Yes, I Have a Child with the Villain

Upstairs, Caroline Whitman stepped inside and stood in the entryway for a long time, trying to calm her racing heart.

She didn’t know why she had run.

Perhaps it was because after bravely plucking a hair from a tiger’s head, her courage had been used up, leaving her too deflated to face the "tiger" himself.

She felt it had been incredibly farsighted of her to get out of the car, walk around to his side, and kiss him.

Otherwise, if she had kissed him inside the car before getting out, Adrian Grant might have locked the doors on her.

Right now, she just felt like a deflated balloon, utterly drained of strength. Her hands were even trembling slightly as she sat on the sofa for a good while.

Only after she slowly regained her strength did she walk to the window and peek down. The car was still parked downstairs.

Even though the distance was great and the car’s interior was dark, making it impossible to see the person inside, she had a feeling that he was down there, watching her.

It occurred to her that the lights in her apartment were on. He had probably seen her peeking just now.

At that realization, she hastily turned sideways, pulling her gaze away and raising a hand to her still-burning cheek.

Now that she had calmed down a bit, she realized just how bold her actions had been.

But...

What she had expected even less was for Adrian Grant to respond to her.

Caroline’s brain was still short-circuiting.

’So, he really is interested in me?’

Even if she had never seen what Adrian Grant was like when he liked someone, hadn’t she seen what he was like when he kept everyone at arm’s length?

For him to not only gift her women’s jewelry for no reason but also respond to her surprise kiss while he was sober—it was the stuff of dreams.

It was so unbelievable that Caroline had to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming.

It hurt a little.

Apparently, it wasn’t a dream.

Caroline cautiously peeked out again. The car had started and was driving away.

People were truly full of contradictions.

She was the one who had run first, yet seeing him leave, she felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of disappointment.

The next second, Caroline’s phone, which was lying on the sofa, dinged twice. She hurried over to check it.

Adrian Grant: [I’m heading back. Good night.]

Caroline stared at the message, unsure of his attitude.

Was he not holding her responsible? Or was he pretending nothing happened?

She knew that some things required you to ride the momentum and be reckless all the way through.

Clearly, the moment Adrian Grant had launched his counterattack, her own momentum had shamefully begun to wane.

Caroline started to retreat into her shell. She typed, deleted, and retyped, finally sending back two words: [Good night.]

Since he hadn’t mentioned what happened, she, the instigator, certainly didn’t dare bring it up again.

She clutched her phone and waited until midnight, but no new messages came.

When she thought about talking to the kids to distract herself, she realized it was already twelve o’clock; they were surely asleep.

Looking at the single blue earring on her nightstand, she sat up, picked it up, and dangled it.

The blue diamond looked exceptionally brilliant under the light.

Caroline searched again for recent auction records of this earring. Nothing.

’Forget it. I have work tomorrow.’

Caroline put down her phone, composed herself, and tried to sleep.

「The next day at work.」

She made a special trip to Franklin Whitman’s office to ask about Ryan Grant. "Did you take him to class this morning?"

"Oh, no, I didn’t. I’ve decided not to send him anymore."

"Why?" Caroline was taken aback. She hadn’t expected her own dad to make such a decision unilaterally.

"I was just about to tell you. The weather is so hot, I hired a top-tier private tutor to come to the house. This way, I can also keep an eye on how his classes are going."

Franklin Whitman had recently seen too many stories about child abuse. He couldn’t rest easy. He had also asked Ryan Grant for his opinion, and the little guy was ecstatic about not having to check in at school every day.

After a pause, he thought of something and added, "Tell the kid’s parents that I’m paying for it myself. They don’t need to chip in."

Caroline’s mouth twitched. "I think you’re even more invested in Ryan than I am. You were just teasing me last time about giving him his own room."

"Oh, come on. Since the child is being fostered with us, it’s only right that we take good care of him."

The main reason was that the little guy was so likable and they just clicked. If it were any other ordinary child, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths.

"And don’t just say I like him. I think those two old men from the Grant family are fond of Ryan, too. Gavin Grant even came over specifically to see the kid yesterday. My goodness, you should have seen the car—it was packed full of food, clothes, and toys for him. Our house can barely fit it all. He was practically dying to take the child to his big manor for a few days.

"If I didn’t know the truth, I’d really think the kid was the Grant family’s grandson."

"..."

Caroline turned her head and wiped away some sweat, thinking, ’He *is* the Grant family’s grandson.’

"Alright, since you’ve hired a private tutor for him, I’ll let his parents know. But you should send me the tutor’s information so I can look it over first."

"I’ll send it to you right away. You can tell them not to worry, the kid can stay with me for as long as they want."

"..."

If she had known Franklin Whitman would be this accepting, she wouldn’t have been so secretive back then.

But this was a good opportunity. She decided to test the waters:

"Dad, if I also had a child like Ryan... would you and Mom be okay with that?"

"That’d be even better! Now that I’m retired, I can even help you two watch the baby."

The gears in Franklin Whitman’s mind turned. "Hey, wait a second. Are you and Adrian Grant getting serious?"

She touched her nose. "We’re... getting there, I guess."

She planned to lay all her cards on the table once their relationship was official.

Franklin Whitman’s eyes narrowed as he stroked his chin, scrutinizing her for a moment. "You’re not hiding anything from us, are you?

"Let me be clear. Getting pregnant before marriage is out of the question.

"Not only will I not allow it, your mother won’t allow it either!"

"Dad, what are you talking about? It’s not like that. Anyway, I have to go to a meeting."

Caroline immediately left Franklin Whitman’s office.

Before the meeting, she hesitated for a moment, then sent Adrian Grant a text telling him that Franklin Whitman had hired a tutor for the child for the time being.

She also forwarded the tutor’s information and qualifications.

Only after her meeting did she notice that Adrian Grant had already replied: [Okay, I got it. Are you coming back tonight?]

Caroline froze, not expecting him to ask so directly.

Where "back" was went without saying.

It was, of course, Golden Crest Manor, where they lived together.

Caroline had checked the security camera footage that morning. He had returned to Golden Crest Manor last night and had also left early this morning.

Realizing what she’d done, she felt like a total creep.

She typed, deleted, and retyped, finally tapping out a line: [Do you want me to come back?]

But she hadn’t expected that the moment the message was sent, a call from Adrian Grant came in simultaneously.

Her heart began to pound a little faster. When she answered, before she could even say anything, the man’s low voice came through the receiver:

"Are you coming back on your own, or should I pick you up after work?"

Though his tone was so gentle, she somehow detected a non-negotiable, forceful undercurrent.

Caroline’s heart sank. She had a bad feeling that some kind of "surprise package" was waiting for her, and the courage she had just mustered suddenly dissipated.

Her tongue nearly tied itself in a knot. "I’m... on a business trip. I won’t be back for now."

There were two seconds of silence on the other end. "Okay. For how many days?"

"A week."

"A week is too long. Three days."

"..."