Claire Sinclair smiled faintly and said matter-of-factly, "When I was a kid, my dad used to beat . One ti, I ca ho late, and he broke my leg. Then he locked in a pitch-black room for several days.
When they finally let out, I was apparently in a coma for a long ti. The doctors said there was nothing physically wrong with , but ever since then, my legs freeze up whenever I’m terrified or panicked. To this day, I still don’t know why."
She recounted her story as if it were nothing, then gave a small laugh to herself and looked at the man’s grim face.
"Mr. Quincy, I’m just a cripple with unreliable legs. I’m completely useless to your political career and might even beco a stumbling block. Have you considered divorcing ?"
Adrian Quincy’s cold eyes narrowed. ’So the bruises on her calves are from abuse at ho.’
’No wonder Quinn was so worried about her. So she’s been miserable at ho all this ti.’
In that mont, Adrian Quincy felt a pang of sympathy for her, but also a surge of annoyance.
’Stupid woman! She can’t even walk down the stairs properly!’
The man abruptly lowered his head, gripping her chin and pressing his lips to hers. He kissed her, a gentle gnawing, as if he wanted to consu her entirely.
Claire Sinclair blinked, her mind going completely blank.
Her gaze accidentally t his deep, bottomless eyes. A strange, bewitching force tugged at her heart, as if it wanted to pull her down into The Inferno.
’She was starting to notice a pattern. Whenever she said the wrong thing without aning to, if he didn’t scold her, he would kiss her.’
’So what’s the deal this ti?’
...
Adrian Quincy truly was a "busy man." He made a special trip ho to apply ointnt for her, kissed her until the world spun, and then took his leave.
As he left, he said, "Go visit Grandpa at the hospital when you have a chance."
Seeing as the guy had made a special trip back just to treat her injury, Claire Sinclair decided she would go visit Grandpa White-beard at the hospital that very day.
...
The hospital was filled with the strong sll of disinfectant. Claire Sinclair didn’t like it, so she covered her nose with her hand, only lowering it once she’d grown accustod to the scent.
She took the elevator to the 11th floor and went straight to room 1101.
As she approached the door, she could hear voices from inside.
"Grandpa, please don’t be mad that my brother hasn’t co to visit. The election is just around the corner, and this is probably the busiest he’s ever been in his life. That’s why I’ve co to see you in his place! Aren’t you happy I ca, Grandpa?"
"Of course Grandpa is happy to see you, Yara. But that rascal of a brother of yours... he’s almost thirty and only just now registered his marriage with Quinn. Yara, when you go back, you have to convince your sister-in-law to hurry things along. Tell her to get right on it and give a great-grandchild with your brother."
Yara Quincy was stunned. "Grandpa, what did you just say?"
The old man thought his granddaughter simply hadn’t heard him because he was speaking too quietly, so he raised his voice. "I said, you tell your brother and Quinn to hurry up and give a great-grandchild! State affairs are important, but family affairs can’t fall by the wayside."
Yara Quincy said frantically, "No, Grandpa, that’s not what I ant! You said my brother and Quinn got their marriage license? When did this happen? How co I don’t know anything about it?"
’Quinn died in the line of duty two years ago. But my brother was afraid it would devastate Grandpa, so he never told him.’
’If what Grandpa just said is true, then the person who actually married my brother is...’
’It can’t be...???’
The re thought of that possibility seed unbelievable to Yara Quincy, and almost impossible to accept.
’Quinn had been a prodigy at the training camp. Later, she was assigned to be my brother’s personal bodyguard. She stayed by his side until that one mission, the one she had to lead personally... and she never ca back.’
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