Victor's chest heaved heavily. He pointed at both of them, rage twisting his features whilst he glared at them.
Adrian only arched a brow, his cold gaze daring Victor to act. That silent challenge cut deeper than words, and Victor hated it.
Unable to bear the humiliation any longer, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the Donovan mansion, feeling humiliated and frustrated.
Clarissa glared daggers at Grace before hurrying after him. Eleanor stayed behind, her expression grim as she turned her gaze on her stepdaughter—the obstacle she couldn't control.
"Your father would be disappointed in you," Eleanor said coldly. "It isn't too late to divorce Mr. Blackwell and marry Victor."
Adrian was about to speak when Grace beat him to it.
Grace's lips curved into a sharp scoff. "Then why don't you have your daughter marry him? She seems eager enough. And as for my father…" she tilted her head, her tone laced with scorn, "he would never want me with a spineless man. He'd be proud of me for standing my ground."
Adrian's lips twitched faintly at her words. This was the Grace he remembered—unyielding, fearless, and always daring the world to stop her.
Eleanor faltered at the defiance burning in Grace's eyes. Forcing a smile, she tried again, her tone softer but still laced with undisguised venom. "I only worry for you. You don't know who Adrian Blackwell really is—"
Grace cut her off, lifting her chin proudly. "Keep your goodwill for yourself. And as for Adrian…" her steady and unafraid gaze met his, "we have a lifetime to know each other. It isn't your place to meddle in my life. You are not my mother."
Adrian's lips curved dangerously, but his eyes softened ever so slightly at her words. The girl didn't realize how much her words meant to him. He hadn't realized until now how much he'd missed that fire in her.
Eleanor s composure cracked. She clenched her fists, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Enjoy your little rebellion, Grace. But don't think it will last forever." With one last venomous glare, she stormed out of the mansion.
The silence she left behind was heavy. Grace finally released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Her gaze was fixated on Adrian, committing every detail to memory—the sharp lines of his suit, the commanding presence, the dangerous calm in his eyes.
"What are you staring at?" Adrian asked lazily, snapping her out of her thoughts.
She blinked, instinctively shaking her head. "I didn't expect you to come here."
Adrian chuckled, the low sound reverberating through the hall. The servants, unable to help themselves, stole glances at the dangerously magnetic man as they scurried about their duties.
"I'm glad I did," he said smoothly, walking to the sofa and taking a seat with effortless authority. He gestured for her to sit across from him. "Otherwise, you'd still be letting them bully you."
Grace exhaled slowly, gathering her gown as she lowered herself onto the seat opposite him. Her fingers twisted nervously in her lap.
"I haven't apologized to you yet," she admitted quietly. "For… choosing you to marry me. The situation forced me, and I had no other choice."
Adrian's lips curved, his deep, magnetic laughter echoing through the room. "Apologize?" His dark, unrelenting gaze held hers. "Grace, I'm not complaining."
She swallowed lightly, feeling the weight of his words, and the intensity of his stare. "I still have to apologize. I also rushed home, leaving you at the church. It must have been embarrassing for you." She said quietly.
Adrian leaned back, lips curling. "Embarrassing?" His voice was low, mocking. "Grace, I don't get embarrassed that easily. If anything, I was amused. You are certainly the first person to treat me that way."
She lowered her gaze, playing with the tip of her hair.. "My dad… I came to see him." She whispered.
Adrian studied her in silence. Her unease. Her honesty. His chest tightened before he could stop it.
Then, out of nowhere—Grace blurted, "Have we met before?"
His body froze, and his eyes narrowed, dark with surprise. Was she remembering?
Grace rushed on, cheeks warm. "I know this is the first time I'm seeing you, but… it feels like I've met you somewhere. That's why I asked."
For one fleeting second, hope stirred inside him. Then it died. Adrian forced a laugh, smooth and cold. "No. We've never met."
Her face fell. "Oh…" she murmured, the disappointment cutting sharper than she expected.
He rose, straightening his tie, the predator back in control. "Settle your family drama. Since we're married, you'll be moving in with me." His lips curved, dangerously. "See you tomorrow… wifey."
Her heart stumbled at the word. She managed a weak wave as he strode out.
The second he crossed the doors, his expression hardened.
Anton was already waiting. He bowed quickly. "Young Master… the Old Master requests your presence at once."
Adrian arched a brow, voice edged with coldness. "Then why are you still standing here?"
Anton swallowed hard. "Y-Yes, sir." He hated being caught in the middle.
Minutes later, Adrian walked into the Blackwell estate. His grandfather, Scott Blackwell, sat like a storm contained, eyes blazing with unrestrained fury.
"Grandfather," Adrian drawled, his smirk taunting.
Scott shot to his feet, pointing at him. "Why did you marry that girl from the Donovan family?"
Adrian tilted his head, unfazed, meeting his gaze. "And why shouldn't I?"
Scott hit his cane against the floor, and glared at his son. Pointing his trembling fingers at him, he seethed. "Have you forgotten that she brutally left you when you were in a coma?"