Adrian Quincy: Her health is poor, and you’re still letting her eat that kind of stuff?
Reporter Henry Hartwell: Eldest Young Master Quincy, would you rather she stay miserable and starve herself, or cheer up and get on with her life?
Adrian Quincy didn’t reply.
Henry Hartwell added: Look, your mom went way too far. After saying sothing like that to her, how do you expect her to ever hold her head up high?
Adrian Quincy: I didn’t think through the consequences.
Reporter Henry Hartwell: Blaming yourself is pointless. Her issue right now isn’t with you; it’s with your family. Unless you can get them to apologize to her, that slap will be a disgrace she’ll carry for the rest of her life—a humiliation she’ll never want to rember.
After a long wait, Adrian Quincy finally replied: Take good care of her for .
He said nothing more.
...
That night, Claire Sinclair slept incredibly soundly, waking up naturally the next morning.
After a night to cool down, Claire Sinclair had made up her mind.
While still on sick leave, she decided today was the day to lay her cards on the table.
However, she was completely broke and had to ask Henry Hartwell for help.
Claire Sinclair went to the room next door and rang the doorbell.
After a mont, Henry Hartwell appeared at the door in a bathrobe, letting out a lazy yawn. "Morning."
"Teacher Hartwell, I’ve co to borrow so money. I just need fifty."
"What do you need fifty for?"
"I just need to go out for a bit."
"Hang on..."
Henry Hartwell went back into his room and returned a minute later with his wallet.
He pulled a hundred from his wallet and handed it to her. "I’m worried fifty won’t be enough. Take this. You can give back whatever’s left."
"Alright, thank you, Teacher Hartwell."
"Don’t ntion it," Henry Hartwell said with another yawn. "Say hi to Young Master Quincy for . I’m going back to sleep... Good grief, it’s only seven in the morning..."
Claire Sinclair blinked. ’It’s only seven? I thought it was much later.’
’Wait, how did Teacher Hartwell know I was going to see Adrian Quincy?’
...
Claire Sinclair took a taxi, got out near Quincy Manor, and walked the rest of the way to the gate.
She hesitated for a long mont before gathering her courage and stepping inside.
The gate guard recognized her and didn’t try to stop her. The mont she was inside, he imdiately radioed his report. "Adjutant Hawkins, the Young Madam just entered."
Upon receiving the ssage, Aiden Howkins was instantly alert. He imdiately knocked on the door. "Young Master Quincy, the Young Madam is here."
The words had barely left his mouth when the door was thrown open, revealing Adrian Quincy standing there.
Aiden Howkins froze for a second before saying awkwardly, "She just ca in. She hasn’t made it this far yet."
Adrian Quincy said nothing, simply pushed Aiden Howkins aside, and strode out.
Aiden Howkins: ...
Claire Sinclair had just stepped into the main building when she ca face-to-face with Adrian Quincy, which made her jump.
Rembering the purpose of her visit, she forced herself to stand firm. "Mr. Quincy, your timing is perfect. Please spare an hour to co with to the Marriage Registration Office and file for divorce."
The words hit Adrian Quincy like a physical blow, catching him completely off guard.
’She had a whole night to cool down, and *this* is the conclusion she ca to?’
’This wasn’t what he had imagined at all...’
Adrian Quincy said in a low voice, "I don’t have ti today."
"Then when will you be free?"
"Not for the rest of this month."
"Then I’ll co back next month." With that, Claire Sinclair turned to leave.
Adrian Quincy grabbed her arm, pinning her against the wall. With one arm braced beside her head, he trapped her.
Claire Sinclair struggled, flustered and angry. "Mr. Quincy, control yourself!"
Adrian Quincy leaned slowly toward her ear, his voice hoarse. "Claire, give one more chance."
The abject plea in his voice was deeply unsettling.
User Comments
0 comments from readers