Love Unspoken

Gently, Alexander set Quinn down, his phone silenced and discarded. He then took a seat beside her, his presence a quiet accompaniment as she began her meal.

For a moment, Quinn simply stared at him, her utensils untouched. Then, with a silent resignation, she began to eat.

There was an oddity to Alexander's behavior, a peculiar insistence on feeding her. He would extend a Sebastian towards her, and with a reluctant acceptance, she would part her lips to accept the mouthful of corn porridge. Casting a sidelong glance at Alexander, Quinn found herself puzzled by his actions. Regardless of her appetite, he persisted in his feeding, as if she were incapable of eating on her own.

His actions, whether it was bathing her or feeding her, made Quinn feel like a plaything. It reminded her of her own childhood, when she would dress up her dolls and comb their hair. She was his doll now.

After thirty minutes, Quinn found herself unable to consume another bite. She tilted her head, a silent plea for respite.

"Just one more bite. Be a good girl," Alexander coaxed.

With a small pout, Quinn touched her already full belly, forcing herself to swallow the piece of meat despite the nausea threatening to rise.

Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Quinn blinked in surprise, her gaze shifting to Alexander.

He frowned, a moment of contemplation before he set down his utensils. "You should go upstairs and rest," he suggested.

Without a word, Quinn rose and began her ascent.

Alexander moved to answer the door, revealing a drenched Getty on the doorstep.

As soon as the door swung open, she rushed in, throwing herself into Alexander's arms.

"Alexander, why didn't you answer my call?"Quinn, who had nearly reached the top of the stairs, instinctively turned at the sound of sobbing. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the sight of Alexander and Getty locked in an embrace. The scene was a harsh reality, a slap to her face that left her disoriented. The man who had been so attentive to her just moments ago was now holding another woman.

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Her emotions felt like a cruel joke.

Alexander, meanwhile, looked down at Getty and asked, "Why are you here?"

Tears streaming down her face, Getty looked up at him, her voice desperate. "Alexander, are you mad at me? I can explain."

"No need to explain. I trust you," Alexander cut her off before she could finish.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Quinn felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She rushed to the bathroom, clutching the toilet as she vomited.

Getty was momentarily stunned by his words, her tears forgotten. "You... do you believe me?"

Alexander brushed away the damp strands of hair from her face, his expression unreadable. "Of course."

If you're loving the book, nel5s.org is where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience-all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! His words didn't sound like a lie, leaving Getty at a loss for words. She felt a surge of guilt and sadness at the realization that she was no longer important to Alexander. "I..." she began, intending to deny any wrongdoing. But faced with Alexander's trusting gaze, she found herself unable to lie.

With a serious expression, Alexander smoothed her hair back. "It's okay. You don't need to say anything. You're all wet."

He then turned to Ms. Miller, instructing her to fetch some clothes for Getty.

Caught off guard, Ms. Miller asked, "Which room is Getty's?"

The close relationship between Getty and Alexander had left her confused, especially with another woman upstairs. The lives of the rich were indeed chaotic. "Just grab any. Hurry up!" Alexander urged.

Startled, Ms. Miller quickly ascended the stairs, knocking on Quinn's bedroom door. However, Quinn was still in the bathroom, her retching drowning out the sound from outside.