Love Unspoken

Alexander's gaze was fixed on the screen of his phone, his attention so engrossed that Getty couldn't help but peer over his shoulder. Her curiosity, however, quickly turned to shock as she took in the images displayed on the screen.

He wasn't engrossed in some random activity, he was scrolling through Instagram. The social media platform had been abuzz with information about their relationship in recent days.

Mr. Cox, with his massive following of over 20 million fans, was at the center of it all. His fans, driven by their fervor, had come to the conclusion that Getty had seduced him.

Consequently, they had taken to Alexander's Instagram, leaving comments and hurling accusations at Getty. This onslaught had given Alexander a glimpse into the true character of this woman they were vilifying.

One particular statement had stirred up a wave of jealousy among the masses.

Getty, a woman who had allegedly seduced men far and wide, had no significant background or identity. She had only managed to step into the entertainment industry due to Alexander's influence. Yet, she was accused of betraying Alexander, even as he stood by her side.

It was a common belief that if someone was significantly superior to you, you would envy them. However, if they were only slightly better, you might become jealous.

Getty fell into the first category. Apart from her beauty, she had nothing. Yet, she had managed to win Alexander's favor, leading many to believe they could do the same. So why was it Getty, they wondered?

"Why are you still looking at this?" Alexander asked, tucking his phone away and turning to Getty. "Have you made your decision?"

Getty nodded, her enthusiasm for shopping having waned. "I've already picked what I want."

Alexander took out his card from his pocket and handed it to the salesperson.

The salesperson promptly processed the payment, packaged the wet clothes Getty had changed out of, and handed them to her with a respectful nod. A hint of envy flickered in their eyes.

The recent incident at the hotel had caused quite a stir, and anyone who frequented the internet would have been aware of it. Seeing Alexander and Getty in person evoked a different feeling in the salespeople. Alexander rose to his feet, suggesting, "Let's head back once we're done shopping."

Getty hurriedly said, "Aren't you coming with me?"

Alexander's gaze drifted to a spot outside where the flash of a paparazzi camera had caught his eye. He didn't immediately dismiss Getty's proposition.

Today, Getty had ventured out without any disguise, allowing herself to be photographed by the paparazzi. She wanted to show that her relationship with Alexander was still strong, and they hadn't fallen out due to the recent incident. Over time, this would naturally dispel the rumors about her and Mr. Cox. The timing was perfect, coinciding with the premiere of the new drama. It could also generate some much-needed buzz.

Many films and TV shows often created scandals before their release to generate buzz and boost ratings.

Getty looped her arm through Alexander's, whispering, "The paparazzi are following us. If we don't leave, they'll speculate and report inaccurately."

Alexander considered her words, his hand coming to rest on Getty's waist as a smile tugged at his lips. "Let's go. I'll drive you home."

Getty's heart swelled with joy, and she held him tighter, their bodies close.

They allowed the paparazzi to take their photos, the flurry of camera clicks filling the air.

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As Alexander drove Getty home, several cars trailed behind them. He glanced at the rearview mirror, a smirk playing on his lips as he calmly returned his gaze to the road and continued driving.

The night was punctuated by the sound of heavy rain, the droplets striking the roof tiles like a mournful lament.

The noise roused Quinn from her sleep. She instinctively reached out, only to find the other side of the bed empty.

She opened her eyes, her gaze landing on the vacant pillow, a shadow of sadness crossing her face.

After throwing up before bed, she was now hungry again, and her stomach began to cramp.

She climbed out of bed and descended the stairs. Ms. Miller and Ms. Moore had already retired for the night, leaving the villa eerily quiet. The rooms had been tidied up over the past few days, and the white sheets had been put away. The villa had returned to its original state.

Quinn surveyed the familiar villa, a wave of loneliness washing over her.

She poured herself a glass of water and was about to turn on the TV when a knock echoed from the front door.