Love Unspoken

Chapter 1115

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Abigail sneered, "What could he have done? He's chillin', handed the company over to Getty, and went off to have a blast. I just didn't expect him to find you." Quinn, totally floored, asked, "He handed the company over to Getty?" Abigail scoffed, "Yeah, that jerk, always acting all lovey-dovey and desperate. Everyone thought he was head over heels for you, but he just handed the whole company to Getty. Now the Kennedy Group's almost bankrupt, and you didn't even know?" Quinn pressed her lips together and stayed quiet.

She had no clue. She never paid attention to the Kennedy Group or any news about the Kennedy family.

He actually gave the company to Getty, still as generous as ever to Getty. So why did he chere? There was a long silence on the phone before Abigail spoke again, "Quinn, what's up? You haven't forgiven him and gotten back together with him, have you?" "No." Hearing this, Abigail let out a sigh of relief. "Good, don't ever get back with that jerk." "I won't," Quinn replied.

"Isn't living solo just fine for you?" Abigail asked.

Quinn held the phone and smiled. The sunlight on her body felt kinda warm.

"But you said he was acting weird. How so?" Abigail asked again.

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Quinn thought for a moment before replying, "I can't really put my finger on it." Anyway, he now felt no shin playing the victim to gain sympathy, far from the proud, arrogant, and self- respecting Alexander of the past.

"Do you know what he just said?" Quinn added.

"What?" Abigail asked.

Quinn roughly recounted the conversation earlier to Abigail. Abigail stayed quiet for a moment before bursting into deafening laughter.

"He had it coming, didn't he? Did he really say that? It's too funny," Abigail said, laughing again.

Then she added, "That's easy. Next time, get a rope and tie him up at the museum entrance. He's so fierce, he'd be great at guarding the door." Back at the villa, Quinn saw the door and felt a bit reluctant to go in.

She stood outside for several minutes before finally walking over.

Walter was sitting on the sofa, resting his head and pretending to nap. The scattered hair cast a faint shadow on his face.

Quinn instinctively lightened her steps, trying to sneak upstairs. However, after just a few steps, Walter's voice cfrom behind. "You're back?" he said.

Quinn paused and turned to look. Walter had opened his eyes and was looking at her.

He immediately noticed the dried blood on her clothes.

Seeing the blood on her clothes, Walter understood everything. He was once again amused by Alexander's antics.

"Is he badly hurt?" Walter asked.

Quinn was taken aback and looked down at the blood on her waist, which Alexander had gotten on her last night. "Don't you already know how badly he's hurt?" Quinn scoffed.

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Walter sneered, "Are you accusing me?" "You asked first," Quinn shot back.

He suddenly stood up from the sofa, dragging his injured leg, and limped towards Quinn.

Quinn looked puzzled, asking, "Why are you limping too?" "I'm faking it. Do you believe me?" Walter sneered.

Quinn was stumped by his words.

Walter said, "Anyway, in your eyes, Alexander is now a helpless, weak, and pitiful person who can only be bullied by me. You feel very sorry for him, right?" His sharp words made binied by person Quinn frown.

But Walter's words also made her suspicious. She suddenly couldn't tell who was telling the truth, Walter or Alexander.

Alexander claimed he helped an old man, while Walter accused him of faking it. Neither admitted to any harm, but both subtly blamed each re other. Sol what really happened last night before she arrived? However, she didn't want to think about it anymore. She just said nonchalantly, "Why should I feel sorry? You guys can do whatever you want. It has nothing to do with me." After saying this, Quinn walked upstairs.

She concluded that neither of them was telling the truth.

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