I Married the President

Chapter 328: Chapter 328: If You Won’t Be His Wife, Who Will?

This was a very serious question.

But Claire Sinclair didn’t have to think hard to know the answer. ”It would corrupt people’s values, the social climate would worsen, and it could ultimately harm the nation.”

”You’re right. I can tell you quite frankly, Phoebe Lockwood exhausted all her connections in the Ministry of Culture and still couldn’t get a journalist license. That’s because the review board isn’t in the Ministry of Culture. It’s a joint assessment conducted by three departments. Do you know which three?”

Claire Sinclair shook her head honestly. ”I don’t.”

Henry Hartwell smiled. ”Arthur Lockwood, Julian Shaw, and Young Master Quincy. A journalist license is only issued with a unanimous vote from these three leaders. You should understand that these three departments are always checking and balancing one another, so any talent they all approve of is bound to be the most capable.”

Hearing this, Claire Sinclair felt like she was beginning to understand.

Arthur Lockwood represented The Presidential Palace, Julian Shaw represented Congress, and Adrian Quincy represented Quincy Manor.

’So Adrian Quincy was one of the reviewers, too,’ she thought. ’I wonder if he went easy on me...’

As if reading her mind, Henry Hartwell said, ”Young Master Quincy is the kind of person who would never compromise his principles, no matter how much he loves you. He doesn’t go easy on anyone. If he did, Yara wouldn’t have been sentenced to ten years in prison.”

”That’s true...” Claire Sinclair found herself agreeing with him completely.

’But wait,’ she thought. ’Didn’t Adrian Quincy say that case was confidential? How does Teacher Hartwell know about it?’

Claire Sinclair couldn’t help but ask, ”Teacher Hartwell, how did you know Yara Quincy was sentenced?”

”Mrs. Quincy called me. She told me what happened and begged me to plead with Young Master Quincy on her behalf. I ignored her. They went too far.”

Claire Sinclair silently gave him a thumbs-up. ”Teacher Hartwell, I’m with you on this one.”

A smile touched Henry Hartwell’s lips. ”You’re a soldier now. Our weapons aren’t knives or guns, but our pens. Now that you have your license, you have to shoulder the mission of a journalist. You can’t just get a divorce and think you can wash your hands of it all.”

”But my being a journalist has nothing to do with Mr. Quincy’s presidential campaign, right?” Claire Sinclair genuinely wanted to stay out of it. She couldn’t help it; she was a coward.

Henry Hartwell’s brow furrowed slightly as he said in all seriousness, ”I’ve told you before, a journalist needs to see the bigger picture. If Young Master Quincy doesn’t become president, Ethan Kingsley will. He has a lot of money, but that money would never be spent on the people. It would only be used to consolidate his power. Young Master Quincy is different. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you why.”

’He was right.’ Adrian Quincy would personally lead a team into disaster-stricken areas to provide relief, while Ethan Kingsley would just throw money at the problem.

’As for where that money ended up, or whether the disaster areas ever recovered—Ethan Kingsley wouldn’t care about any of that. But Adrian Quincy was different...’

”Teacher Hartwell, I can stand with him, but I don’t want to be the First Lady.”

”If you won’t be his wife, then who will?”

Claire Sinclair found she couldn’t answer that question.

If he were just the master of Quincy Manor, there would be many choices. But a presidential candidate was different. The woman fit to be with him had to be someone who could help his political career.

This was a world Claire Sinclair had never been exposed to, so she didn’t know how to respond.

Henry Hartwell’s lips curved upward in a smile. ”You always say you can’t compare to your sister. In truth, the power of the pen in your hand far surpasses the power of the gun in hers. Your sister sacrificed her life for justice to save a few people. Your name could likewise be recorded in the annals of history, your legacy celebrated for generations.”

”...”

’How terrifying.’