At midnight, in the huge villa at Yujing Bay, only the master bedroom on the second floor was still lit.
The phone on the counter kept ringing like it had a personal grudge, nonstop, almost like it was urging someone to their death.
Grace Calloway flipped through a fashion magazine with one hand and picked up the call with the other.
Stella Hartwell’s voice came blasting through like a bomb. “Grace! What are you doing? Why did it take you forever to answer?”
“Reading.” Grace lazily lifted a page with her slender fingers, her tone slow and sleepy.
The second Stella heard that, she exploded. “You’re still in the mood to read? Did you even see the photo I sent you?”
“I saw it.” Grace sounded completely unbothered and even yawned.
Ten minutes earlier, Stella had sent a photo to Grace’s phone.
In the picture, Adrian Whitfield was straddling a black Kawasaki H2, sleek and fierce like some hunting eagle. He was dressed in all-black riding gear. Under the white streetlight, his chestnut-brown short hair stood out sharply. The diamond stud in his left ear flashed brilliantly. His side profile was clean and sharp, like it had been carved by hand, ridiculously handsome.
On the back seat of the bike sat a slim girl. Her long black hair streamed in the wind, and her delicate face was lit up with a smile that came straight from the heart.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around Adrian’s lean waist, her whole body pressed against his broad back with basically zero space between them...
Grace had only taken one glance before closing it. That jerk Adrian really spent every single day making messes for her to clean up.
“Grace Calloway, you are his actual legal wife, Mrs. Whitfield, the young madam of L.S Group, and that’s all the reaction you’ve got?”
Stella’s voice was so loud it felt like the phone might crack. “That bitch Viveca Thornley keeps sticking to him every single day. Aren’t you mad at all?”
Grace held the phone a little farther from her ear, afraid Stella would blow out her eardrum. Then she said calmly, “No matter how good the leash is, it can’t keep a dog that wants to run.”
Stella was so annoyed by her indifferent attitude she almost choked on it. “Anyway, you’re the only sister-in-law I recognize. I’m not accepting any other woman, especially not that Viveca! I’m sending you the address. Go drag my cousin back. I’ll wait for you here!”
Still sounding completely feral, Stella hung up. Grace stared at the address that popped up on her screen, and her neatly shaped brows started twitching.
It wasn’t that Grace wasn’t angry about Adrian staying out all night and fooling around with that woman named Viveca. It was just that she’d gotten used to it a long time ago.
For three years after their marriage, the outside world had always said that Young Master Adrian of L.S Group was wild, hard to handle, impossible to read, yet spoiled his wife to the skies and gave her whatever she wanted.
Only Grace knew that Adrian’s heart had never been with her.
Their marriage had happened for one reason only: the wishes of their parents.
Because of Uncle Whitfield’s dying words, she had no choice but to play the role of Mrs. Whitfield properly.
—
The address Stella sent over was a standalone motorcycle-themed restaurant in Chaoyang District.
The red Ferrari pulled up outside. Before Grace even got out, her eyes immediately found Adrian’s black Kawasaki among the dozens of expensive bikes parked at the entrance.
Stella yanked her straight out of the car and dragged her quickly into the restaurant.
They went straight to the entertainment room on the third floor. Before they even reached the door, bursts of laughter and noisy cheering came from inside.
The moment the door opened, a thick wave of cigarette smoke hit them in the face.
There were more than a dozen young men and women inside. Especially those men—every one of them was a well-known rich heir in Jingshi, people with money, status, and real power.
Makes sense. Anyone running in the same circle as the only son of the most successful and wealthiest family in the country obviously wouldn’t be some random nobody.
The men were split into little groups. Some were playing pool, some throwing darts, some drinking. Mixed into it all were the sweet, coquettish laughs of young women ringing in the air.
Grace’s gaze landed on the most eye-catching man in the room.
Adrian held a cue stick in one hand, a pricey cigarette between his lips. He still hadn’t changed out of his black riding suit, and the stud in his left ear caught the light in sharp flashes.
His features were absurdly handsome. The corner of his mouth carried that usual untamed smirk. His chestnut hair looked casual without seeming messy at all, making his skin look even fairer, even cleaner.
Roguish and aristocratic at the same time—two qualities that should have clashed, yet somehow sat on him in perfect balance. Honestly, it was kind of unreal.
This man—after seeing him inside and out, front and back, for three whole years—still managed to stun Grace every time.
A man this insanely attractive standing here? Of course women would come at him in waves.