I Married the President Chapter 200: How Much Longer Do I Have to Wait?

Claire Sinclair’s heart felt like it had been viciously lashed. She was on the verge of wavering, but the mory of last night’s humiliation forced her to harden her resolve.

"You asked before how I felt about you, and I’ll give you the answer now. I feel the sa way about you as I did about Logan Linden—it’s just dependency. Look, I didn’t shed a single tear when he cheated on . And after we went our separate ways last night, I didn’t cry either. Not one tear."

As she finished, she even gave a triumphant smile.

Even so, a voice inside her protested.

Adrian Quincy slowly looked up, his gaze eting her clear, bright eyes. They were so pure that he couldn’t detect any sign of a lie.

But he still refused to believe this was what she truly felt. ’She’s not that kind of woman.’

"Claire, tears aren’t a asure of how deep feelings run."

’...’ ’Who the hell is talking about tears? That’s not my point!’

Claire Sinclair said irritably, "Whatever. I don’t like you."

Adrian Quincy didn’t speak, but a hurt look appeared in his eyes.

Claire Sinclair couldn’t bear to look at him and deliberately averted her gaze. "I need to get my laptop back. Where is it?"

"Follow ." Adrian Quincy turned and walked inside.

The intimidating aura finally receded. Claire Sinclair let out a sigh of relief and followed behind him.

Once inside the office, Adrian Quincy sat down in his chair and said to Claire Sinclair, "Have a seat. Soone will bring the laptop over shortly."

Claire Sinclair hesitated for a mont before sitting down.

After that, neither of them spoke.

Adrian Quincy picked up a docunt from his desk and began to review it, acting as if the girl across from him was thin air. He beca completely absorbed, as if no one else was in the room.

Without her phone or computer, Claire Sinclair gradually lost her patience. She wanted to hurry him along but couldn’t bring herself to interrupt his work.

’So this is what he’s like when he’s working. He actually looks kind of handso...’

’Stop, stop. I can’t be swooning!’

Claire Sinclair raised her hand and tapped her own head.

Adrian Quincy suddenly looked up. "Not feeling well?"

"N-No!"

The next second, Claire Sinclair snapped back to reality. "How much longer do I have to wait?"

The words had barely left her mouth when the office door suddenly opened, and Yara Quincy walked in.

"Bro, what did you call here for?" As soon as she finished speaking, Yara Quincy saw Claire Sinclair, and a look of disgust imdiately filled her eyes. "Claire Sinclair, what are you doing here?"

’Shouldn’t this woman have stord off in a huff by now?’

Before Claire Sinclair could speak, Adrian Quincy said coldly, "Who taught you to address your sister-in-law by her full na?"

As he spoke, the temperature in the office seed to drop.

Yara Quincy felt a chill run down her spine. On instinct, she tried to use their mother as backup. "Bro, last night Mom even said—"

Before she could finish, Adrian Quincy cut her off rcilessly. "What did you say to Mom and Dad last night?"

Yara Quincy froze for a second, then retorted, "Bro, what do you an?"

"What did you tell Mom and Dad about Claire?"

"I—"

"Tell everything, word for word. Now." His voice was intense, carrying a soul-crushing pressure. The air seed to freeze.

It wasn’t just Yara Quincy; Claire Sinclair was frightened too.

In all the ti she had known him, this was the first ti she had ever seen him truly angry.

Yara Quincy felt wronged. ’My brother is such an idiot. Why can’t he see I ant well?’

She didn’t feel she had done anything wrong, so she said, her expression unchanged, "I only told them the truth—"

"Don’t waste my ti," Adrian Quincy cut in coldly.