I Married the President

Chapter 270: Chapter 270: She’s Done For

Before she could finish her sentence, Yara Quincy suddenly screamed in agony. The man had abruptly twisted her arm behind her back, forcefully breaking it!

The pain was agonizing... WAHHH...

Yara Quincy burst into tears on the spot. Daring not to say another careless word, she began to beg for mercy. ”Brother, I know I was wrong! Please, spare me! I didn’t mean for her to miscarry. I regret it so much, I really do... WAHHH...”

As she spoke, her tears fell uncontrollably—not from genuine remorse, but from agony and terror.

’My brother still found out. I’m done for.’

Adrian Quincy, still twisting the girl’s immobilized arm, slowly leaned down. He whispered frigidly into her ear, ”Yara, you killed my and Claire’s child.”

”I... I... I know I was wrong, Brother! I know I was wrong! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... WAHHH...”

”You know you were wrong?”

”Yes, yes! I know I was wrong, I really do!”

”And where, exactly, were you wrong?” As he spoke, Adrian Quincy straightened his back, glaring down at his sister’s tear-streaked face. His gaze was cold and merciless, and his large hand never loosened its grip on her broken arm.

In agony and terror, Yara Quincy didn’t dare meet her brother’s gaze and spoke in a pleading tone.

”I shouldn’t have hit my sister-in-law. I shouldn’t have struck her stomach. I shouldn’t have hidden the miscarriage from her... I really know I was wrong, Brother! I even sent her supplements for her blood, and I apologized! She’s doing fine now, nothing is wrong with her at all! Brother, believe me, she’s perfectly fine—Ah!”

Before she could finish, the man tossed her aside.

Adrian Quincy’s face was devoid of expression. ”Take her back. File a lawsuit in my name. The charges are intentional harm against my wife, resulting in a miscarriage. The conduct is vile, and she shows no remorse. See that she is punished severely.”

”Yes, sir!” Aiden Howkins affirmed. He motioned for two of his men, and they stepped forward to haul Yara Quincy up.

Yara Quincy’s face went white the moment she heard her own brother was going to press charges against her.

Under the laws of Aridia, inducing a miscarriage in a pregnant woman was equivalent to homicide. The minimum sentence was five years; the maximum was ten.

Five years, ten years—it didn’t matter. She didn’t want any of it. By the time she got out of prison, she’d be old. What would be the point of her life then?

At these thoughts, Yara Quincy couldn’t stop herself from struggling. ”Brother, don’t take me! I don’t want to go to prison! Brother, I really know I was wrong... Brother...”

Though his sister was wailing and screaming, Adrian Quincy turned a deaf ear. He turned his back on her without a trace of emotion and left the hospital without a single look back.

...

The cold virus was a nasty one. By the time Claire Sinclair got back to the newspaper office, her body had given out. It was a struggle just to lift her head. Unable to continue working, she collapsed onto her desk to rest.

Henry Hartwell happened to come out of his office, planning to ask her for the photos. But when he saw her slumped motionlessly over her desk, he immediately knew something was wrong.

”Claire Sinclair. Wake up.”

The girl didn’t respond.

’Damn it, she’s burning up!’

Without a second thought, Henry Hartwell swept her into his arms and carried her out, moving as quickly as he could.

When he reached the first-floor lobby via the elevator, an imposing, powerful figure was walking in through the main entrance.

Henry Hartwell felt like he’d found a savior. He hurried over. ”Perfect timing. Claire Sinclair is sick—she’s passed out. Here, you take her.”

Adrian Quincy carefully took her into his arms. Without a word, he walked out, his expression complex.

Once in the car, Adrian Quincy held the girl’s limp body tightly, wishing he could transfer all of his own strength into her, just to see her back to her old self.

’His Claire... she’s gotten so thin...’

’She must have had such a hard time lately. She never recovered properly after the miscarriage, and she even kept forcing herself to work. And now, she’s finally collapsed.’

The thought of how little she knew about her own body, how she hadn’t even realized she was pregnant or that she’d miscarried, her innocence, her helplessness... his heart ached so much it felt like it was about to split in two.

’Claire, I’m so sorry. For all the pain and hurt you’ve had to endure, I am so, so sorry.’