Chapter 175 Talking About What Happened Seven Years Ago

Chapter 175 Talking About What Happened Seven Years Ago

By the time Adrian arrived at the Hart family estate, it was nearly nine o'clock at night.

The house was lit with warm yellow light. Violet was sitting on the living room carpet, keeping Theodore company while he played with building blocks. She had on her loungewear, her hair loosely tied back.

Theodore sat on the carpet, completely absorbed in building a lopsided castle, holding up a block and trying to figure out where to put it.

Violet steadied the base for him, a smile in her voice. "Theo, make the base sturdier and the tower won't fall over."

Theodore tilted his head and thought for a moment. "Then Mom, you hold it steady while I build the top."

"Okay."

Adrian stood in the shadows of the entryway, watching the scene, and didn't say anything right away.

Seven years of marriage, and he'd missed countless moments like this — quiet and warm and ordinary. He used to find them dull. Now they just made his chest feel heavy.

"Dad!" Theodore spotted Adrian first and dropped his blocks, running over with his face tilted up, grinning. "You're back! Mom got me new blocks and I built a really tall castle — come look!"

Adrian pushed down every feeling rising inside him and bent down to ruffle Theodore's hair with his right hand. "Alright, let's see it."

As he walked over, Violet was getting up from the carpet. Their eyes met briefly in the air between them.

Violet noticed something was off with Adrian's face. "Why are you home so late?"

"Something came up at the company." Adrian made up a quick excuse.

Theodore excitedly pulled Adrian over to see the block castle. Adrian sat down on the same spot of carpet where Violet had been sitting and listened to Theodore chatter away about what each block was for.

That night, the detective sent a message.

[Mr. Hart, I've tracked down Miguel's whereabouts.]

Adrian set his phone aside and leaned back against the sofa, eyes closed. He was starting to dread finding out the truth. The Wells family had always been genuine with him — they mattered to him.

Footsteps came from upstairs. Violet came out of the children's room, gently pulled the door shut, and looked a little surprised to find Adrian still on the sofa. "Not going to bed yet?"

"I'm heading up." Adrian stood, but his left arm was still in a cast and it was hard to push himself up — he paused for a second.

Violet noticed. She came down a couple of steps and handed him his jacket, which had been draped over the back of the sofa.

The two of them stood in the living room with a small space between them.

Violet looked at him. "Are you feeling okay? You don't seem like yourself."

Adrian shook his head and said he was fine.

Violet didn't push it. She said goodnight, turned, and headed toward the stairs.

Adrian stood there and watched her go up, not looking away until she disappeared around the turn of the staircase. Then he dropped his gaze to the jacket in his hand.

The next morning, Adrian didn't go into the office. With his left arm in a cast, he couldn't handle paperwork the way he normally would, so Roman brought several contracts that needed signing to the Hart family estate.

In the study, Adrian sat at his desk going through the contracts with his right hand.

Martha came in with a cup of coffee and set it down, mentioning as she did, "Sir, Ms. Quinn called a little while ago. She wanted to know if you'd be free to meet with her today."

Adrian's pen stopped for a moment.

After a brief pause, he said, "Call her back and tell her today doesn't work. Some other time."

Until he had the full picture, he didn't know how to be around Quinn.

Martha acknowledged it and stepped out of the study.

Adrian put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the window.

He thought about the way Quinn had treated Violet over the years. It wasn't that he'd never had doubts — it was that Quinn always knew just when to play weak, to cry, to pull back, and each time she did, his suspicions quietly faded.

Quinn had a feel for limits. She was never pushy. Every time he was about to look closer, she'd ease off at exactly the right moment, disarming him with a softer, more harmless version of herself.

A little over a week passed. Adrian had his cast removed, and his arm slowly continued to heal.

The private detective finally delivered the complete findings.

After reading through the documents carefully, Adrian's face went dark. He headed straight to the Wells family estate.

When Quinn saw Adrian appear at the front door, she smiled warmly and went to greet him. "Adrian, you're here — come in, sit down. Your arm isn't even fully healed yet, why'd you go through all the trouble of coming over?"

She reached out to take his arm.

But Adrian stepped back slightly, brushing off Quinn's gesture.

The smile on Quinn's face froze. She slowly lowered her hand.

Sensing the cold tension coming off him, Quinn asked gently, "Adrian, is there something going on?"

She was finding it harder and harder to read him.

Adrian didn't answer right away. He looked at her steadily, his expression calm but with something in his eyes she couldn't quite make out — a kind of quiet scrutiny. "Quinn, I need to ask you something."

Quinn's heart jumped, but she kept her smile in place. "What is it?"

Adrian was about to speak when footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Robert came down from the second floor. When he saw Adrian in the living room, his face broke into a welcoming smile.

"Adrian! You could've given us some warning." He picked up his pace coming down the stairs and walked over. "I heard you were sick — we all wanted to come see you, but the old man at the Hart house wouldn't let any of us through the door."

Quinn added, "It's mostly because Mom's health has been up and down lately, so Dad and Landon have both had their hands full."

The Wells family had been busy lately — there was a government project, and they were working to get in good with the officials in charge, hoping to squeeze out more profit.

Adrian turned to Robert. "Good thing you're here, Robert. There's something I'd like you both to help me clear up."

Quinn felt Adrian's gaze was sharper than usual today, and a quiet unease stirred inside her — though she kept her smile on. "Adrian, you're being so serious all of a sudden. Are you feeling alright?"

She kept glancing nervously at the document folder he'd been holding tightly since the moment he walked in.

Robert, on the other hand, seemed unbothered. He settled into the armchair and said pleasantly, "Good timing — I'll have the kitchen add a few dishes. Stay for dinner tonight."

A few seconds of silence passed. Adrian placed the folder on the coffee table and slid it toward Robert. Then he looked at Quinn again, his expression grave. "I came here today to ask about something that happened seven years ago."

The moment the words landed, the color drained from both Quinn's and Robert's faces.