Chapter 446

"Only by proving your reliability will she lower her guard and willingly fall into your arms!"

"Understand?"

Adrian Klein found some logic in these words.

But one point troubled him.

Deliberately tripping for a kiss versus forcibly pinning someone down...

The former felt too staged.

The latter was outright harassment.

He believed such acts weren't expressions of love, but disrespect toward women.

Yes, utter disrespect!

Yet in his dream, he'd committed every one of these "disrespectful" acts.

Even asking shamelessly: "...Evelyn, does it feel good?"

Adrian jolted awake, sitting upright in bed while clutching his head in frustration.

Like a child caught misbehaving.

Only after prolonged silence did his breathing steady.

He moved to the wardrobe, retrieving fresh boxer briefs...

Hadn't he recovered already?

Why again...

At dawn, Vincent Macmillan arrived early at the lab.

Having left unfinished data yesterday, he came to complete it today.

If Adrian discovered this, the lecture would never end.

He'd set three alarms, dragging himself to the lab before sunrise.

"Holy shit! You're here?! It's your day off!"

His outburst betrayed his guilt.

Adrian stood by the lab bench, lifting cold eyes. "So you didn't finish yesterday's data?"

Vincent: "!"

Busted.

"Wait—why are you working on your day off? Professor, this is next-level dedication!"

Adrian responded flatly: "I've processed two datasets for you. Unnecessary then?"

Vincent instantly backpedaled: "Just kidding! Dedication's great! Marvelous!"

By noon, exhaustion drove Vincent toward the lounge.

Passing Adrian's slightly ajar door, he overheard a call:

"...Yes, sweet-glazed ribs... Two portions... Deliver to the lab before six..."

"Oho, who's bringing you meals? Girlfriend?" Vincent pounced on the gossip.

Adrian turned, presenting only the back of his head.

Beatrice Merouin hung up and dashed to the living room.

Snatching George Atlante's tea mid-sip.

She shook his shoulders excitedly:

"Two portions! Again two! Our son's seeing someone!"

George: "?"

"He ordered sweet ribs! Sweet! Know why?"

George: "...Stop shaking me..."

"It must be his girlfriend's preference! I'll cook it myself! Deliver personally!"

She stormed into the kitchen, upending the tea set in her wake.

George: "!" My Da Hong Pao!

Adrian returned home with his mother's homecooked meal.

Grabbing medicated oil and cotton swabs, he knocked on the neighboring door—

Only to receive

No response.