The mechanical tone of a call being disconnected echoed from the receiver.
Adrian Grant gripped his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Adrian..." Mia Winslow had followed Adrian Grant, watching the empty hospital room and noticing his extremely unpleasant expression.
She had pretended her hand was uncomfortable and came here for a check-up because she knew Eleanor Winslow was at this hospital.
Seeing Adrian leave Eleanor to accompany her for the check-up was not surprising to her; it filled her heart with sweetness.
However, she hadn’t expected Adrian to leave immediately upon learning her hand was fine!
"Didn’t you say you’d keep an eye on her?" Adrian didn’t acknowledge Mia, instead casting a cold glance at Charles Rhodes.
"Mrs. Grant said she wanted tea, so I went to buy it, and..." Charles lowered his head in shame, "I wasn’t cautious enough. I just asked a nurse and it seems Miss Lockwood came to take her away."
"Adrian, Eleanor and Miss Lockwood are close, with Miss Lockwood taking Eleanor, you don’t need to worry too much." Mia Winslow offered a forced smile of comfort.
Adrian’s concern for Eleanor had surpassed her expectations.
Mia continued, "Eleanor has had her own ideas since she was young. When she doesn’t want to listen, no one can control her."
The implication was that Eleanor was disobedient, inconsiderate, and self-centered.
After speaking, Mia observed Adrian. He was fixated on Eleanor’s empty hospital bed, making her suspect he hadn’t heard a word she said.
"Mia, I’ll have someone escort you home." Adrian said, giving Charles a glance.
Charles immediately contacted a driver.
"Adrian, you haven’t had dinner yet, right? How about I treat you to a meal!" Mia saw the untouched food in the room, "I haven’t eaten either."
She didn’t want to leave directly.
Adrian glanced at Charles.
"Miss Winslow, this way please." Charles gestured politely to Mia.
Mia’s eyes brimmed with tears, feeling extremely wronged.
She had lost face at both the auction and Old Madam Grant’s birthday banquet, now Adrian was ignoring her because of Eleanor. The reason she lost face was also because of Eleanor!
Mia felt a swell of indescribable anger rise within her.
It’s one thing for Adrian to ignore her, but why wasn’t Charles personally escorting her?
Following Charles downstairs, the driver was already waiting below.
"Special Assistant Rhodes, I’m not familiar with others, can you escort me personally?" Mia’s rational mind told her not to be so willful, but she couldn’t control her impulses.
Charles was slightly taken aback but quickly regained composure, replying calmly, "Miss Winslow, my job revolves around President Grant. Since he’s still in the hospital, it’s inconvenient for me to escort you."
Mia’s hands clenched subconsciously at her sides, questioning, "What if Eleanor needed you to escort her today?"
Charles smiled, "Miss Winslow, considering status, Mrs. Grant has the right to direct me."
Mia flushed with anger and humiliation.
Compared to Eleanor, wasn’t it simply because she lacked the title of Mrs. Grant!
No, she absolutely couldn’t sit idly by any longer!
Watching Mia’s car drive away, Charles’s trademark smile disappeared from his face.
He used to think Mia was decent; while inherently proud, she treated people courteously outwardly. Now it seemed she could barely maintain the façade!
Eleanor’s burn wound was scabbing, but with exposure to water, it needed to be disinfected and re-bandaged again.
The doctor repeatedly reminded her to avoid water.
Eleanor obediently agreed, but Blake Lockwood remained worried and decided not to return home for the next few days, staying with Eleanor instead.
"It’s really okay, if you keep staying out late, Young Master Hawthorne will have complaints." Eleanor felt she was interrupting Blake Lockwood’s marital life.
"He’s been out late for three or four months and I haven’t said a word, what right does he have to complain?" Blake was indifferent.
Plastic spouses tended to dictate each other’s lives—wasn’t that overstepping?
The two returned to Eleanor’s apartment, close to midnight.
The elevator doors opened.
Eleanor smelled a strong scent of tobacco wafting through the corridor; she and Blake were talking, suddenly pausing.
Adrian stood at her doorstep, cigarette in hand, tall and imposing.
His gaze lingered on Eleanor for two seconds, glanced at Blake, then returned to Eleanor.
The property management was so incompetent, letting unrelated personnel inside!
Eleanor thought about filing a complaint.
She didn’t want to speak to Adrian, but he was by her door, preventing her from unlocking it!
The two faced each other, separated by mere meters, in a tense standoff. Googlᴇ search NoveI(F)ire.net
Until Eleanor couldn’t bear the smoke any longer, coughing twice abruptly, prompting Adrian to extinguish his cigarette, tossing the butt into the trash.
He strode forward, "Eleanor, let’s talk."
Eleanor was resistant, "I only want to talk to your lawyer."
As Adrian approached Eleanor, Blake stepped forward, blocking her.
Blake’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, "President Grant, didn’t you hear? Why are you making it difficult?"
"Does Miss Lockwood enjoy meddling in other people’s marital affairs?" Adrian was usually courteous to Blake Lockwood—with today being an exception.
He spoke while glancing at Blake twice; the rest of the time, his focus remained on Eleanor.
Blake crossed her arms, laughing softly, "Of course not. I only like meddling in Eleanor’s affairs, and coincidentally, you’re currently her husband. If you weren’t, where would meddling in her affairs touch upon you?"
If you don’t want meddling, you can divorce!
Adrian clenched his molars.
Tsk, why wasn’t Trevor Hawthorne caring if his wife stayed out?!
"Young Master Grant, step aside, we’re heading home." Blake urged impatiently.
Eleanor sensed the man’s persistent gaze, returning her look to him, "Adrian Grant, until your lawyer appears, I don’t think we have anything to discuss."
"Eleanor, you should remain hospitalized for observation for two more days." Adrian extended a hand to Eleanor, appearing cooperative, "Once you’re fully recovered, if you want to return here, I’ll bring you back."
Eleanor’s forearm wound subtly ached.
She looked at him calmly, her voice lacking warmth, "I know my own body and how to care for myself, you needn’t concern yourself."
Caring for someone? Go care for Mia Winslow!
Adrian laughed in frustration, his surrounding presence becoming sharper.
"Eleanor, then what do you make of last night?"
"Do grown adults require responsibility after sharing a bed?" Eleanor laughed too, "Young Master Grant, hypothetically, mutual consent without financial ties and during marriage—is there any problem with last night?"