Love Unspoken

In the persistent glow of the lights, Alexander watched Quinn wince, his actions momentarily stilled by her reaction. He gently grasped her wrist, rolling up the sleeve of her blouse to reveal an array of scrapes and a bruise of concerning size. His fingers traced the edge of her collar, pulling it down to expose another bruise marring her shoulder. He looked up, his gaze meeting hers. Quinn's eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting ever so slightly. It took a beat for her to gather the strength to respond.

"Why didn't you treat this?" Alexander questioned, peeling back a bandage to reveal an untreated wound beneath. Quinn's eyes fluttered open, a mask of resilience hiding the pain etched on her face as she signed, "It's nothing. Not serious." She had hesitated to apply any medication, acutely aware of the potential impact on their unborn child, who was in a delicate state.Alexander got off the bed and rummaged through their drawers and cabinets. He returned moments later, his hands conspicuously empty.

"Where's our first-aid kit?" he inquired, a note of frustration creeping into his voice. It was always Quinn who kept their home in order, a fact that struck him as ironic given his unfamiliarity with his own home.

Quinn merely shook her head in response. She had made the decision to forgo any medication, signing, "We don't have a first-aid kit."A frown creased Alexander's forehead as he moved to guide her towards the door. "Let's just go to the hospital then," he suggested.Quinn paused, rapidly dismissing his suggestion with a flurry of frantic gestures.

"No need to trouble yourself. I've taken care of it. It's really fine. It's already scabbed over," she signed, her movements quick and precise. "I'm tired. I want to sleep," she added.Alexander scrutinized her for a moment, his gaze probing. "You sure you don't want to go?"Quinn's head bobbed with rapid shakes, her gestures desperate in their insistence. "Okay, we won't go," Alexander finally conceded, settling back into the bed.

This time, he refrained from any further actions, simply wrapping his arm around her waist as they drifted off to sleep. The bedroom light remained on, its intrusive glare a testament to Alexander's aversion to darkness. Over time, the light in their bedroom was seldom turned off.

They were married three years ago. Sharing a room, it was the first time Alexander had kissed her. Quinn had looked at him with a naive expression, while Alexander had stared back for a long while, admitting it felt like he was committing a crime.

Back then, Quinn had thought that was how love between a man and a woman was confirmed. So, she obediently followed his lead. But she later realized that wasn't love. It was lust, a marital duty. She was told that such intimacies could be just as sensual without love. Love and sex were never the same thing. When Quinn woke again, it was already noon.

Her first instinct was to check her phone, but her friend Abigail still hadn't responded. Quinn's heart sank as her messages seemed to have disappeared into a void. She understood that Abigail might blame her for a good reason. After all, Quinn was the cause of the whole thing.

Quinn thought, 'That's right. How can someone like me ever have friends?'She sat numbly on the sofa, the TV blaring since the evening before. She cranked up the volume, but even that couldn't mask the chill emptiness of the villa. Oliver had agreed to Alexander's terms to assist with customs affairs. However, the ordeal with Abigail was far from controlled. In fact, it was escalating.

The Vanderbilt family's stocks plummeted daily, evaporating billions in just days. Their father's hair turned grey in a matter of days.Abigail stood at the doorway of the study with a complex expression as she gazed at her father's wearied form. It took nothing more than a flick of Alexander's finger to cause her actions to ripple disastrously through the entire Vanderbilt family.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.