Yes, I Have a Child with the Villain

I just didn’t expect Ryan to react so quickly.

Fortunately, Ryan didn’t press the issue.

「Friday night.」

The two of them went to a Western restaurant.

The moment she arrived, she understood why Adrian Grant hadn’t wanted the child to come along.

The restaurant was one of the Grant Group’s properties, and she guessed there would be plenty of eyes and ears watching them throughout the meal.

If the child showed up and was recognized, she could probably expect the entire Grant family to show up for a family reunion.

The moment they were seated, a waiter immediately approached with menus.

Adrian Grant looked up at her, his tone casual. "What would you like?"

She wasn’t really in the mood to choose, so she answered casually, "Anything’s fine. I’m not picky and don’t have any dietary restrictions."

Adrian Grant didn’t press her, simply looking down and ordering a few dishes from the waiter.

Honestly, anyone would be tempted to sneak a few extra glances at someone so good-looking, and Caroline Whitman was no exception.

She took the opportunity while he was ordering to finally dare and subtly size him up.

The perfectly tailored white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, straight back, and narrow waist. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses rested on his high-bridged nose. Even after spending so much time with him, she could still feel that intimidating, unapproachable air about him.

When Adrian Grant finished ordering and looked up, Caroline hurriedly averted her gaze.

But as her eyes shifted, she suddenly noticed an unfamiliar old gentleman at the adjacent table. He was holding a menu, but his gaze kept drifting, almost imperceptibly, in her direction.

?

As if sensing her stare, the old gentleman nonchalantly gestured for the waiter to take his order.

Caroline silently retracted her gaze, letting it fall back on Adrian Grant.

Adrian Grant met her gaze and immediately understood. He glanced casually in the direction she had just been looking.

Gavin Grant was already walking away, leaning on his cane, leaving the sight of his sturdy and upright back.

"..."

Caroline chuckled softly. "Your grandfather really keeps a close eye on you, doesn’t he?"

Adrian Grant: "..."

"I didn’t expect him to come either."

’At most, I’d thought Gavin Grant might have a waiter report back to him.’

Caroline teased, "It’s a good thing your son didn’t tag along. Otherwise, this would’ve been quite a scene."

"..."

Adrian Grant pulled his gaze away from where Gavin Grant had been, let it drift past Caroline’s back, then paused. He looked back at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Right back at you."

At first, Caroline didn’t understand what he meant. But his words prompted her to glance over her shoulder, and— ’unbelievable’.

A pot-bellied, middle-aged man in sunglasses and a black hat was also holding a menu, using it to solemnly cover half of his face.

Franklin Whitman’s build and presence were too distinctive.

Even in different clothes, she could still recognize her own father.

"..."

Caroline looked away, silently picked up her glass of water, and took a slow sip.

’Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Neither of us has any room to laugh at the other.’

After a moment, she seemed to think of something and glanced at the tabletop. "There aren’t any bugs on this table, are there?"

’They had just mentioned the word "son," after all.’

For once, Adrian Grant actually seemed to ponder for a couple of seconds. His gaze swept over the table with a complicated expression before he pursed his lips and said, "I doubt it."

’If there really isn’t even this modicum of privacy, then he can forget about ever bringing up the marriage alliance again.’

Just then, the waiter arrived with their food.

One of their "guardians" had left, but the other was still watching from behind.

Caroline didn’t really mind Franklin Whitman’s surveillance. After all, she wasn’t the one who had to meet a marriage quota.

So, once the food arrived, she simply dug in and ate without a word.

This was actually the first time the two of them had eaten a meal alone.

Usually, the child was with them.

Tonight was their first time truly dining alone together.

She took a large, unladylike bite of her steak, but when she glanced up, she was met with the sight of the man opposite her eating with an elegant, refined grace.

In that instant, the food in her mouth suddenly seemed to lose all its flavor.

She subconsciously wanted to adjust her table manners.

’But then again,’ she thought, ’he already saw me at my absolute most embarrassing that night. What do a few bad table manners matter?’

With that thought, she decided to just let go and eat however she wanted.

She ate and drank her fill.

Caroline glanced at the time.

Nine-thirty.

"I’m heading out."

"Okay. I’ll head back to The Seraphic first."

Remembering the "intelligence operative" behind her, Caroline nodded. "Alright. I’ll go back to my place first, then head to Brocade Bay later."

After paying the bill, they left their table one after the other and walked out of the restaurant.

Just as they were heading their separate ways toward the parking lot...

Caroline suddenly felt her foot give way. The heel of her high heel had snapped without warning. A sharp pain shot through her ankle, and she instantly lost her balance, about to have an intimate encounter with the pavement.

A large, warm hand clamped firmly around her arm, yanking her back from her fall.

Adrian Grant glanced down at her broken heel, his voice low and steady. "Are you alright?"

Caroline steadied herself and looked down at her now lopsided shoes, her cheeks flushing.

Only one thought ran through her mind:

’This shoe brand is going on my permanent blacklist!’

’But why is it that every single time I’m alone with him, it’s always some mortifying situation like this! Aaargh!’

The warmth of Adrian Grant’s palm still lingered on her arm. Caroline quickly composed herself. "I’m fine. The heel just broke, that’s all."

"Can you walk?"

Caroline looked down. ’There’s no way I can walk like this.’

"I can."

Deciding to just go barefoot, she bent down to take off her shoes. But just as she did, Adrian Grant suddenly leaned over, slid one arm securely under her knees and the other around her back, and swiftly lifted her into his arms.

The sudden feeling of being swept off her feet made Caroline’s heart leap, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

Before she could say a word, Adrian spoke. "I’ll give you a ride. I can’t just let you go home like this."

His low voice, along with that familiar, faint, crisp scent, enveloped her once again.

"Thank you for the trouble."

At this point, Caroline didn’t refuse or struggle to get down. That would just make things too awkward.

Her tense body relaxed slightly, and she let her head rest against his firm, strong chest.

In that moment, she could hear a heart beating—whether it was his or her own, she couldn’t tell.

Franklin Whitman lifted his sunglasses, whipped out his phone to snap several pictures of the scene, then switched to video mode to record the rest.

"Tsk, tsk. The kid’s not so clueless after all." Gavin Grant popped up out of nowhere, also holding a phone, having captured the same moment.

Watching the car drive off, leaving a cloud of dust, Gavin Grant remarked with a sense of wonder.

Based on his limited understanding of Adrian Grant, the boy would never have been the type to bend down and carry someone to his car.

He quickly sent the photos to Jonathan Grant and Grace Lawson.

Meanwhile, Franklin Whitman was admiring the zoomed-in photos on his phone, shaking his head and clucking his tongue in amazement.

"That girl’s finally coming around."

’In the past, she’d never have let any man hold her like that.’

Franklin Whitman suddenly had a flash of insight. ’Could Adrian Grant be the person his daughter said she likes?’