Love Unspoken

A flicker danced in the depths of Alexander's gaze as he studied Quinn's eyes. The silence between them lingered, a tangible sign that hope was not yet extinguished.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

Quinn's hands moved, signing her confession, "I get scared being home alone." As she withdrew her hand, a void seemed to form in her heart, a hollow emptiness that echoed her fear. Alexander reached out, his hand gently caressing her cheek. "Then come with me," he proposed.

Stunned, Quinn stared at him, her mind racing. Was he seriously considering taking her along to see Getty? Memories of being trapped in the car with him suddenly flooded back, and instinctively, Quinn withdrew her hand.

Rising to her feet, she gestured with her hand, "I'm heading to bed." Without a backward glance, she ascended the staircase. Just as she reached the top step, the sound of a door slamming behind her reverberated through the house, striking her like a physical blow.

Quinn spun around, her eyes fixating on the closed door in a daze. A self-deprecating smirk tugged at her lips as she pinched her arm, the sharp pain bringing her thoughts into focus. What was she even hoping for? Of course, yesterday had been nothing more than an illusion. As long as she obediently returned, he could simply ignore her with indifference. He knew how to reel her back in. In matters of the heart, only those who held control emerged as winners. Ignoring the pain that shot through her knee, Quinn had hurried off. Now, cupping her knee, she slowly sat down on the steps. She wiped her nose, perched high above the villa that seemed much larger and colder than before. The harsh light cast long shadows on the expensive furniture, making even the light seem lonely. She touched her forehead, which felt warm, but she couldn't be sure.

When Kyle Astor arrived with dinner, his eyes immediately fell on Quinn. She sat alone on the staircase, resembling a little puppy abandoned at home, eagerly waiting for its owner's return. A sour feeling twisted in Kyle's heart.

He hurried to the bottom of the stairs, looking up and calling out to her, "Quinn, come down, dinner's ready." Her vacant gaze shifted, and she looked down.

Using her hands for support, she rose, feeling a numbness in her legs. She almost tumbled down but managed to grab the handrail just in time. The near fall scared Kyle enough; a tumble could have been disastrous. "Quinn, take it easy, no rush," he urged.

Quinn descended the stairs slowly, following Kyle to the dining table where he had laid out all the food. Standing aside, he said, "Alexander instructed me to make sure you finished your meal before I leave." Quinn paused momentarily. How considerate of him. She picked up a fork, eating slowly, the food tasting bland in her mouth. Only after she finished did Kyle pack up and ready to leave, reminding her before he left, "Quinn, remember to lock the door." With that, he too was gone, and the door closed once again.

Quinn looked around the villa, the more she saw, the more it felt like a massive cage that she was locked in. Every time she thought about going out, that invisible chain around her neck would yank her back.

...

The address Getty had given was far, and it took Alexander two hours to drive there. By the time he arrived, it was nearly midnight. The set was clearing out, but Getty was still standing by the entrance, waiting. "Ms. Summer, waiting for someone?" a passing crew member asked.

"Yeah," Getty replied with a laugh, a hint of irritation hidden in her heart. Where was he?