Chapter 442 - 445: A Subtle Probing Game

It was a winter afternoon. A cold wind skimmed across the short grass of the golf course. The tips of the blades were coated in a fine layer of white frost, and a crisp chill hung in the air.

The only sounds were the whistling of the wind and the faint rumble of a golf cart’s wheels in the distance.

Adrian Lancaster and Wren Sutton had been separated for several days.

Rumors were flying. The Lancaster family had deliberately leaked information that was now fermenting online, with everyone saying the couple’s relationship had fallen apart.

For the past few days, Adrian Lancaster had reined in his sharp edge. He appeared sullen and withdrawn to the public, a weary coldness settled deep in his eyes. He looked for all the world like a man emotionally crushed and in low spirits.

A black SUV pulled into the golf course parking lot, and Adrian Lancaster got out, alone.

He wore a dark turtleneck under a matte black golf jacket, his trousers impeccably creased. His figure was tall and straight, yet he exuded an unmistakable air of loneliness.

He had no caddie with him. Carrying his own golf bag, he walked to the tee box alone. His fingers rested lightly on a club, his movements slow and leisurely. Gone was his usual ruthless decisiveness; his expression was overlaid with a faint, cold weariness.

In the distance, an inconspicuous white sedan was parked.

Claire Bennett sat inside, the window lowered just a finger’s width. Her gaze was locked firmly on the man in the distance, taking in his solitary, lonely figure.

A very faint smile touched the corners of Claire Bennett’s lips.

She leisurely smoothed down her cream-colored knit suit. Her hair was styled in a soft, low bun. She had shed her sharp edges, deliberately dressing in a gentle, elegant, and completely non-threatening manner.

She adjusted her expression in the rearview mirror, suppressing all the greed and calculation in her eyes, leaving only the demure tenderness of a shy woman.

Pushing the car door open, she let the cold wind brush against the tips of her hair. She deliberately slowed her pace, feigning a chance encounter as if she were just passing by, and walked step-by-step toward the tee box.

As she drew near, she looked up at the perfect moment, a soft, surprised smile gracing her face.

"President Lancaster, what a coincidence. I never expected you’d be out here playing golf by yourself on such a cold day."

As the words left her lips, Claire Bennett held her breath. Her fingertips tightened unconsciously, and the hand hidden behind her back quietly clenched into a fist. Her heart was filled with a nervous, expectant probing.

On their past few encounters, Adrian Lancaster had always been as cold as ice to her, showing no mercy and refusing to exchange more than a few words...

Adrian Lancaster’s hand, gripping the golf club, paused slightly. He slowly looked up.

Before, the sight of Claire Bennett would have instantly brought a bone-deep annoyance to his eyes. His brows would have furrowed in unconcealed aversion, and he might have even turned and walked away.

But now, his dark eyes merely swept over her. There was no frown, no coldness. The disgust was gone, replaced by a flat indifference.

His voice was deep and cool, devoid of any emotional fluctuation as he uttered a single word, "Yeah."

One word. Mild, detached, and unenthusiastic, but no longer hostile. It broke the stalemate of their past encounters.

An intense wave of secret delight surged through Claire Bennett’s chest. The weight that had been hanging over her heart for so long came crashing down. She couldn’t hide the smug satisfaction deep in her eyes as the corners of her lips curled up uncontrollably.

But she quickly forced it down, not daring to let it show too obviously.

Claire Bennett’s mind raced. ’It’s true. Adrian Lancaster and Wren Sutton really are separated. A crack has formed between them.’

’If I just take this chance to get close and offer some gentle comfort, I can pry open his defenses step-by-step and take Wren Sutton’s place.’

As these thoughts churned, Claire Bennett took a small step forward, her posture growing even more gentle and considerate. She softly ventured an invitation.

"It’s too dreary to play alone, and it’s so cold out. You must be lonely. President Lancaster, if you don’t mind, how about I join you for a round?"

Claire Bennett was prepared for a polite refusal and had even planned her response.

To her complete surprise, Adrian Lancaster was silent for two seconds. His gaze fixed on the course ahead, and in that same flat, emotionless tone, he nodded and said two words, "All right."

Hearing this, a joyful light sparked in Claire Bennett’s eyes. She could barely contain the ecstasy in her heart. Her cheeks flushed, and even her breathing became a little lighter.

