Love Unspoken

Chapter 265

Quinn's gaze darted towards the door, the barrier standing firm and undisturbed. No one had entered. A wave of

confusion washed over her, etching lines of bewilderment onto her face. Was she caught in the haze of a half-

awakened dream, or had she been visited by a hallucination?She attempted to rise, her legs having fallen asleep

after a prolonged period of sitting on the hard ground. Her limbs betrayed her, however, causing her to tumble

back onto the couch in a graceless heap. She clutched at her calves, the sensation of pins and needles prickling

her skin, her face contorting in discomfort. The sensation tugged at her injured cheek, amplifying the tightness

there. The realization dawned on her - this was no dream. Someone had drugged her. Could there be another

presence lurking in the shadows?Before she could assemble her scattered thoughts, the room's door swung

open, revealing Walter in its frame. He was attired in a beige suit, the garment accentuating his tall, lean figure

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far more than any traditional attire could. His long, straight legs seemed to rival even Alexander's in their

elegance. Walter approached her, his gaze descending to meet hers. Quinn's fingers tightened around the fabric

of the couch, her eyes wide with apprehension. After a moment, Walter crouched down and unhitched the iron

chain from her ankle. "Get cooking," he commanded. Quinn paused, processing the command before gradually

rising to her feet and limping out of the room, her legs still weak and sore. Outside, the weather had cleared, but

the sky was still cluttered with heavy clouds. They loomed oppressively over the mountain peaks, threatening to

crash down at any moment and making the vast expanse above feel claustrophobically close. She retrieved a

basket and ventured behind the house to pick vegetables, anticipating a downpour and harvesting enough to

last the day. Laden with a hefty basket of produce, she wobbled back towards the house, her shoes caked in a

thick layer of mud. She stumbled several times, the garden soil proving treacherously slippery. Quinn knelt at the

edge of the yard, scraping the mud off her shoes with a stick. From the doorway, Walter watched her figure

crouched in the yard, her coat dragging on the ground, far too long for practicality. After cleaning her shoes,

Quinn carried her vegetables to the kitchen and began the bustling activity of meal preparation-washing the

greens, chopping, and tending the fire. While washing the produce, she caught Walter's silhouette at the

doorway, staring into the distance as if waiting for someone. Sensing her gaze, he looked her way. prompting

Quinn to quickly focus back on her task. Then, she headed to the kitchen. She had just finished the meal when

the sound of a car horn caught her attention. Quinn's grip on the spatula froze. She set the plate down and

hurried to the entrance, peering stealthily around the door frame. Her fingers tensed as she watched the black

Maybach glide into the yard, her breath catching at the sight. The car cto a smooth halt, and out stepped

Alexander, clad in a black trench coat. Opposite him, in a stark white suit, stood Walter-a visual clash of

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contrasts. One in black, one in white, each on opposite ends of the yard, as if they belonged to different worlds.

"Where is she?" Alexander spoke first. Walter replied with a smile, "Been waiting on you for a while. Thought you

could keep a cool head." Alexander didn't bother with small talk. His gaze shifted, sweeping toward the kitchen

and locking eyes with Quinn, perfectly accurately. Quinn pursed her lips. He had found her so easily; Walter's

words were indeed true. She knew he wasn't unaware of her whereabouts; it was just a matter of weighing the

pros and cons. What was she worth that he would relinquish all his benefits for her? She sadly cast her eyes

down and silently retreated, taking cover behind the door. As Alexander made his way to the kitchen, he hadn't

taken two steps before a hand blocked his path. He slightly turned his head to regard Walter, the man

obstructing him. "You can't just barge in there; you'll scare her. Even if you plan to take her with you, shouldn't

you at least ask her what she wants?" Walter said. A chilling threat flickered through Alexander's indifferent «

gaze. "Walter, I'm running low on patience. Smarten up and get out of my way," he retorted icily.