Love Unspoken

Kaitlyn swiftly collected herself, her posture regaining its usual dignity. "Am I mistaken?" she retorted, her voice echoing in the tense silence.

"You extend more kindness to strangers than to your own kin," she continued, her words laced with bitterness. "You treat those women, Getty, that dummy, as if they were priceless gems."

She paused, her gaze piercing Alexander as she added, "Let me make this clear, my boy. If you fail to rescue Freya, don't expect me to play nice."

Alexander met her gaze, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he responded, "And how do you intend to be 'not nice'?"

Kaitlyn scoffed, "Enough with your sarcasm. Just ensure your sister's safety. I may not have the power to save Freya, but I can certainly arrange for two people to be imprisoned."

Her threat hung heavy in the air, a clear warning to her son.

A cold, cynical smile tugged at the corners of Alexander's mouth. "Then I'd like to see you try," he challenged.

Before Kaitlyn could retort, he turned on his heel and strode away, not sparing her a backward glance.

Kaitlyn watched him go, her body trembling with suppressed rage. Her nails dug into her palms as she glared at his retreating figure. His obvious lack of concern for Freya sent a chill through her heart. She could hardly believe that this was the son she had raised.

Meanwhile, after an extended period of waiting, Quinn managed to hail a cab. She settled into the back seat, her fingers idly scrolling through her phone.

A hollow emptiness consumed her, her thoughts echoing in the void. Her eyes skimmed over the content on her screen, but she didn't truly see it. Her focus was elsewhere.

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A sudden notification caught her attention, and before she knew it, she had tapped the screen to open the entertainment news. The headline was all about Getty, the industry's rising star, and the powerhouse behind her scene-stealing presence-none other than Alexander!

The article was littered with photographs. There were numerous shots of Getty, and a few candid images of Alexander. One showed him at the airport, his arm casually slung around Getty. Another depicted him visiting Getty's home, whispering something into her ear. Despite the grainy quality, the images painted a picture of a perfect couple.

As Quinn scrolled further, she came across solo shots of Alexander. Dressed in a sharp suit, he stood amidst a crowd at an industry event, his striking features stealing the spotlight.

The article went on to detail his background: CEO of Landon Corp, stepping up as the heir apparent at just 23. The story had gone viral.

Public appearances were rare for Alexander. Many were unaware of his existence, let alone his appearance. The world was not short of wealthy individuals or young entrepreneurs, but a handsome, young CEO was a rarity that caught people's attention.

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The article was intended to highlight Getty's scandal, but the comment section was filled with admirers of Alexander. The top comment read: "Finally know the difference between a mogul and a boss." The next most popular was cheekier: "With those looks? I'd be his dog tied to the porch, let alone his lover."

Some were already referring to him as 'hubby.'

Quinn scrolled through the comments, a wry smile playing on her lips. It was amusing how people always desired the simplest and least conspicuous things they couldn't have. Then greed would kick in, and the longing would only intensify. She switched off her phone, rolled down the car window, and let in the sound of the drizzling rain. The droplets splashed against her face, their chilly touch seeping into her bones.

Suddenly, the car jolted violently. Quinn's head slammed against the window, a flash of pain blurring her vision. The driver cursed under his breath, forced to pull over and inspect the damage.

Rubbing her throbbing forehead, she saw they'd collided with a white van.