Yes, I Have a Child with the Villain

Tonight.

Ryan Grant wrote with exceptional neatness and focus.

Each stroke was deliberate and unhurried.

He only stopped when he started to yawn, and Adrian Grant finally said, "That’s enough."

"Very good. Go get some sleep."

Pleased by the praise and his release, Ryan Grant put away his pen, closed his workbook, and placed it back in its spot. Then he hopped down from the chair, hugged his teddy bear, and tiptoed out of the study, opening the door himself.

Adrian Grant followed close behind, turning off the light and closing the door, then walked slowly after Tiny.

He watched him walk, step by step, toward the master bedroom where Caroline Whitman was.

He paused for a moment, then followed him inside with a natural expression.

He had barely stepped inside when he heard Ryan Grant’s sweet, childish voice say to Caroline Whitman:

"Mommy, I can’t sleep in my little room. I have to sleep with you guys for the next few days."

"Oh, well, come on up then."

Caroline Whitman glanced at the man who had followed him in, then quickly looked away.

Tiny took off his shoes and clambered onto the bed.

Adrian Grant had already closed the door and walked over to the side of the bed, where he sat down.

"I don’t want to sleep in the middle. I want to sleep on the side."

After getting into bed, Ryan Grant immediately staked out his territory on the large mattress.

Before either of them could say anything, the little guy huffed twice, pouted, and complained, "You two always cuddle when you sleep and squeeze me. I’m not sleeping in the middle."

Sleeping in the middle was not only drafty, but he also got squished.

It was making him like sleeping with the adults less and less.

Regarding the "always cuddle together" comment, the two adults shared a tacit understanding and remained silent.

Thinking about Adrian Grant’s behavior in the study earlier, Tiny assigned the positions. "Tonight, Daddy will sleep in the middle. Let him see what it feels like to be in a draft."

Adrian Grant was unbothered by this level of "revenge." He slowly took off his glasses, his tone light and casual.

"Just remember to cover yourself with your little blanket. Don’t kick it off and catch a cold."

The air conditioner was always on at night, but to prevent the child from getting too much exposure, they always set the temperature to twenty-six degrees Celsius.

Besides, the child had caught a cold and developed a low-grade fever in Norcaster. In theory, a child his age really shouldn’t be left to sleep alone in case he kicked off his covers in the middle of the night.

Ryan Grant was already lying down, having tucked himself in with his little blanket. He looked at Adrian Grant with sparkling eyes. "I’m all covered up."

Then he looked at Caroline Whitman. "Mommy, you guys should hurry up, turn off the lights, and go to sleep too."

Caroline Whitman glanced at the time—it was almost nine o’clock. With a sense of amused resignation, she turned off the light and lay down beside Adrian Grant.

’I can’t believe I’m in the prime of my youth and already living the kind of life where I go to bed at nine.’

In fact, during the past few days of traveling with their son, they had been consistently going to bed early and waking up early.

In the two days since returning to Kingsport, they hadn’t had any recreational activities. It could be said they had turned down all sorts of dates and gatherings just to stay home with their child, which was why they were able to lie down so early.

Sometimes Caroline Whitman wondered, ’In a parallel world, would our married life also involve going to bed this early every day?’

’Are there no fun activities at all?’

Caroline suddenly wanted to ask her son about this, but then she remembered Adrian Grant was there and the lights were off, so she decided against it.

「A long while later.」

The little one must have fallen asleep, but Caroline Whitman was still wide awake.

Although she had taken a nap during the day, she hadn’t done any high-intensity exercise like in the previous two days. She hadn’t used up much mental energy, and on top of that, she had gone to bed early.

So now she was lying with her eyes wide open, staring at the pitch-black ceiling.

’Is this the fourth time I’ve slept in Adrian Grant’s bedroom?’

Caroline Whitman couldn’t quite remember how many times it had been.

’The blackout effect in this bedroom is really good.’

With the night-light off, not a single speck of light got in, perfectly demonstrating the meaning of "so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face."

"Can’t sleep?" A familiar, deep voice sounded beside her ear.

Caroline Whitman turned her head. It was so dark she couldn’t make out any of his features.

"Yeah. I didn’t burn off any energy during the day, and I napped a little while we were watching the movie. I’m really not tired right now," she whispered back.

"Want to watch a movie then?"

"..."

’Seriously? Are we just stuck on movies today or what?’

’How am I supposed to tell him I don’t actually like watching movies that much?’

’Can I still tell the truth now?’

"What kind of movie could you possibly want to watch at this hour? It can’t be a dirty mo—" Caroline Whitman stopped herself just in time.

Unexpectedly, Adrian Grant just asked again, "Want to watch?"

Caroline Whitman: "..."

She suppressed the urge to tell him she didn’t really like movies, almost forgetting that she was currently in the "pursuit" phase.

Thinking about the importance of catering to his interests, she figured since Adrian Grant loved movies so much, she had no choice but to play along.

’Anyway, I’ve already watched two today. I’ll just treat this one as a date.’

’Otherwise, I might not find another excuse to ask him to watch a movie with me in the future.’

Caroline Whitman said, "Okay, let’s watch."

Getting his answer, Adrian Grant sat up straight. He didn’t move around rashly in the dark, wanting to avoid any accidents.

He said, "Lights on."

The small lamp on the nightstand lit up.

Caroline Whitman was the first to throw off the covers and get out of bed. She went around to the other side of the bed to check on their son, tucked his blanket in again, and lingered for a while to let Adrian Grant go first.

Only then did she slowly follow him downstairs and into the home theater.

"What do you want to watch?" Adrian Grant asked as he scrolled through the movie list.

"You’re the one who suggested it, so you must have something you want to watch. You don’t have to ask me." Caroline Whitman had already leaned back on the large sofa bed, waiting for the movie to start.

Adrian Grant pushed up his glasses and gave a faint smile. "Let’s go with a comedy, then. I remember you saying you like this genre too."

Caroline Whitman: "...Yeah."

’I used to only see stories online about ’time management masters’ who could watch the same movie with several different dates in one day, just at different showtimes.’

’Never in a million years did I think I, in my lifetime, would end up watching three comedies in a single day.’

The classic roaring lion opening sequence began to play on the screen.

Adrian Grant turned, walked toward the sofa, and sat down next to Caroline Whitman.

The soft sofa sank, and then Caroline Whitman saw his long fingers pick up the blanket that was covering her.

One lift, one drop.

The blanket was now covering both of their lower bodies.

Caroline Whitman glanced at the sofa. The blanket that Ryan Grant had used by himself during the day was gone.

There was only this one blanket on the entire sofa.

She lowered her eyes and asked tentatively, "Your family isn’t short on blankets, is it?"

Adrian Grant was perfectly frank. "We’re not."

But after those two words, he said nothing more.

When Caroline Whitman turned to look at him, he happened to turn his head to look at her at the same time. She saw him ask with a curious look, "What’s wrong? Are you not used to sharing a blanket with me?"

"..."

’Say I’m not used to it?’

’That’s not really true.’

’Say I am?’

’That’s too direct.’

’Even though we’ve shared a quilt and a blanket before, isn’t his reaction a little off?’

She couldn’t figure out what Adrian Grant was thinking.

Caroline Whitman could only feign nonchalance, frowning as she said, "I was just asking. There’s no need to be so sensitive."