Love Unspoken

At that very moment, Alexander had made his arrival at the predetermined location. His gaze flickered upon sighting the diminutive wooden cabin nestled within the heart of the jungle. He exited the vehicle, the car door shutting behind him with a soft thud.

The rain had dwindled to a mere drizzle, but droplets continued to trickle down from the overhead branches, pattering against his umbrella. He held a silver suitcase in his grasp as he ventured towards the secluded cabin. The surroundings were eerily silent and devoid of any signs of life.

Upon pushing open the door of the cabin, he was met with the sight of Getty, bound to a pillar, blindfolded, and gagged. The creaking sound of the door opening caused her to jolt, her muffled sobs filling the quiet space. Alexander set down the suitcase and approached her, peeling off the tape from her mouth and lifting the blindfold from her eyes.

Recognition dawned in her eyes as she saw Alexander, tears pooling in them. She managed to choke out his name, her voice laden with emotion. Her eyes were a testament to her love for him, a love that seemed to have reached its zenith at that moment.

Alexander, however, paid her no heed, his attention focused on the iron chains that bound Getty.

"They certainly were thorough," he sneered.

The manner of her binding was an uncanny replica of the method used on Valerie's children years ago, a chilling reminder of the perpetrator's intent. This was a deliberate attempt to recreate the scene of the past crime. Getty blurted out in a panic, "Alexander, it's him, your brother-in-law!"

Alexander's reaction was minimal.

"He said he wants you to experience the pain his child has suffered. What's going on, is his child..." Getty began, but a glance from Alexander silenced her mid-sentence. Regardless, Alexander was there, ready to risk his life for her. This alone was enough to strengthen Getty's resolve to love him, regardless of his past actions. "Alexander, can you untie it?" Getty asked.

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"No, I can't," he replied. His voice was steady, devoid of any panic, a stark contrast to Getty's frantic demeanor.

Getty had every reason to be afraid. She was the one bound and helpless. If danger were to arise, Alexander could easily escape, leaving her to face her impending doom. Yet, the sight of Alexander coming to her rescue seemed to alleviate her fear, making even the prospect of death seem less daunting. "Alexander, if they really set the fire, just leave quickly. Don't worry about me."

Alexander paused momentarily, then resumed his examination of the iron chains.

Getty continued to speak, her words sounding like a final testament, "I'm really happy to see you here. I thought you really didn't love me. But now it doesn't matter anymore. Even if you don't love me, I still love you.

"If I die, then... just live a good life with that dummy, I can't trust any other woman.

"Those women were too possessive and aggressive. I didn't want the man I loved to be controlled by other women.

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"Also, don't make my memorial photo black and white. Use the one you took of me on the mountain before. That's my favorite. Just take that one photo for me. "And at my funeral, don't play sad songs, play..."

Her rambling was abruptly cut off by Alexander's stern command, "Shut up!"

She halted, about to retort, when she caught a whiff of smoke. Turning her head, she saw smoke seeping through the cracks in the wall.

Her eyes widened, her face turned ashen, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Alexander... stop it, you should leave, don't worry about me!"