Third Aunt Grant was startled as she looked at Adrian Grant, unable to process his attitude. Weren’t they discussing their divorce? Why was Adrian still asking Charles Rhodes to pick up Eleanor Winslow? It must, it must be because of Adrian’s filial piety to the old lady, letting Eleanor serve her, it has to be that! As Third Aunt Grant was comforting herself with these thoughts, she saw Adrian walk towards Eleanor and, without warning, grasp her hand and lift it to examine it closely. His gaze fell on Eleanor’s wrist, noticing the fully healed scabs, some of which were starting to peel off. His actions were careful. Just moments before, the boastful Third Aunt Grant immediately shut her mouth, feeling a residual fear, not daring to look at Adrian. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel~fire~net Everyone was peering at this sudden scene, glancing at Eleanor, then at Adrian, filled with questions. This didn’t look like they were getting a divorce! Could the news have been wrong? "Aren’t you two—ugh!" Before the words ’getting a divorce’ could be uttered, Second Aunt Grant swiftly covered her ill-fated daughter’s mouth. Was this something that could be said carelessly? With Adrian showing such attentive care, how could they casually mention divorce?! Jeanette Grant felt utterly innocent after her mother shut her mouth with a warning look and a firm hand. Eleanor also found the atmosphere somewhat delicate, pulling her hand out of his large one. "What are you doing?" "Checking your injury," Adrian replied bluntly. Eleanor: "..." I know you’re looking at my injury, I’m not blind! A few days ago, Old Madam Grant hadn’t rested well and today she had gone to sleep and hadn’t woken up. The other members of the Grant Family had gradually left, and Eleanor had promised Old Madam Grant she would stay with her, so she sat on the sofa, leaning back for a nap. Half-asleep and half-awake, she suddenly felt her body become lighter. Eleanor awoke startled, and before she could struggle, she was hugged even tighter into the other party’s embrace. "There’s a guest room nearby." Adrian said as he carried Eleanor to the guest room nearby. "Let me go!" Eleanor struggled to get down. "Serves you right if you fall." Adrian threatened her, then deliberately tossed her upward a little. Her body instinctively grabbed onto Adrian’s neck, steadying herself midair. "Adrian Grant, you bastard!" The man caught her securely, a smile suppressed in his eyes, then placed Eleanor on the bed, signaling her to sleep. The guest room was a temporary resting room prepared for this VIP suite, quite small, only twenty square meters. In this semi-enclosed space, it was so quiet it seemed as if the two could hear each other’s breathing. Adrian lowered Eleanor to the bed, maintaining a bent posture, his gaze fixed intently on her. Eleanor stubbornly stared back at him, unwilling to look away, as if whoever looked away first would lose. In the next moment, Eleanor suddenly reached towards the man’s chest, pushing him away. Unprepared, Adrian was pushed back a few steps by Eleanor. Eleanor didn’t want to be alone with Adrian, at least not in a place so... unsafe. She got up to leave, and from behind came Adrian’s voice: Eleanor almost immediately realized who he was referring to. She turned around: "With President Grant’s ability, if you really wanted to know, someone probably already placed his resume on your desk." Adrian walked closer, stopping before Eleanor: "I’m asking, what’s his relationship with you?" Eleanor chuckled softly: "A relationship between a senior and a junior, shouldn’t you already know that?" Adrian narrowed his eyes dangerously, the air pressure around him suddenly dropped. Eleanor recalled that when she first mentioned divorce to Adrian, she had said she already had a new love, a senior. What a coincidence... But since she and Adrian were going to divorce, and with the divorce papers already signed, she saw no need to explain her private affairs to her soon-to-be ex-husband, lest it seem like she feared Adrian’s misunderstanding. Old Madam Grant awoke in the middle of the night. When she woke, Eleanor was asleep on the sofa, and Adrian was sitting on a single-seat sofa beside her, looking at documents. Although he was said to be reviewing documents, the papers in his hands remained unmoved, his attention wholly on the woman resting her head on the sofa. Old Madam Grant, supported by a caregiver, walked over and gave her beloved grandson’s shoulder a slap, speaking in a lowered voice: "What’s the matter with you?" As she spoke, her eyes gestured in Eleanor’s direction. The implication was, how could he let her precious granddaughter-in-law doze off here and exhaust herself! Just as Adrian was about to speak, Eleanor woke up at the sound, and upon seeing Old Madam Grant, she immediately became fully awake. "Sweetie, why are you sleeping here?" Old Madam Grant touched Eleanor’s hair, feeling anguished. "I was worried that if you woke up and didn’t see me, you’d throw a tantrum and refuse to eat or sleep properly," Eleanor teasingly chided her with a smile. Old Madam Grant affectionately nodded at Eleanor, then turned to Adrian: "Don’t you have a small place nearby? Send Eleanor there for the night, bring her back tomorrow to keep me company!" After she finished speaking, she remembered and asked: "Eleanor, it’s Saturday tomorrow, you’re not working, right? Are you free? I feel bad asking you to take time to accompany me..." By the end, Old Madam Grant lowered her head in sorrow. Eleanor’s mouth twitched, sensing that Old Madam Grant was somewhat acting, yet didn’t have the heart to expose her, and she nodded: "I’m free tomorrow, Grandma, no trouble at all." No need to act so earnestly. Adrian had a large flat nearby, but it had only one bedroom; the other rooms were converted into a study and gym. Adrian rarely came here, the interior devoid of any signs of life, but the housekeeping was meticulous, the air spotless, bed sheets and covers were neatly arranged. Entering the room, Eleanor heard a ’bang’ of the door closing behind her, shut by Adrian who had followed her in. Eleanor looked at him, filled with questions: "?" Adrian gave her an inexplicable look, opened the shoe cabinet, and took out slippers. "You..." Eleanor questioned, "Why didn’t you leave?" Adrian replied naturally, "Aren’t I resting?" "..." Eleanor was speechless, "President Grant, your personal lawyer brought me the divorce agreement, do you remember?" Her use of the formal ’you’ echoed with sarcasm. Adrian ’hummed’ a reply, looking into Eleanor’s beautiful almond eyes, half-smiling: "I’ll sleep on the sofa, what are you thinking?" Eleanor felt he was doing it on purpose, yet she had no evidence! Leaning against the wall, she chuckled lightly: "I was wondering, President Grant, isn’t it a bit pathetic to have only one place to stay? Insisting on the sofa." He should definitely leave! Adrian didn’t show the slightest anger, instead asking: "Then if I sleep on the bed, would you agree?" This implied that Eleanor would be sleeping on the bed, and he was respecting her choice, seeking her consent. Of course Eleanor wouldn’t agree, they were about to divorce! The episode at the old residence was already a late-night impulsive folly, never to be repeated! Eleanor shut the room door, locked it for caution, then went to wash up. In the middle of the night. A draft breezed through, bringing a chill. Adrian quietly opened the bedroom door, entering inside. The woman lay on the right side of the double bed, a sleeping habit of hers, as if deliberately leaving space on the left just for him. Her eyelashes were long and curled, her nose delicately high, her small mouth habitually pouting softly. Her body slightly curled, skin like cream, resembling a treasure.