Chapter 152: Chapter 152: This Is a Sign of Depravity
Claire Sinclair’s gaze met the man’s face, his brow furrowed in restraint. A frightening desire veiled his eyes—raw, naked desire.
’No way. This man is too dangerous.’
’He seduced me twice last night, and each time went on for far too long. No wonder I overslept.’
"I don’t have time for this! I’m going to work!" Claire Sinclair stood up decisively, ready to leave.
Adrian Quincy shot out a hand and grabbed her wrist. "Finish this kiss, and I can take care of you being late."
’How despicable. He’s actually trying to bribe me!’
Claire Sinclair took a step back, but her wrist was still firmly in his grasp. Blushing, she said, "Mr. Quincy, you are the master of Quincy Manor. You must have principles. You can’t abuse your authority to grant personal favors to your relatives."
"Mm."
’Mm my ass!’
Claire Sinclair retorted irritably, "That’s just corrupt."
"For you, I’m more than willing."
"..."
’He needs to stop flirting with me!’
Claire Sinclair protested, "It’s not going to work on me, even if you say things like that. I’m a woman of principle. If you keep this up, I’ll write a negative story about you."
"Claire," the man called her name.
Claire Sinclair was momentarily speechless. "What is it?"
"I’ll give you a ride."
"Huh? Don’t you have work?" Claire Sinclair was a bit taken aback, and even flattered. ’He’s actually going to drive me himself? Why is he suddenly not busy anymore?’
"I need to discuss something with Henry Hartwell."
’Why didn’t he just say so...’
Claire Sinclair finally breathed a sigh of relief. But on second thought, something still felt off.
"You’re going to see him, but what does that have to do with me? It won’t change the fact that I’m late. I don’t need you to drive me, I’ll go myself. My perfect attendance bonus for the month is shot anyway..."
’Losing the perfect attendance bonus was one thing, but I haven’t even been paid a single cent of my salary yet.’
’It’s practically a sin for someone as broke as me to be late. It’s a waste of time, a waste of life. I can’t keep falling into these bad habits.’
With that, Claire Sinclair decisively shook his hand off and turned to leave.
A pang of disappointment hit Adrian Quincy. He instinctively followed, sliding his arm around her slim waist and walking out with her.
Claire Sinclair turned her head to look at him. "Mr. Quincy, I’m being serious. You don’t have to drive me. It’s my fault I’m late. You don’t need to make excuses for me."
"I won’t make excuses for you, but I do have to go over there. I have important business."
"Alright, fine. I can hitch a ride with you, but you have to drop me off before we get there."
Adrian Quincy nodded.
That finally eased Claire Sinclair’s concerns.
After getting into the car, Claire Sinclair felt drowsy. Eventually, she couldn’t fight off the sleepiness any longer and drifted off.
Adrian Quincy gently rested her head on his shoulder to make her more comfortable. Once he was sure she was asleep, he quietly said to Aiden Howkins, "Slow down. Claire didn’t sleep well last night."
Aiden Howkins instantly understood the unspoken message. He silently slowed the car and changed their course, deliberately picking the longest possible route.
...
By the time the car arrived at the base of Astoria Tower, it was already eleven-thirty.
Out of habit, Claire Sinclair woke her phone to check the time.
A second later, her eyes shot wide. ’Am I dreaming?!’
’It’s only a twenty-minute drive from Quincy Manor to the Astoria Daily Press, so why is it eleven-thirty?!’
Just as she was about to ask, Adrian Quincy spoke calmly, "Should I get out first, or should you?"
’Damn it all!’
’We’re right at the entrance, and the license plate is in plain view. What difference does it make who gets out first?’
Claire Sinclair asked irritably, "Mr. Quincy, why did it take so long to get here from Quincy Manor...?"
