Love Unspoken

Walter observed with a slight smirk as Quinn methodically shed her garments.

She then positioned herself facing the wall, as though she yearned to disappear into its cold, unyielding surface. Her raven hair tumbled down her back, its darkness a stark contrast against her porcelain skin. "Pants," he commanded.

Quinn's spine rigidified at the command. Her fingers, tightly gripping her arms, blanched. Her lithe, fragile form trembled within the water's icy embrace.

She had relinquished all hope of salvation.

For she knew, from countless pleas and cries for help, that no one would come. No one had ever extended a helping hand, not even a mere gesture of sympathy.

She was no longer the naive child of her past, protected by others.

Ulysses was gone.

Alexander had withdrawn his affection.

Her world had transformed into a barren wasteland, devoid of life and warmth. Even the sole person who had once cared for her as a friend was now under Walter's control. What was the point of her struggles, her dignity?

Quinn surrendered. She ceased her resistance. 'Whatever Walter desires, I'll comply.

'If he commands me to strip, I'll strip. If he wishes for my death, I'll meet it head-on.

one cares for

'It doesn't matter.'

bathroom's chill had seeped into her bones, or maybe Walter's torment had finally broken

began to spin. A familiar wave of vertigo

form wavered, and she

...

day since Quinn's disappearance,

paced the villa's courtyard, anxiety

calm. He continued his work as if nothing

he seemed even more diligent than before, almost making it a point to return home

thoughts remained a mystery

villa's door

hurried over, but Alexander's demeanor remained unflappable, his gaze distant. After a cursory glance

slid into the driver's seat, casting a glance at

reclined in his seat, his head slightly tilted,

the silence. He started the car

into the elevator together. Walter took a

at him, "Why bother finding