Eleanor Winslow looked at Adrian Grant in disbelief, stammering a bit, "You know... you said forced... three years ago, it wasn’t me who schemed against you, you know?"
Adrian Grant knelt between her legs, giving her a definitive answer, "Yes."
He gazed into Eleanor Winslow’s almond eyes, his voice slow and clear, "It’s me who wants to marry you, Eleanor."
Eleanor Winslow’s mind went blank, taking several seconds to react.
"You, you..." Eleanor wanted to challenge him, wanted to say it was impossible.
But if Adrian Grant wasn’t willing to marry her, who could possibly force him?
If it was the elders in the family suggesting it, Old Madam Grant indeed liked her, but Adrian Grant’s mother Selene Keane completely disagreed with her marrying Adrian Grant. If Adrian Grant didn’t want to marry her, he could have easily used Selene Keane as an excuse, why let her hold a grudge for years?
"So do you still think I’d let you leave?"
Adrian Grant’s smile carried a hint of shadow.
The light from the streetlamp shone through the window, reflecting the man’s obsession and possessiveness in his eyes.
"Why?" Eleanor couldn’t understand, "Why did you propose to marry me?"
Adults rolling in bed is normal. The Winslow Family’s influence can’t compete with the Grant Family, even if it had been discovered three years ago, The Winslow Family wouldn’t make the unreasonable demand for Adrian Grant to take responsibility, nor would Eleanor herself.
Adrian watched the face of the person beneath him, radiant and exquisite, her almond eyes were clear but puzzled.
"What do you think, Zia?" Adrian asked in response.
"Because I’m still a decent Mrs. Grant, able to help you deal with Grandpa and Grandma."
Adrian squinted, clearly not very pleased.
"But Adrian Grant, I’m not your puppet, I have emotional needs, my ideal partner—" Eleanor raised her eyes to look at him, recalling his previous words, her voice became somewhat indifferent, "isn’t like you."
"Then what is it like?" Adrian’s fingertips slid across Eleanor’s cheek and chin, reaching her neck, full of desire and danger, "Like Jonah Grant? Or Julian Jacobs?"
Eleanor couldn’t understand why Adrian suddenly mentioned Jonah, who had passed away years ago, she didn’t want to answer, "That’s my business."
None of your business.
Adrian sneered, "Eleanor, Julian Jacobs has heart disease, how many years can he live? After careful selection, you still choose someone with a short lifespan?"
Eleanor’s eyes flared with anger, "It’s not their fault their health isn’t perfect, nor should it be your reason to attack them!" ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚑𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥
Adrian realized Eleanor hadn’t deliberately mentioned Jonah Grant, but subconsciously she was thinking of him.
Not healthy, isn’t that Jonah?
Dying young, isn’t that Jonah?
Julian Jacobs, isn’t he just like Jonah?
"Zia Winslow, you like Jonah Grant so much?" Adrian suppressed the shadow in his eyes, "Is he so good? They like him, you like him too."
Eleanor’s mind puzzled over who ’they’ were, but with anger consuming her, she didn’t bother asking Adrian.
"Yes! Brother Jonah is gentle and patient, liking him isn’t easy?"
Like has many forms, what Eleanor referred to was admiration from a sister to a brother.
But for Adrian, like is just like, who cares about types?
He heard a confirmed answer: she likes Jonah Grant.
She doesn’t like him.
Adrian fixated on Eleanor, his gaze darkening like an abyss, difficult to see through, impossible to touch, danger running deep.
Eleanor sensed his mood worsening quickly and met his gaze head-on defiantly.
Adrian unexpectedly laughed aloud, but there wasn’t any mirth in his eyes.
"So what if you like him?" The man’s thin lips parted lightly, pinching Eleanor’s jaw, lowering his head to give her an incredibly gentle kiss, but saying, "My Zia, you’re only Mrs. Adrian Grant."
Three years ago you were.
Three years later you will be.
Thirty years later, three hundred years later, too.
Live in the same room, buried in the same grave.
"Adrian Grant, didn’t you agree to our divorce before?" Eleanor reminded him.
"Adrian Grant, were you lying to me then?"
Eleanor finally understood, no wonder he had been procrastinating, the procedures were never done!
Adrian’s body intimately pressed against hers, he smiled with satisfaction, "Zia is very smart."
Eleanor was livid with his shameless and stubborn attitude, wanting to push him away, her hands again held captive.
Adrian picked up his phone to call Charles Rhodes to drive them back to Azurean Bay.
"Adrian Grant! I want to go home!"
Eleanor didn’t want to go to Azurean Bay.
The man sat up straight, ignored the creases in his shirt, slowly arranging Eleanor’s clothes, saying, "Azurean Bay is your home."
"I have my own home!"
"Eleanor, I’m your husband, your spouse section has my name, where I am is your home."
Eleanor thought Adrian Grant was crazy.
Eleanor tried to open the car door, but the back door was already locked, her hands still in a semi-disabled state, unable to do anything but watch the scenery outside gradually turn into familiar Azurean Bay views.
The Rolls-Royce stopped outside the villa.
"Not willing to get out?" Adrian asked the motionless Eleanor, seated without expression, speaking kindly, "I can carry you."
Eleanor glared at him fiercely, ultimately stepping out of the car.
She couldn’t just sit in the car all night.
Moreover, Adrian was indeed capable of carrying her into the villa!
Eleanor thought of calling Blake Lockwood, but remembering Blake was probably with Trevor Hawthorne, decided not to disturb.
"Eleanor, if you get sick from the cold out here, you’ll be even less able to be upset with me," Adrian reminded Eleanor unwilling to enter the house.
Eleanor couldn’t even call a cab to leave because Azurean Bay is Aethelgard’s most upscale villa area. Each household here drives themselves or has drivers, taxis barely pass through here.
Eleanor thought, for now, just get through tonight! Maybe after tonight, Adrian Grant’s crazy mind would return to normal.
No idea what madness he has tonight!
After being away for two months, the interior of the villa was unchanged from the day Eleanor left, as if the house really belonged to her, only changing due to her presence.
"I’m not sleeping in the same room as you," Eleanor coldly stated her demand.
Adrian said, while taking off his coat, "No."
Eleanor took a deep breath, controlling her emotions, "Adrian Grant, let’s speak reasonably, we’re discussing divorce right now, I have the right to ask to sleep separately."
Adrian corrected her, "No ’we’."