Love Unspoken

"Such nonsense! When have I ever commanded you to commit murder? You need to clarify the situation, or you can bid farewell to your payment!"

The accusation sparked a flame of indignation within him."You were the one who sent the text, instructing the hit. What else could have transpired? Do you take me for a fool, unable to comprehend the gravity of murder in contrast to abduction?"

He retorted, his voice laced with bitterness. In all honesty, he would have been in a far better position had he refrained from killing.

With twenty million in his possession, even if apprehended, there would be a potential escape route. But with a life taken, the act of spending the money was far from a comforting experience.

A shiver of dread slithered down Freya's spine at his words. Could it be that her instructions had been misinterpreted, leading to this fatal misunderstanding? She had personally sought out these individuals, making direct contact; no one else was privy to their dealings.

She could fathom no other explanation."Enough. Remain hidden and refrain from contacting me unless absolutely necessary!" With that, Freya ended the call.

Initially, she had consented to a payment of twenty million dollars, divided into two installments of ten million each, with the final payment yet to be made.

a prisoner of her own anxiety, particularly after Walter's

that happened, their entire operation would crumble.After ending the call, Freya collected

the person. Find a way to disclose their location to Xavier." With that, Walter ended the call, turning

gently caressed the baby's cheek, eliciting a giggle and a tiny hand

she could recollect, believing that revisiting these

her initiation into the Kennedys as a child. Before she knew it, she had

across the pages, the magnitude of her shared history with Alexander sinking in. The notebook was

adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience-all for free. The next chapter is eagerly

at all, given the clarity with which she could recall events

remembered a pink, dog-shaped lollipop that Alexander had gifted her. It was a sunny afternoon; the boy was clad in a white shirt, a backpack slung over his shoulder, one hand tucked into his pocket. His silhouette was outlined by the