a turmoil of emotions.

But when she woke up this time...

Caroline Whitman could only say she regretted the terrible decision to bring Adrian Grant to his room to sleep last night.

In fact, she shouldn’t have even come to The Seraphic last night.

Taking it a step further, she shouldn’t have agreed to Ryan Grant’s request to come with her in the first place.

—

"Adrian, Adrian, are you home?"

Grace Lawson’s voice, accompanied by knocking, came from outside the door.

At the same time, Adrian Grant’s phone started to ring.

The ringing startled the people in the bed awake.

"Dad, your phone is ringing," Ryan Grant said, having been woken by the noise.

Then, hearing the knocking and the voice, he shook the two adults beside him.

"Grandma’s here."

Grandma?

Grandma’s here?

Those two words, one after another, snapped Adrian Grant and Caroline Whitman’s minds to full clarity. They had been woken by the ringing and knocking but were still in a groggy, confused state.

CLICK.

The light came on first.

Caroline Whitman saw that Ryan Grant had, at some point, come in and fallen asleep here.

But that wasn’t the main point. The main point was that the person outside seemed to have heard Adrian Grant’s phone ringing.

"Adrian, are you in there? I’m opening the door."

Moving with lightning speed, Caroline Whitman pushed the child down under the covers and dove in after him.

Under the blanket, Caroline Whitman clamped her hand tightly over Ryan Grant’s mouth and made a "shushing" gesture.

"Don’t make a sound, and don’t peek out," Caroline Whitman whispered.

Meanwhile, Adrian Grant was also completely thrown off by this sudden ambush.

He cast a complicated glance at the large and small lumps under the covers, then got up and walked toward the door.

"Mom, what is it?"

The bedroom door was already halfway open.

As soon as Grace Lawson opened the door, she saw her dear son walking toward her.

But what really caught her eye was the large, lumpy shape under the covers on the bed behind him.

Then she saw a pair of women’s slippers on the floor.

"Huh? You have someone in here?"

"Mom, what are you doing here today?"

Adrian Grant neither denied it nor answered directly, simply changing the subject with his own question.

Honestly, he was very surprised by Grace Lawson’s arrival.

It was only around seven in the morning on a weekday—not a normal time for a family visit.

Grace Lawson said, "Your father and I were out for a walk and happened to be passing by. We remembered your grandfather telling us a few days ago that you were living at The Seraphic again, so we came to see if it was true."

A walk...? The old family home was over a half-hour drive from here.

The excuse of "just walking by" was utterly unbelievable.

Adrian Grant blocked his mother, who was trying to peek inside, and closed the door as he stepped out.

"Son, be honest with Mom. Are you in a proper relationship right now? Don’t you dare get involved in some kind of joke like keeping a mistress. Our family’s principles don’t allow for such messes!"

Adrian Grant was about to argue, but his mother cut him off. "Don’t try to deny it. I can recognize women’s shoes when I see them."

"..."