Chapter 88 Chapter 88
Michael replied respectfully, "Understood, Mr. Norman."
He carefully backed out of Benjamin's study. Just as he was about to turn and head downstairs, the door across from him opened unexpectedly. Grace emerged wearing a nightgown. She looked up and seemed startled to see him. She hastily raised her hand to cover the loose front of her nightgown. She greeted him awkwardly: "Michael."
Michael remained expressionless. "Good evening, Ms. Hill."
Grace forced a smile and gestured toward the study door across the hall. "Is Mr. Norman in there?"
Michael nodded. Grace smiled at him again, saying nothing more. She walked to the door and raised her hand to knock when she noticed Michael was still standing there, watching her. She raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, "What is it? Is there something else?"
What could he possibly want from her? He was just curious about what she intended to do. Michael shook his head and turned to descend the stairs. Grace glanced at his retreating figure and offered a faint smile. Then she knocked on the door with measured force. After a moment, Benjamin's cold voice came from inside. "Come in," he said.
The door was extremely heavy. Grace hadn't been prepared and couldn't budge it on her first try. She had to use more force to pry open a narrow crack. With one arm immobilized, she wedged her foot in to brace against the door and slipped inside. Benjamin was seated behind his desk. He'd expected Michael to be at the door, but Grace had pushed her way in instead. Seeing the scene before him, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Where's that energy you had in bed?"
Grace ignored his teasing and turned to the door, surprised. "Why is it so heavy?"
Benjamin gave a faint smile and explained, "Bulletproof."
This protection was clearly meant for more than just ordinary handguns.
Grace’s face flashed with surprise, but she didn’t press the matter. She simply walked over to him and casually surveyed the room’s furnishings. When her gaze landed on the towering bookshelf, her eyes lit up. She stepped closer, tilting her head back slightly to examine it.
At moments like this, Benjamin always acutely felt the distance between himself and them—not a real distance, but the chasm between their lives.
No matter how hard he tried, he could never truly draw near to them.
He loathed this feeling, his expression darkening as he interrupted her with a deliberately pointed question. "How did you wake up? Judging by how you passed out earlier, I thought you'd be unconscious until dawn."
Grace turned and gave him a surprised look. Her lips tightened slightly and her face flushed with embarrassment.
Benjamin knew his words were wrong the moment they left his mouth. Seeing her expression, he was flooded with regret.
Yet, he refused to apologize to her right then and there. So he pressed on, his tone cold and commanding. "Come here."
His face remained icy, but his hand reached out toward her.
Grace lowered her eyelids and walked over with her head bowed. Instead of approaching him, she stopped before the desk, pointed to the chair in front of it, and asked, "May I sit?"
Seeing him nod, she sat down. Perhaps feeling the chill, she pulled her legs up beneath her and sat across the desk from him. After a moment of silence, she suddenly murmured, "Benjamin, I just had a nightmare."
Benjamin had been slightly annoyed by her refusal to come to him. However, upon hearing this, his anger dissipated.
When he left earlier, she had been sleeping so deeply. The fact that something could startle her awake from such a deep sleep showed just how terrifying the nightmare must have been. He couldn't help but ask, "What did you dream about?"
Grace lifted her eyes to meet his, her smile painfully strained. "I dreamed I ran away, but you caught me and brought me back. Not just me—my parents, too. You were furious and tortured them in front of me, forcing me to watch."
He froze, silently observing her for a moment before suddenly asking, "Did you want to run away?"
Grace forced a smile and answered honestly, "Before this dream, I always wanted to run away."
Benjamin watched her. After a moment, he found himself laughing. He seemed to have forgotten the awkwardness of withdrawing his hand earlier. He reached out to her again and spoke gently: "Come here, Grace. Sit beside me.”
Grace met his gaze, rose, and walked over. She placed her hand in his palm and let him take it gently.
Looking down at him, she whispered, "Benjamin, I have one request. No matter what happens in the future, please don't hurt my parents. Whatever happens between us, we'll handle it ourselves. Whatever the outcome, I won't complain. Just don't involve my parents."
His eyelids lowered and silence fell between them. His fingers kneaded hers with measured pressure as he casually asked, "Do you trust me?"
She paused for a moment before answering, "I do."
He lifted his gaze to meet hers, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Very well," he replied. "I promise, even if you run, I will only come for you. I won't harm your parents.”
"Thank you," she said.
He opened his arms and embraced her, smiling. "Since I've made you a promise, you should show me some sincerity in return. How exactly did you contact the Meyers before? Why isn't there a trace of it in the call records between that grandmother and granddaughter?"
“You didn't find it?” A hint of smugness flashed across her face as she replied: "Of course I wasn't stupid enough to use my own phone. I used pay phones, and sometimes I'd borrow someone else's phone.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly. "Borrow someone else's phone?"
"Yeah. You know I'm pretty. I could borrow a phone from any guy, young or old." She answered casually, then seemed to find something amusing and added, "Of course, sometimes people mistake me for a scammer or a thief."
The betrayal that Benjamin once cared about most had now become a lighthearted topic of conversation between them.
He liked this feeling, as if all those betrayals had turned into a little game between lovers—like Texas Hold'em, each holding their cards close and trying to read the other's expression.
Grace volunteered another detail: "Once, I went back to school, left my phone there, and snuck over."
She paused abruptly and asked him, "You really have my phone tracked? You're not pulling my leg, are you?"
Benjamin curved his lips. "Yes."
"Through your phone?" She held out her palm, not believing him. "I don't buy it. Show me."
He explained, "The software is on Michael's phone."
Half-convinced, she dropped the matter. Her gaze drifted to a photo frame in the corner of the desk. When she saw the person in the picture, she turned back to scrutinize him. Benjamin smiled involuntarily. Before she could ask, he said, "It's not me."
The "me" he referred to was likely Alex. Grace harbored doubts about both "Benjamin" and "Alex." She wanted to ask about them, yet she feared appearing too eager. Suppressing her curiosity, she nodded slowly instead, continuing to survey the study's furnishings. When her gaze fell upon the towering, solid-wood bookshelves that reached the ceiling, she couldn't help but smile. "If you dislike those books, why not clear them out?"
Benjamin raised an eyebrow slightly and countered, "How did you tell I don't like them?"
Grace replied frankly, "Alex and Benjamin are two completely different people—interests, preferences, and personalities included. How could you possibly like the study he left behind?"
Unwittingly, Benjamin had fallen into her trap. He studied her silently before asking, "What do you think Alex would like?"