Yes, I Have a Child with the Villain

"..."

Caroline Whitman silently averted her gaze, forcing her attention back to the movie.

After the little episode of her accidentally dozing off, she had rested her eyes for a bit and was reasonably awake now.

Otherwise, no one would believe that she could fall asleep during a comedy she herself had suggested.

But as she watched, Caroline Whitman’s attention gradually drifted, and her gaze landed on Adrian Grant’s hand.

His knuckles were well-defined, the back of his hand pale and his fingers long. It rested quietly on the surface of the blanket.

Only then did she realize that the back of her own hand was, at some point, resting against his.

The moment she noticed this detail, she became completely distracted.

This lasted until the end of the movie.

The hand resting on the blanket tilted slightly, the fingers seeming to relax as the palm turned partially upward.

Caroline Whitman blinked, her eyes following that arm upward.

The man beside her had his head tilted back lazily, leaning against the sofa’s backrest with his eyes closed in quiet repose.

They had watched two movies in a row. It was natural to be sleepy.

’So, am I the only one awake in the whole theater now?’

Caroline Whitman watched him for a good while before looking away, only then remembering that Tiny was with them.

When she turned her head, the little guy was wide-eyed, playing with the strands of her hair that had fallen beside the throw pillow.

As if sensing his mother’s gaze, Ryan Grant turned to meet Caroline Whitman’s eyes and blinked his big, dark orbs.

The big one and the little one didn’t speak right away.

It dawned on Caroline Whitman that the movie had been over two hours long. The little one had probably woken up somewhere in the middle.

The thought amused her. How could this child be so quiet after waking up?

"When did you wake up?" she asked in a low voice.

With his mother’s attention finally on him, Ryan Grant rolled over on the large sofa and sat up, giggling softly. "I woke up a long time ago! You and Daddy didn’t even notice."

"You kept peeking at Daddy, so you didn’t notice me."

Tiny was straightforward and spoke without a filter. He said whatever he saw.

You never knew what would suddenly pop out of his mouth.

Just like now. The moment he said it, Caroline Whitman’s brow twitched.

She quickly turned to look at Adrian Grant, wondering if he had heard.

’He should be asleep, right?’

’He can’t be faking it, can he?’

Despite her thoughts, Caroline Whitman quickly put a finger to her lips and made a "shhh" sound.

Ryan Grant got the hint and immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

Caroline Whitman turned her head slightly. Adrian Grant was still leaning back with his eyes shut.

Hearing his steady, even breathing, she was sure he was asleep.

So, she turned to Ryan Grant and whispered, "Go play by yourself."

Ryan Grant was already used to this kind of scene. He didn’t need his mom to tell him; he didn’t want to stay here anyway.

"Okay, Mommy."

His small frame scrambled to the edge of the sofa, turned, and slid down before putting on his slippers.

"Don’t go playing with water by yourself, and don’t play with fire in the kitchen, you hear?"

As he was about to leave, Caroline Whitman couldn’t help but add another warning. After a moment’s thought, she said, "You know what? Maybe you should just stay here."

"No way! It’s dark in here, I don’t wanna be here anymore." He had already pushed his patience to the limit by staying with them for so long.

"Mommy, I won’t play with water by myself, and I won’t play with fire. I’ll just play in the new toy room."

Tiny ran out eagerly.

Leaving the two adults alone in the theater.

Caroline Whitman leaned back on the sofa, turning her head to stare blankly at Adrian Grant’s profile.

Now she was the only one left, and the room grew much quieter.

The phrase Ryan had just said—"peeking at Daddy"—was now echoing endlessly in her mind.

To be honest, she really did feel a pang of guilt, as if she’d been caught doing something sneaky.

She was afraid he wasn’t actually asleep, but was just resting his eyes and secretly listening.

So, Caroline Whitman slowly leaned closer and waved a hand in front of his face.

Her fingers stopped barely an inch from his cheek, wanting to touch but not daring to.

In the end, her fingers moved up and took off his glasses for him.

This was the second time she had removed his glasses, but there was no sudden grab of her wrist as she might have expected.

Nor did he suddenly open his eyes to meet her gaze, as she might have imagined.

Caroline Whitman’s heart pounded for a while. Only after quietly watching his sleeping face did her emotions slowly calm down.

Who would have known that in the next second, his head would tilt slightly and, without any warning, come to rest on her shoulder.

Caroline Whitman tensed up instantly. Her just-calmed heart began to race again.

She blinked, not daring to shift her position.

She had planned to take off his glasses, watch him for a little longer, and then leave. Well, that plan was shot. Now she was stuck like a statue.

Caroline Whitman held that position for nearly ten minutes before she couldn’t take it anymore.

It was hard to imagine how Adrian Grant had managed to stay so still for so long when she had leaned on him back then.

This sofa was huge; it could easily serve as a bed.

’Might as well just lay him down flat to sleep.’

She reached out, cupped the side of his face, then slid her hand down to support the back of his head. Shifting her position, she knelt on the sofa, lifted the blanket, and slid one arm under the crook of his knees.

Then, she gritted her teeth, exerted her strength, and steadily lifted him into a bridal carry.

Caroline Whitman actually had a secret side to her: she was a little bit stronger than the average person.

This was the result of deliberately strengthening her physical fitness every day after her so-called memories awakened when she was ten.

After all, this was a world with Mary Sue logic. She was terrified of getting entangled with the main characters, pissing someone off, and getting ganged up on. That was why she had no choice but to ask Franklin Whitman to hire a fitness trainer for her.

This was also why, on the night she and Adrian Grant were drugged, she had been able to cling desperately to his arm, and he hadn’t been able to break free.

She hadn’t worked out in a long time since starting her job, so this was actually a bit of a strain.

She lifted her foot, shuffled slowly, and gauged that there was enough space. Then, she bent her knees to a half-kneel, preparing to gently set him down.

Just as she turned her head, she found herself staring right into the man’s deep, reserved, phoenix-like eyes.

Adrian Grant had woken up at some point and was now watching her quietly.

Caroline Whitman was so startled that the strength she’d been holding in instantly vanished. Her legs went soft, and the man in her arms fell unexpectedly onto the sofa.

Her heart leaped into her throat, and she quickly reached out to securely cradle the back of his head.

Her own center of gravity followed, and she ended up toppling forward, pinning him beneath her.

"You—when did you wake up?" Caroline Whitman was nearly incoherent.

It felt exactly like being caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"When you picked me up."

"So you were really asleep before that?" Caroline Whitman asked, her brain short-circuiting.

Adrian Grant sounded amused. "Did you do something to me while I was sleeping that would make you think I was faking it?"

Caroline Whitman flushed. "Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous."

Then she remembered that the person in question had caught her in the act of lifting him up, so she forced herself to explain:

"I just saw that you looked uncomfortable sleeping against my shoulder, so I was trying to help you adjust your position."