Chapter 147: Different Circles, but I Can Force My Way In

Chapter 147: Chapter 147: Different Circles, but I Can Force My Way In

Adrian Grant took the phone from her hand, and Caroline Whitman’s gaze followed it.

Just as she leaned in to take a look, Adrian Grant casually wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. The phone screen happened to display information about her.

"You really want to see?"

Caroline Whitman rested her head on his shoulder and glanced at the screen.

The two words, "Caroline Whitman," jumped into view.

"There’s really one for me?"

Caroline Whitman’s eyes widened.

She snatched the phone and sat up straight.

There wasn’t much to say about kindergarten.

She skipped past elementary school and skimmed over middle school.

There was nothing worth recording from those years, just the names of her schools.

When she got to St. Hector’s High School, Caroline Whitman took a more careful look.

Luckily, there was nothing of note. It seemed her diligent effort to be an invisible nobody back then had been the right move after all.

Her four years of university, however, were a little more colorful.

Who had confessed their feelings to her, how many times she’d appeared on the "confession wall," and who had arranged candles and flowers below her dorm window—all of it was recorded in clear detail.

Caroline Whitman couldn’t help but click her tongue as she read through it all.

’Why is it all just gossip?’

’How did I never realize I was so popular back then?’

Scrolling further down, the content after graduation was much more serious. It was all her work history at the Whitman Group: the projects she’d handled, the proposals she’d won, and the money she’d lost.

Also highlighted was the period when Matthew Grant had pursued and harassed her.

When she flipped to the last page, her finger paused.

[Romantic History: None.]

Caroline Whitman froze, then shot Adrian Grant a sideways glance. "You even investigated my love life?"

Adrian Grant didn’t hide it. He smiled and said, "Back then, you threw a picture of a child at me and said he was mine. Don’t you think I had to investigate? If you were in my shoes, I bet you would have, too."

"..."

Caroline Whitman was a reasonable person, and she couldn’t find any fault with his logic.

After all, she remembered that Franklin Whitman had once spent a fortune to have someone investigate Adrian Grant’s private life abroad.

They had even found photos.

This was a case of the pot calling the kettle black; neither of them had the right to judge the other.

Of course, the difference was that Adrian Grant’s investigation into her was now out in the open, laid bare right in front of her.

But one thing at a time. That brought her back to the matter at hand.

Caroline Whitman huffed lightly and teased, "If you hadn’t said that, I would’ve thought you had a secret crush on me back then."

Adrian Grant was an honest man. "...I didn’t."

"..."

"At least, not back then," Adrian Grant added tactfully.

Caroline Whitman shot him a cool glance. "No need to try and salvage it."

Of course, she knew Adrian Grant wasn’t interested in her back then.

Forget him.

She hadn’t been interested in Adrian Grant back then either. All she’d felt was fear.

’Who could possibly develop a crush on someone who steps on their face in their nightmares every night?’

Thinking of this, Caroline Whitman suddenly asked, "So, um... do you have a hobby of stepping on people’s faces?"

As she said this, Adrian Grant was lowering his head, affectionately nuzzling her cheek. He froze at her words.

A moment later, he lifted his head and looked at her with a strange, slightly complicated expression, hesitating for a second.

"You... don’t tell me you like having your face stepped on?"

"..."

Caroline Whitman was rendered speechless by his look of serious contemplation. "What are you thinking? I was just asking."

"Wait, you’re not actually thinking about stepping on my face, are you?"

She found Adrian Grant’s pensive look terrifying, so much so that she quickly covered her face with her hands.

Adrian Grant snapped out of his thoughts. His gaze was innocent as he said seriously, "I don’t have a fetish for stepping on people’s faces."

"But," he paused, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "when it comes to fetishes, everyone has their own little preferences. It’s perfectly normal."

"If you’re really into that, I respect it, and I’m willing to learn for you. We might run in different circles, but I can force my way in."

"..."

’What the hell does "different circles, but I can force my way in" even mean?!’

’I’m not a masochist, hello!’

Seeing he was actually taking her seriously, Caroline Whitman grew frantic. "I’m not, I don’t have one, you have to believe me..."

But her explanation sounded rather feeble.

"Mm, I believe you," Adrian Grant said. "But I remember you mentioned back in Marinus that you always dreamed of me stepping on you."

At this, Adrian Grant gave her a meaningful look. "Isn’t there a saying, ’What you think about by day, you dream about by night’?"

Caroline Whitman: "..."

Why did she have the feeling that she’d jumped into the Yellow River and would never be able to wash herself clean?

No, that wasn’t right. It was more like a mute person eating a bitter herb—she was suffering in silence.

Caroline Whitman clutched her face tightly, her own looking pale as she said, "No."

Adrian Grant found her reaction amusing. He tried to pull her small hands away from her face, but she held them there tightly, refusing to budge. He couldn’t pry them off.

He laughed and stopped teasing her. "I know you don’t. Don’t be nervous."

"So, can I assume you were afraid of me back then?"

Adrian Grant hugged her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he asked curiously.

He didn’t think he had done anything to make enemies during his time as an exchange student.

And, of course, he certainly hadn’t said anything malicious to his classmates.

He also understood that the dream Caroline Whitman mentioned wasn’t a form of flirting, but a genuine reaction born from fear.

Caroline Whitman finally let go of her face. ’Anyone would be afraid of you if they knew their own fate, okay?’ she thought.

Despite this, her words didn’t match her thoughts. "I told you back then, didn’t I? I probably just felt that you weren’t as easy to get along with as you seemed on the surface."

Adrian Grant chuckled. "You’re a pretty good judge of character, then."

"Oh, so you’re aware of what you’re like," Caroline Whitman huffed, pursing her lips.

She lowered the hands that had been covering her face, and Adrian Grant took the opportunity to move closer, once again pressing his cheek affectionately against hers.

"What I said just now wasn’t an attempt to salvage things. I truly didn’t have a crush on anyone back then. During my university years, I was juggling both my studies and my family’s assessments. On top of that, something happened with Zoe around that time, so I simply had no time to get distracted by romance."

Caroline Whitman pouted. "Why are you suddenly telling me all this?"

Adrian Grant: "I was afraid you’d misunderstand and think I had a secret crush on someone else."

But before she could speak, Adrian Grant’s voice drifted over again, this time tinged with a hint of danger.

"What about you?"

"What about me? Didn’t we already have an honest talk about this? Like you, I didn’t have a secret crush on anyone either."

Caroline Whitman was telling the truth.

Thanks to her awakened memories, knowing there was such a huge landmine next to her completely stamped out any budding teenage romance she might have had.

Back then, everyone looked like cannon fodder to her, so to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, she simply put up a cordon around her social life.

"You should thank your son. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now."

Caroline Whitman’s words faltered as she felt a soft sensation on her chest. Her face flushed red as she slapped his hand away, saying bashfully, "And my hand wouldn’t be slapping you right now, you pervert!"

Adrian Grant laughed, but he didn’t agree with her. "Even without Ryan, we would have crossed paths and still ended up sitting here together. It was just a matter of time."

Caroline Whitman raised an eyebrow. "You’re that certain?"