CHAPTER 166: CHAPTER 166: HIS TERMS

Sheila Yardley turned her head, glanced at the car parked by the roadside, feeling guilty, then jogged over to Ryder Griffin, "...What brings you here?"

"Did you go to work at the bar again?"

Sheila Yardley recalled last night’s events and panicked for a moment; she feigned calmness and said, "No, why?"

Ryder Griffin stared at her intently and said, "A friend said they saw you at the bar last night."

"Oh... I went to meet a friend, had something to deal with."

Ryder Griffin could tell at a glance whether Sheila Yardley was lying. Besides, he had seen the photos Lynn Kendall sent him, knowing Sheila was hiding something from him, but he didn’t expose her or press further.

"Want to grab a late-night snack?"

Sheila Yardley was a bit surprised because it had been a long time since he had come to ask her out for a meal. She wanted to go with him, but after seeing the car parked by the roadside, she shook her head and politely declined, "I had a very full dinner, not hungry."

"Then let me take you back to the dormitory."

Upon hearing this, Sheila Yardley initially wanted to find an excuse to slip away, but at that moment, Ryder Griffin’s phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, furrowed his brows, hesitated but did not answer immediately and said to Sheila Yardley, "You head back to the dorm first, Lane is calling me, there’s something I need to handle."

Sheila Yardley sensed something was off, but she didn’t question it. She nodded, and before she could say anything else, he turned and walked away, taking large strides, answering the call as he moved further away from Sheila’s sight.

Watching Ryder Griffin’s back, Sheila Yardley felt momentarily dazed.

When did they start having their own secrets, mutual hiding and suspicion, and no longer trusting each other?

Thinking back to Ryder Griffin’s evasive gaze earlier, Sheila began to doubt whether the call was from a work friend at all.

Without overthinking it, she set aside the chaotic thoughts, turned around, and got into the black SUV parked by the roadside.

Gazing at the dark night outside the window, Sheila didn’t know what awaited her, but if it could help her mother’s condition improve, she couldn’t give up any possibility.

The drive was quiet and long; Sheila sat distracted in the car, her heart uneasy and hands sweating with nervousness.

"Miss Yardley, we have arrived."

The driver reminded her as the car stopped.

Sheila Yardley turned to look out the car window, seeing a two-story European-style villa that wasn’t particularly luxurious but seemed quite comfortable and homely.

Sheila opened the car door and got out, not sure if it was due to fear, tension, or the cold night breeze, she shivered.

The driver got out and said to her, "The young master went out for something, he should be back soon, Miss Yardley, please wait in the house for a while."

A woman appeared at the door, glanced smilingly at Sheila Yardley before saying, "You must be Miss Yardley? Please come in."

Sheila Yardley forced an uneasy smile and followed the lady into the living room.

It seemed a golden retriever heard the noise outside, dashed out wagging its tail at Sheila but did not bark. The lady called it, and it followed her back into the house.

The lady introduced, "This is Big Tiger, the young master’s pet for four years."

Sheila Yardley chuckled dryly and nodded; she had always had a weak spot for animals and had wanted a pet, but Ryder Griffin disagreed, so she dismissed the idea.

However, she didn’t have time to play with the dog now, her mind solely focused on Caleb Grant’s return, wondering what conditions he might propose, and whether he really had a way to help her mother.

"Miss Yardley, please sit down and have some water, the young master should be back soon."

"Thank you, madam."

"I’ll head out to attend to some tasks, call me if you need anything."

"Alright."

The spacious living room was left with only her, luxurious yet desolate.

Big Tiger circled the living room, then rested its head and returned to its spot to sleep.

Sheila Yardley surveyed her surroundings, but before she could take a proper look, she heard the sound of a car coming to a stop outside. Through the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room balcony, she could vaguely see the scene outside.

Caleb Grant had returned.

"Is she here?" Caleb Grant asked as soon as he got out of the car.

The butler nodded, "In the living room."

Caleb Grant handed the car keys to the butler and said, "Let everyone finish up and rest."

The butler hesitated for half a second, didn’t ask any questions, took the car keys, nodded, and said, "Yes."

Caleb Grant let out a deep breath and turned to walk into the house.

Sheila had already heard the footsteps and became anxious. Seeing Caleb Grant enter the living room, she stood up from the sofa, pursed her lips but didn’t know how to greet him, standing there awkwardly.

Caleb Grant merely glanced at her without stopping, directly heading upstairs, and casually said two words to Sheila Yardley: "Come up."

In a commanding tone, giving Sheila Yardley no room for negotiation.

Sheila’s heart pounded; seeing Caleb standing at the turn of the stairs watching her, his eyes a bit impatient.

Clenching her fist tightly, she took a deep breath and followed Caleb up the stairs, jogging to catch up with him before he continued forward.

"...Mr. Grant, just state your terms directly, I have to hurry back to school."

Caleb Grant ignored her, stopping in front of a door and pushing it open as he went inside.

Sheila Yardley hesitated at the door, glancing inside and guessing from the layout and decor it was his bedroom.

Inside, Caleb turned to look at Sheila Yardley standing warily at the entrance and said, "You can still leave now."

Sheila was stumped. She’d long guessed the worst-case scenario, but Caleb hadn’t made it explicit, so she’d harbored the illusion that he might not be that kind of person.

Summoning all her courage to come here, retreating now would mean returning to face her mother’s illness, utterly helpless.

Gritting her teeth, she stepped inside.

"Close the door," Caleb Grant said.

She cast a cautious glance at him, feeling like she was stepping into a den of wolves, and said, "Mr. Grant, please just say what you have to."

Caleb Grant didn’t bother with pleasantries; as soon as Sheila spoke, he approached her. Sheila stepped back two steps defensively, but he followed closely, reaching past her to shut and lock the door.

Sheila stared wide-eyed in terror; looking down at the lock, she found herself cornered against his chest, which was almost touching her face, exuding a faint scent of men’s cologne that did not intoxicate her. Raising her arm defensively between them, she sought to escape, but found no route.

Caleb Grant leaned slightly, bowing his head, breathing onto her face with a faint smell of alcohol, scorching Sheila’s face. Watching her terrified expression, he said, "What if I say my condition is you?"