She forced herself to remain calm and agreed with feigned composure.

Then, Claire Bennett picked up an unused club from the side. She deliberately slowed her movements, her posture stiff and awkward, and settled into a clumsy, unpracticed preparatory swing stance.

She was feigning the appearance of someone who didn’t know how to play golf at all.

She turned to Adrian Lancaster with an innocent, helpless look, her voice tinged with a plea for help.

"President Lancaster, this is embarrassing. I haven’t played in so long that I’ve gotten this rusty. I don’t know how to put power into it, and my form is all wrong. Would you mind... teaching me a little?"

The woman blinked, deliberately softening her posture, her mind consumed with plans to use this opportunity to close the distance with Adrian Lancaster.

Even just a brief moment of close proximity could create an ambiguous atmosphere and test his boundaries.

Claire Bennett was certain that Adrian Lancaster, his heart softened and defenses lowered, would most likely step forward like a gentleman and correct her form, hand-on-hand.

All it would take was one instance of physical contact, and she could latch onto him.

This was the ambiguous opportunity she had meticulously engineered.

But Adrian Lancaster remained rooted to the spot, not moving a single step, maintaining a safe, neither-too-close-nor-too-far social distance from Claire Bennett.

"Align your feet with the ball line, stand with them shoulder-width apart. Keep your knees slightly bent and relaxed. Your back should be naturally straight, don’t let it sag. Lock your shoulders, keep your wrists steady and don’t let them wobble. Backswing with a smooth shoulder turn, and on the downswing, apply force smoothly and follow through along the curve of the ball."

He hadn’t refused Claire Bennett’s request, but he also hadn’t stepped forward to teach her hand-on-hand. Instead, he remained where he was, giving verbal instructions.

The helpless smile on Claire Bennett’s face froze for a second. A flicker of imperceptible disappointment and astonishment crossed her eyes as her secret hope silently vanished.

She hadn’t expected this. Adrian Lancaster’s attitude seemed to have softened, and he was no longer deliberately pushing her away, yet he was still rigidly defending his boundaries, refusing to cross the line in the slightest, not giving her even a sliver of an opportunity to get close.

But she didn’t dare show any displeasure. She could only quickly suppress her disappointment and immediately put on a docile, proper smile, nodding obediently and pretending to listen intently and absorb his advice.

"I’ve got it. Thank you, President Lancaster."

Claire Bennett lowered her head and got into position, her gaze secretly tracing the man’s cold, handsome profile as thoughts churned in her mind.

’It’s okay. No rush.’

’Adrian Lancaster is willing to talk to me, willing to let me stay by his side. That’s the biggest breakthrough already.’

’Boundaries can be worn down slowly. The distance can be closed, little by little.’

’One day, I’ll be able to break through all his defenses and replace Wren Sutton.’

The wind was bleak, and the dead grass on the lawn glinted with a cold, white frost.

Adrian Lancaster remained indifferent, treading carefully with every step.

Claire Bennett feigned docility, hiding her greed.

A silent game of probing and maneuvering had only just begun.

...

After receiving Adrian Lancaster’s verbal instructions, Claire Bennett suppressed her disappointment and adjusted her posture according to his directions.

She slowed her movements, her fingers gripping the club, her shoulders a little too tense. Though she could have performed the action perfectly well, she deliberately made it look crooked and awkward.

When she swung, her force was off, and the ball only rolled a short distance, not even making it halfway down the fairway.

"It’s still no good. I’m so clumsy, I just can’t seem to learn," Claire Bennett muttered softly, a note of grievance in her voice.

She looked down at the ground, her eyelashes trembling, looking frustrated and helpless.

Inwardly, she hoped Adrian Lancaster’s heart would soften and he would step forward, even if only to touch her arm and correct her stance.

Adrian Lancaster’s calm gaze remained on the fairway ahead, ignoring Claire Bennett’s clumsiness.

"Practice a couple more times. You’ll find the right point to apply force. No need to rush." His tone was faint, without a ripple of emotion.

After speaking, he walked to his own teeing position, standing tall and straight. He raised his hand, gripped the club, and moved with fluid precision.

His back was straight, his shoulders level. The backswing, exertion of force, and follow-through were all one seamless motion.

The white golf ball cut a clean arc through the air, flying toward the distant green.

The sunlight fell on him, coating him in a faint halo of light.

