Love Unspoken

Quinn was unsure if her silence was a form of protest.

When she thought about Alexander's indifference, especially towards their unborn child, she felt an overwhelming desire to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the villa.

At that moment, her phone vibrated in her pocket. A message from Abigail flashed on the screen.

Alexander glanced at her phone too, and without waiting for Quinn's reaction, he snatched it from her hands and read the message. Abigail: "Quinn, I've been grounded, and the cafe got raided. But I fought with them and kept your portraits. I've shipped them to you. Make sure to check your mailbox."

Quinn tensed up.

He sneered, "You're starting to ignore my rules, aren't you?"

His mocking tone made Quinn feel uneasy. She frantically shook her head, trying to explain, but he threw the phone onto the coffee table and strode toward the door.

Sensing trouble, Quinn followed him. Outside, near the villa, was a small delivery room. Alexander stormed in, kicking aside a pile of packages until he found a specific box at the bottom.

The package was indeed from Abigail. Quinn's eyes narrowed as she darted forward, shielding the box with her body."Move!" Alexander demanded.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

With tears streaming down her face, Quinn shook her head, pleading for him to spare the artworks.

They were more than just gifts; they represented her cherished friendship with Abigail. Alexander's expression darkened. He grabbed Quinn by the wrist and forcefully pulled her away.

Despite her desperate grip, the box was wrested from her. Holding the box, Alexander walked outside to the yard and flung it aside dismissively. Quinn tried to rush to it, but Alexander's firm hold restrained her.

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Alexander flicked his lighter, igniting a flame in his hand. Quinn watched, horror-stricken, as the fire danced threateningly. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

He kept his grip tight, cutting off her last means of protest. Alexander then turned to face her, his voice cold. "You care about these paintings that much?"

Her tears continued to flow as she silently begged him, her eyes pleading for mercy.

He smiled cruelly, knowing the more she cared about something, the more he relished in it's destruction. He wanted to see her treasures ruined before her eyes, leaving her with nothing but himself. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the lighter onto the box. The flame caught, slowly engulfing it as Quinn's hope drained away.

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In a desperate attempt, Quinn struggled fiercely. Unable to break free, she bit down hard on Alexander's arm.

He winced in pain and nearly released her, but maintained his hold, pulling her back by the waist.

The fire danced in her vision, and Quinn watched helplessly as the portrait peeking out from the box was consumed by flames, turning to ash.

A gust of wind intensified the fire, scattering the fragments into the air like dark snowflakes.

Alexander's grip was unyielding, her struggles and cries seemed to vanish into the wind. Quinn reached out, trying to catch the fluttering pieces of her cherished paintings, but grasped only air. Finally exhausted, Quinn collapsed against him, and he let her go. She fell to the ground a midst the swirling ashes, surrounded by the remnants of her memories.

She hadn't even had a chance to look at those paintings- it was as if they had never existed.