Love Unspoken

Quinn's fists were clenched tightly, her gaze locked onto Freya's sneering, deceitful smile until a chill ran down her spine.

Freya's words were drawn out, a taunting edge to her voice. "Sis, can you still even have kids?"

Quinn's face paled at the comment, eliciting a cruel chuckle from Freya who leaned in to whisper.

"Do you dream of your two broken little children at night? Don't they come to haunt you, asking for retribution?"

A sharp slap echoed through the silence of the living room, bringing an immediate stillness. Quinn's hand trembled at her side, burning hot.

A bright red mark bloomed on Freya's face, astonishment and unbridled fury simmering in her eyes. Through clenched teeth, she spat, "Did you hit me?" Quinn's fingers tightened; she stood abruptly, her gaze fixed on Freya.

The laughter had vanished from Freya's face, replaced by a dark glare so intense it seemed to shatter Quinn to pieces.

Nobody dared to cross Freya; Quinn was the last person she'd expect to raise a hand against her.

As Freya placed the baby into the crib and stood up, a cold sneer played at the corners of her mouth.

barren of children. Even if you got pregnant, you'd birth nothing but death-it'd die inside you sooner or later." "Considering you can't carry to

you're damned? Your children are waiting in hell, ready

she could finish,

stumbled backward, collapsing onto the

for trouble, dummy?" Kaitlyn's voice came from

slap

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lost control, kneeling on the ground with her upper body

hair fell over her face, darkening her vision

nails scratching deep into Quinn's skin, drawing

up and joined Kaitlyn, playing the victim. "Mom, this dummy has gotten

asked if Harold was cute, and she slapped me,

jab at Quinn. But the thought of Quinn striking back was beyond

servant beside her.

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