"President Lancaster, you’re amazing! That was incredible! You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen play golf." Claire Bennett clapped from the side, watching Adrian Lancaster with infatuation, her eyes practically sparkling with hearts.

Adrian Lancaster remained unmoved, his expression blank.

Claire Bennett tightened her grip on her club and followed closely behind him as he walked.

Along the way, she constantly tried to strike up a conversation, sometimes bringing up old memories, other times pretending to be concerned about his current situation.

Her words were laced with an attempt at intimacy, trying to break the silent, distant atmosphere.

Adrian Lancaster gave noncommittal responses, neither initiating conversation nor engaging with Claire Bennett’s overly familiar remarks.

His tone was flat, his eyes clear. There wasn’t a hint of ambiguity, let alone a trace of being moved.

No matter what Claire Bennett said, he would only give a placid response—neither cold nor warm. He maintained the perfect distance.

Claire Bennett wasn’t ready to give up.

At the next tee box, she intentionally messed up again. Frowning, she looked at Adrian Lancaster with a wronged expression and pleaded softly once more.

"President Lancaster, please just come over and help me fix my form, okay? I really can’t get the feel for it. If this keeps up, I’m going to hold up your game."

She tilted her head up, a plea in her eyes, and subconsciously leaned her body forward, trying to close the distance between them.

Adrian Lancaster glanced up at Claire Bennett. His gaze was placid and didn’t waver, but he still showed no intention of stepping forward to teach her.

"Make your stance a bit steadier, put your weight on your front foot. Don’t force the swing, just let it happen naturally."

Claire Bennett’s gesture faltered. Her hopes were dashed once again, and the smile on her lips stiffened.

The hand hanging by her side quietly clenched, her nails digging into her palm. A wave of irritation rose in her heart, but she didn’t dare let it show.

"Okay, I’ll try again. Thank you for the guidance, President Lancaster."

Though she spoke words of thanks, her heart was in turmoil.

For the rest of the game, Claire Bennett continued to test him step by step, sometimes pretending to be out of breath and slowing her pace, other times deliberately misspeaking to get Adrian Lancaster’s attention.

Adrian Lancaster remained composed and calm the entire time, keeping a measured distance from Claire Bennett—not too close, not too far; not too cold, not too warm.

The game ended with Adrian Lancaster’s final shot.

The setting sun dyed the winter clouds a pale orange. The cold wind felt even sharper as it swept scraps of grass from the course past their feet.

Adrian Lancaster casually handed his club to a caddie who had hurried over, his expression still as placid as ever.

There was none of the satisfaction that comes after a game of golf; instead, he exuded a faint, almost imperceptible weariness.

Claire Bennett looked at the tall, straight figure of the man beside her. Her heart began to beat faster. After a moment’s deliberation, she took a step forward.

"President Lancaster, thank you so much for today. I’m very grateful that you took the time to teach me how to play."

"To show my gratitude, let me treat you to dinner."

After she spoke, her heart beat even faster. She waited with nervous anticipation, terrified that Adrian Lancaster would refuse.

Adrian Lancaster was silent for a few seconds. He glanced up at Claire Bennett and replied in a low voice, "All right."

Those two simple words made Claire Bennett’s eyes light up. A happy, gentle smile spread across her lips, her expression tinged with glee. Inside, she was ecstatic.

While Claire Bennett was still basking in her joy, Adrian Lancaster spoke again, adding in a flat tone, "I’m going to head home first. You can send me the restaurant’s address later."

The smile in Claire Bennett’s eyes deepened. "What a coincidence, I was just planning to head home for a bit, too."

’I need to go home and change. I can’t possibly go on a date with Adrian Lancaster in this casual sportswear.’

"As soon as I’ve decided on a restaurant, I’ll send it to you right away. I hope you’ll do me the honor, President Lancaster. Don’t stand me up, okay?"

Adrian Lancaster looked at the unconcealed delight in Claire Bennett’s eyes and gave a faint response, "Okay."

With that, he turned and walked toward his car. In an instant, his eyes were coated with an icy chill, a sharp edge hidden within. The aura around him turned frighteningly cold.

Adrian Lancaster had been deliberately testing her, waiting to see if Claire Bennett would take the initiative and ask for his contact information.

But she didn’t.

Which meant she already had it.

’If she were just Claire Bennett, how could she possibly know my contact information?’