I Married the President

Chapter 378: Chapter 378: Bring the Hard Proof

Since he had come all this way, Claire Sinclair felt she couldn’t just turn him away. She would give him a few minutes.

"All right. Speak. I’m listening." With that, she pretended to check the time on her watch, but she was actually activating its recording function.

Harrison Lynch said, "Reporter Sinclair, I have a tip for you. Shayna Ryan’s death wasn’t a suicide! She was forced to jump by those people. She was murdered!"

Claire frowned. "Do you have any proof?"

"Proof? Proof..." Harrison Lynch’s bravado instantly deflated. Clearly, he had none.

Claire said impatiently, "If you want me to run this story, you need to bring me hard proof. Otherwise, there’s nothing anyone can do for you."

Harrison Lynch fell silent for a long moment before saying in a low voice, "I’ll go home and look for it. Reporter Sinclair, please, you have to get justice for Shayna Ryan!"

With that, he turned and left.

Claire let out a breath and walked to the curb. As if on cue, Landon Winston pulled the car over.

As soon as she got in the car, Landon Winston asked, "Young Madam, who was that?"

"An old interview subject."

"I saw him hanging around downstairs for a long time, looking all shady. I thought he was a thief and almost went after him."

Claire laughed at his remark. "You’re so vigilant. He was wearing a mask because he was worried about being secretly photographed. Not everyone who lingers is a bad person."

"All right, whatever you say." Landon Winston said no more and drove on in silence.

-

As they were nearing Evergreen Garden, Claire Sinclair suddenly remembered something.

She had promised to cook for a certain someone that morning, but she’d gotten so busy that it had completely slipped her mind.

’I’m so dead!’

She scrambled to call him, and he picked up almost instantly. "Mr. Quincy, about that... I..."

"I just finished making you dinner. Are you almost home?"

"Uh... I’m at the door now." Claire felt a surprising pang of guilt.

"Come on in."

"Okay."

Claire hung up, feeling terribly guilty.

The moment she walked in the door, she smelled something delicious cooking.

"I smell braised pork belly!" Claire exclaimed in delight as she hurried into the dining room.

Adrian Quincy took off his apron and hung it to one side. He walked over to her, wrapped her in his arms, and finished with a familiar kiss on her forehead.

"What kept you so late today?"

"I stayed late at the newsroom to write my novel and lost track of time. I’m sorry."

"It’s all right. Let’s eat."

"Okay, I’ll go wash my hands first!" Claire chirped, happily skipping off to the washroom. When she came out with her hands clean, Adrian Quincy had already served her a bowl of rice.

She had never imagined she would have a man by her side who doted on her so much, someone to spend the long years with.

This feeling was true happiness.

Claire felt a surge of emotion, and her eyes began to sting. She looked up at the man’s gentle, handsome face. "Mr. Quincy, you seem to have had a lot of free time today."

"Not at all. I wasn’t feeling well, so I came home early to rest."

"What’s wrong?" Claire couldn’t see the slightest hint that he was unwell. ’Did he hide it that well, or am I just that oblivious?’

The corners of Adrian Quincy’s lips lifted slightly. "Don’t worry, it’s just a cold and a cough. I already ate before you got back. I’ll be perfectly fine in a couple of days."

But Claire couldn’t help but worry, muttering under her breath, "You were sick and I didn’t even know..."

Adrian Quincy smiled. "Well, you know now, don’t you?"

"That’s only because you told me! I wouldn’t have known otherwise!"

"So, I should tell you every time I get sick from now on?"

"No."

"Why not?"