I Married the President

The more Claire Sinclair heard the name "Little Idiot," the more it bothered her, so she reminded him, "Mr. Kingsley, even though Third Miss Tanner has the intelligence of an eight-year-old, I hope you can treat her with respect."

Ethan Kingsley was slightly taken aback, but then nodded in understanding. "In that case, I’ll just call her Little Cutie."

Claire Sinclair said, "Third Miss Tanner is a poor soul. If she isn’t happy with you, I will do everything I can to bring her to live with me."

Ethan Kingsley chuckled. "Oh, I can’t have that. I could hand almost anything over to you, but not Little Cutie."

Claire Sinclair looked at him, surprised. "I didn’t take you for someone so protective of your own."

"I’m not protective of just anyone. To me, Little Cutie is a responsibility. If I can’t even take care of her, how can I manage the bigger picture?" Ethan Kingsley said with a contrived smile.

’So insincere.’

That was Claire Sinclair’s only thought, but she still said politely, "It’s good that you can think that way. Your awareness has really improved."

"It’s all thanks to Reporter Sinclair’s excellent guidance," Ethan Kingsley fawned shamelessly.

Claire Sinclair shook her shoulders as if trying to shake off goosebumps. She didn’t even want to deal with him anymore. ’He’s so annoying.’

Instead, she grabbed her husband’s hand and fell silent.

Adrian Quincy glanced down at her small hand and asked in a low voice, "What’s wrong?"

"My feet are sore from standing so long. I want to sit down."

"Let’s go sit in the back."

The area behind them was the audience section. Adrian Quincy led her by the hand, and they sat down side-by-side.

Seeing this, Ethan Kingsley shook his head helplessly. ’Under the circumstances, I’d better not be a third wheel.’

-

After the long day of shooting, Claire Sinclair and her husband were finally able to return to their hotel to rest.

Unfortunately, before Claire Sinclair could even lie down, she got a call from Ethan Kingsley.

Claire Sinclair didn’t want to answer, but she worried it might be Ivy Tanner calling, so she picked up. "Hello?"

"Sinclair, it’s me, it’s me!" Ivy Tanner’s happy voice came from the other end, but a man’s voice quickly cut in, "Little Cutie, I told you not to disturb her so late."

"Sinclair..." Ivy Tanner immediately started to pout.

Claire Sinclair said, "Ivy, it’s late. You should get some rest. I’ll come see you tomorrow morning."

"Okay, okay! Good night, Sinclair!"

The call ended.

Claire Sinclair put down her phone and looked up at the man sitting at the temporary desk, handling work matters. "Adrian, aren’t you going to sleep?"

"I’ll sleep once I’m finished. You go ahead and rest," the man said, his back to her.

Claire Sinclair didn’t listen. She threw back the covers, got out of bed, walked up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"What’s wrong?" Adrian Quincy raised a hand to hold her arm.

Claire Sinclair whispered tiredly in his ear, "I just suddenly wanted to hug you."

"Just a little more, I’m almost done. Lie down and wait for me."

"No, I’ll just hold you like this. You keep working."

Adrian Quincy sounded a bit helpless. "Claire, I can’t concentrate when you’re like this."

"I don’t care. It’s your own fault for not taking breaks, and you’re doing it right in front of me. You promised me before that you would balance work and rest. You were just brushing me off..."

Adrian Quincy slowly stood up, swooped her into his arms, and strode toward the pristine bed.

Claire Sinclair was a little startled and quickly clung to his arm. "I can walk on my own."

Adrian Quincy looked down at her, smiled, and said nothing.

Claire Sinclair’s face paled. "I just wanted you to get some rest! I had no other intentions, really!"

"But I have intentions for you, and that’s also the truth."

"I don’t..."

’Protests were useless. It was always like this.’