The girls finally showed awkwardness on their faces.
The socialite continued, "Oriental women just love eavesdropping!"
Eleanor Winslow innocently shrugged, looking around at the empty surroundings, "There’s no cover on this deck, how could I eavesdrop? Miss, you point out that I’m an Oriental woman, are you being racist?"
Racial discrimination in the Western world is a label everyone can attack, the socialite turned pale instantly and didn’t dare to speak again.
Everyone then realized that Eleanor Winslow, though seemingly gentle, was not a pushover.
Zoe Nash smiled to smooth things over for her friend, saying that Eastern and Western cultures differ and no harm was meant.
Whether harm is intended has nothing to do with cultural differences, but Eleanor was too lazy to argue with Zoe.
She asked, "Miss Nash, may I ask how old you are this year?"
"Twenty-two," Zoe Nash looked puzzled, "Why is Miss Winslow asking?"
Eleanor Winslow smiled, "It’s nothing."
Zoe Nash was the same age as her.
She had suspected Zoe Nash might be related to her mother, the worst-case scenario being that Zoe was also her mother’s daughter. But Zoe and she were the same age, making it impossible for her mother to have conceived two children simultaneously.
Zoe Nash suddenly remembered something, checked the time on her phone, and told her companions, "My mommy is waiting for me in the room, I need to go, I’ll come back later to hang out!"
Zoe Nash then turned to Eleanor Winslow, "Miss Winslow, nice to meet you! Goodbye!"
Eleanor Winslow furrowed her brows.
She instantly remembered that tightly closed door and the woman who kept her outside.
Eleanor Winslow shook her head, telling herself not to overthink, such coincidences don’t happen.
The cruise would return the next day after setting sail, the guests stayed overnight on the ship.
The party wasn’t over, but Eleanor went back to the suite to rest early.
The nightmare struck again.
In her dream, Zoe Nash’s face and the closed door kept flashing in her mind, the woman in the emerald green gown gradually transformed into her young mother’s figure, a young girl rushing into her mother’s arms, no matter how Eleanor called and pleaded, her mother walked farther and farther away, unreachable.
Eleanor seemed to fall into an abyss, the more she struggled, the deeper she sank.
In a daze, she suddenly felt a hand reaching over—
Eleanor woke up with a start, a scream was about to escape her throat but was stifled by a hand over her mouth.
"Shh! The window’s open, the neighbors can hear."
The man’s palm covered her lips, the moonlight streaming through the window, in the dim light, Eleanor saw Adrian Grant pressing half his weight onto her, his lips resting on the back of his own hand.
It was like they were kissing through his palm, filled with extreme longing, yet restrained.
A tear rolled down from the corner of Eleanor’s eye.
Before she could react to what it was, Adrian lowered his head first, turning sideways to gently kiss away the tears at her eye corner.
Adrian Grant spoke, his body reeked heavily of alcohol.
It had the scent of whiskey and wine, perhaps he had mixed drinks.
Eleanor nudged him, he wouldn’t budge, and just as her mouth was freed she accused, "You’re crushing me!"
His tone sounded like he was saying, ’I crushed you on purpose’.
Eleanor came to her senses, the earlier sadness on her opened eyes was gone, leaving only indifference.
Adrian Grant lightly brushed her eyelids again, asking, "What was the dream about? Hm?"
"I’ve forgotten." Eleanor struggled to push him.
Adrian’s body didn’t move an inch, the hint of gentleness on his face vanished, his eyes turned deep black, and his voice deepened.
"Zia Winslow, you’ve been since childhood."
"Telling Jonah Grant everything, keeping me in the dark." Adrian Grant pinched Eleanor’s chin with one hand, "Do you dislike me that much?"
Without waiting for Eleanor to speak, he suddenly kissed her lips and said tenderly, "So what if you don’t like me? Hm?"
So what if you don’t like me?
You still became my wife!
The man seemed addicted to kissing, pecking her lips again and again, the action intentionally hinting at more possession than a deep kiss did.
Eleanor turned her face away, trying to avoid his kisses.
This action, however, angered Adrian Grant, who grabbed her face and forced a deep kiss.
"Adrian Grant!" Eleanor seized the opportunity to say angrily, "You’re drunk!"
If it weren’t to avoid disgrace overseas, Eleanor would’ve pressed the bedside bell right then, called the steward to drag Adrian Grant into the bathroom to splash him with cold water to sober up! The rıghtful source is novel•fire.net
In the dim light, the man chuckled low, the resonance through their tightly pressed bodies was clear to Eleanor.
"Eleanor Winslow, if I really were drunk," the man paused, lips nearing her fragile, sensitive neck, "I would have already stripped you and had my way—"
Not heavily, but the slap’s sound was particularly harsh in the silence.
In the darkness, the woman’s gaze was extremely cold.
She was genuinely angry.
The man stiffened for two seconds, rolled away, sat on the bed with his back to Eleanor, calming his breath, seemingly sulking.
Eleanor immediately got out of bed, putting on a coat, standing a meter away from Adrian Grant, her face showing anger and unrelenting fright.
They had not shared a bed in recent times, even yesterday at the hotel, Adrian conscientiously slept in a separate room.
There were many spare rooms on the ship, Eleanor thought tonight would be the same.
Unexpectedly, Adrian Grant directly got on the bed!
"Adrian Grant, what do you take me for? A tool for your lust? I requested a divorce and you didn’t cooperate, now even intimacy has to be forced?"
Her earlier physical gestures had clearly indicated refusal!
"Sorry," the man suddenly said.
Eleanor looked at him in shock, suspecting her ears had betrayed her, mishearing him.
Adrian Grant turned his head to look at her, his superior profile particularly attractive under the moonlight, his eyes carried a trace of desolation.
"I didn’t mean it just now," Adrian said, "I lost control."
That explanation was worse than none!
Eleanor laughed in exasperation, "Are you trying to tell me it’s just drunken behavior? Men claim impotence when drunk, all lies!"
Adrian didn’t correct her, even if they had truly engaged in relations, it wouldn’t relate one bit to ’drunken behavior’.
He sighed, hidden in his resignation was a hint of self-mockery, saying, "Zia, I am upset."
"You’re upset? What do you have to be upset about? You vent your anger on me when you’re upset? Did I provoke you?"
Adrian Grant closed his eyes, let out a ridiculing smile, the short laugh quickly disappearing into the sound of the waves, like an auditory illusion.
"Eleanor, the person who grew up with you isn’t only Jonah Grant but me too. I am your husband, when can you put me ahead of him?"