I Married the President

In the blink of an eye, Cecily Taylor’s birthday arrived. Adrian Quincy still hadn’t returned; he’d said something came up and he wouldn’t be back until the afternoon.

At three o’clock that afternoon, the four mentors finished recording the show. Cecily Taylor extended a warm invitation to the other three: "Everyone, tonight’s my birthday. I’m cordially inviting you to my party. If you don’t come, it’d be a real slap in the face, you know."

Mimi Fisher and Master glanced at each other, then looked in unison toward Claire Sinclair as if to ask her opinion.

Claire Sinclair was silent for a moment before saying, "I have a few things to take care of tonight. I’ll see if I have time afterward. If I do, I’ll definitely stop by."

Hearing this, Cecily Taylor’s face darkened, but she forced a polite smile. "Professor Sinclair, you simply must come. Otherwise, if Professor Fisher and Mr. Mason see you’re not coming, they won’t come either. Then the netizens will start saying we don’t get along."

Claire Sinclair deliberately feigned a troubled expression. "I’ll try my best."

Cecily Taylor wanted to hit someone.

Claire Sinclair gathered her things, ready to head back to the hotel. Her man should have returned by this time, and she was starting to miss him.

As she walked outside and was about to get into her car, Mimi Fisher suddenly approached and called out to her, "Professor Sinclair."

Claire Sinclair looked at him, puzzled. "What is it, Professor Fisher?"

Mimi Fisher walked up to her and offered a gentle warning. "If you’re going to her birthday party, you’d better bring Young Master Quincy with you. Otherwise, don’t go. It’s a trap."

Claire Sinclair was taken aback. "How do you know?"

"I accidentally overheard her talking to her assistant once. That woman is incredibly jealous. I fell for one of her schemes once before, too. A lot of people in this industry use dirty tricks to stay popular. You’re not from our world, but you’ve given me hope."

Claire felt a little embarrassed. "I’m just doing my job. It’s not as complicated as you think."

"At least you have the courage to do things your way. And all this time, I’ve never seen you with an assistant. Do you not need one, or can you just not find anyone?"

Claire Sinclair smiled. "I may not have an assistant, but I have a driver."

Mimi Fisher instinctively glanced at the man in the driver’s seat. The man’s dignified, imposing presence made him instantly understand her meaning.

"Right. Got it. So, will you go tonight?"

"Since it’s a trap, of course I’m going. If I don’t, she won’t give up and will just keep causing trouble for me down the line."

Mimi Fisher laughed. "So that’s the kind of person you are. You know there’s a tiger on the mountain, but you head straight for it anyway."

"I just don’t want to be constantly targeted. And I don’t want people saying I’m throwing my weight around or anything. You know my reputation isn’t the best,"

Mimi Fisher said, "You have a great attitude. In that case, I’ll see you tonight. If you’re going, I’m going too."

Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"No reason. Maybe I can be of some help."

"I can see it written on your face: ’A gossipy heart beats within us all...’"

"Haha..." Mimi Fisher chuckled. "Alright, you caught me. I admit I want to see the fireworks. I’m not going to lie."

Claire Sinclair shot him a look, said, "I’m heading back. See you later," and got into the car.

Back in her hotel room, she saw The Great Demon King Quincy walking out of the bathroom just as she entered. His hair was still dripping, a towel was wrapped around his waist, and—to her shock—his chest was bound in thick gauze!

Claire Sinclair’s heart clenched. She hurried over, not daring to hug him. Instead, she just raised a hand to touch the bloodstained gauze, her fingertips trembling slightly.

"Adrian, you’re hurt..."