Chapter 18: Chapter 18: I Don’t Need Your Belated Concern
Right now, Adrian Quincy was in a great deal of pain, though he was doing his best to endure it.
"W-what’s wrong?"
"I’m fine. Don’t move."
His expression changed in an instant. Reverting to his usual cold, heartless demeanor, he continued walking toward the exit.
’He’s obviously not fine!’
Claire Sinclair didn’t dare to move. She remembered the scar she’d seen on his neck yesterday. Odds were, he was injured. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be knitting his brows so tightly.
"Um, if you can’t handle it, just put me down. Please don’t let your hands slip and drop me halfway there. I told you, I can walk on my own..."
The man remained silent.
As they neared the entrance, Adrian Quincy suddenly set her down.
’Looks like even he knows that carrying a girl around everywhere would look bad.’
Claire Sinclair couldn’t be bothered with him and walked out of the mansion on her own. Only then did she realize it was morning. This was the first time she had ever spent the night at a man’s house.
’Come to think of it, when I saw Adrian earlier, he was in his office. Don’t tell me I took over his bed, and he just sat in his office all night?’
"You didn’t sleep last night?" Claire Sinclair couldn’t help but ask.
Adrian Quincy’s gaze dropped. His thin lips parted as he spoke, "You’ve forgotten everything about last night?"
Claire Sinclair nodded. "Mhm, I can’t remember a thing."
"..."
’Stupid woman. No wonder she didn’t have the reaction she should have. It turned out she’d forgotten.’
Seeing the murderous look on his face, Claire Sinclair knew. ’Something definitely happened last night!’
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"Are you sure you want to hear?" His voice was filled with disdain.
Claire Sinclair nodded eagerly.
The man walked up to her, leaned in close, and whispered in her ear so that only she could hear, "Last night, you grabbed my hand..."
"A-and did what?"
"****."
His words were like a bomb going off inside her head.
Her face instantly flushed beet red, and she stammered, "I... I was drugged... Please don’t... don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not that kind of girl... A-and... please don’t tell anyone else about this..."
Seeing her look as if she were about to collapse, Adrian Quincy felt a pang of regret. He shouldn’t have brought up something so vulgar.
"If anything like this happens again, call me directly. My people can be there in five minutes, tops. Of course, I’d hope you’ll use your head a bit more from now on. Try not to make me pay the price for your foolishness."
’Screw you!’
Claire Sinclair snapped, "I don’t have your number."
Adrian Quincy suddenly held out his hand to her. "Give me your phone."
"It’s dead."
So, Adrian Quincy took out his own phone. "Number."
"18..."
After saving the number, Adrian Quincy sent a text and put his phone away.
He moved so quickly that Claire couldn’t see what he’d typed, but she felt a small flicker of anticipation nonetheless.
Just as she was about to leave, Adrian Quincy stopped her. "Did I say you could go?"
Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"What’s this about being drugged?"
Claire Sinclair remained silent.
’Why is he asking me this now? He didn’t ask when I could have used some comfort, and now that I’ve moved past it, I don’t want to talk about something so humiliating.’
Adrian Quincy said, displeased, "Speak."
"What’s there to say? I’ll just chalk it up to bad luck. I don’t need your belated concern."
Adrian Quincy’s eyes narrowed, a chill emanating from his gaze. "I’m speaking to you civilly. You will do the same."
Claire Sinclair looked up at him, unafraid of his warning. "Well, I just don’t want to tell you."