CHAPTER 5: CHAPTER 5: MARRY WHO? YOUR NEW FLAME?

The suddenly darkened environment made Eleanor Winslow’s vision unaccustomed.

The next second, she was pressed against the wall, her lips sealed shut!

The fierceness felt like it was going to devour her whole.

Eleanor struggled to breathe, pushing hard against the person pressing down on her.

She couldn’t push him away; her body weakened.

Extremely aggrieved.

When Adrian Grant finally let go of her, the once beautiful woman’s eyes were already shimmering, covered with a layer of mist.

Impossible to tell if it was physical or emotional.

But those eyes clearly accused.

After the entanglement, the scent of alcohol became stronger.

Ambiguity spread in the air.

"You little drunkard, be reasonable, you drank first and provoked me, and now you feel wronged?"

Adrian Grant was both annoyed and amused, still having to support her waist to prevent her from collapsing.

—It was you who drank first and provoked me.

—It was you who drank and climbed into my bed first.

Eleanor lowered her gaze, avoiding his eyes.

Adrian Grant sharply noticed her mood change, frowning slightly.

He was a patient hunter, choosing not to ask what was wrong, waiting for Eleanor to speak first.

After a while, Eleanor’s soft murmur broke the silence:

"Jonah wouldn’t do this."

"...What did you just say?"

Adrian Grant’s face instantly turned cold.

"It hurts!"

Only when Eleanor couldn’t help but cry out in pain did he realize his grip on her waist had tightened excessively, nearly embedding her in his embrace.

Adrian Grant turned on the light, wanting to see Eleanor’s expression clearly.

He even suspected that during the kiss, she mistook him for his brother—Jonah Grant!

The darkness and ambiguity completely dissipated.

The pain ebbed away the overpowering effect of the alcohol, and Eleanor rubbed her face twice, forcing herself to wake up, the grievance in her eyes had vanished.

The term ’Jonah brother’ was as if it was only a sleep talk in a dream.

"Adrian Grant, for the sake of growing up together, can you not get involved in Jude Winslow’s matter?"

If it weren’t for Adrian Grant’s interference, she would have already convinced the Preston Family!

"Eleanor, I’m not my brother Jonah Grant, I never speak of sentiment." As if the person who passionately kissed her earlier wasn’t him, Adrian Grant now appeared utterly indifferent both in expression and words.

Eleanor nodded, with a self-deprecating smile: "Right, there’s no sentiment between us to speak of."

She straightened her expression, "Then let’s talk about something adult."

Adrian Grant raised an eyebrow with a look that said he was listening.

"Then why don’t you want a divorce?"

"I hate trouble."

Adrian Grant’s handsome face was hidden in shadows.

Eleanor understood.

He wasn’t unwilling to divorce her.

He was even eager to divorce her!

However, her role as Mrs. Grant didn’t hinder him and Mia Winslow’s affection, plus she still catered to his physical needs for free at night. Divorcing her would be troublesome, temporarily unnecessary.

How ridiculous!

Eleanor suppressed her anger, took a deep breath: "Let Jude Winslow go, you can name any conditions besides divorce!"

With Mia Winslow in the marriage, she didn’t want to endure another second!

Adrian Grant ruthlessly scrutinized her, as if assessing a commodity: "Eleanor, what do you have to offer that’s worth my while?"

Money, talent, connections.

Adrian Grant lacked none of these.

"Giving options isn’t sincere," Eleanor smiled charmingly, "As long as it’s not illegal, whatever President Grant wants, I will give. Isn’t that better?"

"What if—" Adrian Grant looked at Eleanor, expressionless, lightly saying, "I want you to be my mistress?"

Eleanor’s smile froze on her face.

That previous ease disappeared completely.

"We are husband and wife, how could there be a mistress?" Eleanor instinctively avoided.

Adrian Grant stepped back two paces, leaning on the sofa armrest leisurely: "Once divorced, not anymore."

"Adrian Grant, are you deliberately humiliating me?" Eleanor couldn’t help but clench her fists.

"Stating facts."

"For how long? It can’t be forever, I still want to remarry."

Eleanor pretended to be relaxed, taking on the stance of negotiating a deal.

"Marry who? Your new lover?" Adrian Grant’s long fingers lightly landed at the side of Eleanor’s face, sarcastically, "If he knows you’re my mistress, would he still want you?"

Eleanor felt the humiliation, her face stiffened immediately: "That’s none of your business!"

Adrian Grant crossed his arms, calmly watching Eleanor.

He didn’t get the answer he wanted, not in a hurry to speak.

A hunter always holds the upper hand.

After a long time.

The woman took a deep breath, as if making an extremely difficult decision, breaking the silence:

"Fine... I agree! I agree to be your mistress!"

She would rather be a secret mistress than the rightful Mrs. Grant?

Adrian Grant suddenly laughed.

That seemingly gentle smile carried undisguised sarcasm.

He stood up, pinched Eleanor’s chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"Eleanor, you know what being a mistress means, right?"

When Eleanor looked at him, the smile in her eyes was completely gone, instead, they were deep and unreadable, concealing any emotion.

"Didn’t you say I lacked in skills, and yet you’re willing?"

Eleanor was caught off guard, a sense of guilt and panic: "You... how do you know... who told you?"

She only said this to Mia, could it be Mia told Adrian Grant?

No, does Mia have an issue?

Adrian Grant, in a fit of anger, ignored Eleanor’s question, cruelly continued:

"Without a title, consorting at my every whim, on the bed you must please me with no bottom line, no dignity, accommodate all my preferences, with your body that easily gets exhausted, can’t even lift your waist, can you even get off the bed?"

Eleanor’s expression gradually cracked with each of his words, becoming full of defensiveness and anger.

Adrian Grant slightly smiled, reminding her: Now this is how you humiliate someone!

He didn’t care about her at all.

What he was interested in now, was just her fresh body, nothing more!

"Slap!"

Instantly, the crisp sound of a slap echoed as the woman’s hand went up and down.

"Adrian Grant, you’re shameless!"

Adrian Grant was slapped, his head slightly turned, his thumb wiped his mouth corner, no blood.

He looked at Eleanor coldly.

Eleanor felt like being watched by a predator, the crisis of having her throat ripped open at any moment.

She forced herself to meet the man’s gaze.

—She had known Adrian Grant for over ten years, never had she seen him slapped by anyone.

She was the first!