Love Unspoken

"Do you truly believe she intends to reveal the world to you, Quinn? We've shared two decades together, yet you persist in your defiance," he said. His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and disappointment. A flutter of panic danced along Quinn's lashes. How was it that he seemed privy to her every thought, her every move? Then, it dawned on her. Her phone, which had been fully charged upon her awakening that morning, had been compromised. He had tampered with it. No wonder his arrival had been so timely.

As the realization sank in, Quinn's breath hitched, her face flushing a deep crimson. She looked up at the towering figure above her, her eyes welling with unshed tears.

Her eyes were an embodiment of innocence, radiating vulnerability rather than the typical charm of cuteness. At first glance, one wouldn't find her adorable, but rather strikingly innocent. Especially when those round orbs locked onto someone, they conveyed a profound, almost compassionate sorrow.

Her beauty was otherworldly, and Alexander had spent countless hours attempting to encapsulate it in words. The term that seemed most fitting was 'fairy'. She was like a fairy straight out of ancient lore, ethereal and elusive. Every time Alexander found himself lost in those eyes, his fiercest anger would dissipate. It wasn't difficult to envision her being swept away by a stranger on the street or disappearing with the merest whisper of a breeze.

Suddenly, a laugh erupted from Alexander, his anger evaporating into the sound. To Quinn, however, his laughter was more terrifying than his rage.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

"But she won't have the chance to whisk you away anymore," Alexander declared, his voice laced with a chilling certainty.

Quinn's pupils dilated in panic as she stammered, "What are you planning?"

"You'll discover soon enough," he replied, his grip around her neck loosening. His touch grazed her cheek, gentle once again, "There are repercussions for disobedience."

A sense of foreboding washed over Quinn as she stared blankly at Alexander. For a fleeting moment, he felt like a stranger to her.

Alexander's demeanor had shifted back to calm, as if the anger that had previously contorted his face had been nothing more than an illusion. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, fell into a momentary silence, then turned to Quinn, "Stay put at home."

With that, he walked away, not once looking back.

Once he was gone, the tension that had gripped Quinn began to ebb away, leaving her drained. She collapsed onto the couch, her body heavy with exhaustion.

A sharp pain radiated from her elbow. Pulling up her sleeve to inspect it, she found her skin scraped raw. She wondered if Abigail had been injured.

The thought of Abigail, coupled with Alexander's ominous words, propelled Quinn to reach for her phone. But the realization that Alexander had tampered with it caused her fingers to freeze. She found herself unable to type a single message. In defeat, she tossed the phone back onto the couch, covering her eyes with her hand. Alexander had never revealed his cruel side to her before. She had no idea what he was capable of doing to Abigail.

But she was about to find out.

That evening, the news flashed across her television screen. Abigail had been involved in a street racing accident.

Quinn's eyes widened at the blurred image on the screen, her body trembling uncontrollably. Abigail and a group of wealthy adolescents had been racing. On their return journey, their car had careened into a crowd of spectators. Abigail had killed someone.