Love Unspoken

These recent days had brought Kyle Astor a newfound understanding of Alexander's unflappable demeanor.

In the midst of turmoil, allowing anxiety to take hold served no purpose.

If he fully immersed himself in the search for Quinn, the matters at hand would surely be neglected.

And even upon locating her, what next? Would he be coerced into relinquishing company shares in the face of Walter's threats? Or would he be compelled to engage in a high-stakes confrontation, a last-resort strategy that promised mutual destruction?

In that scenario, Alexander wouldn't stand to gain anything.

The more Kyle Astor considered it, the chillier he felt, yet he admired Alexander's composure, his clear-sighted assessment of risks and rewards.

Men like Alexander were meant for greatness, unfettered by the snares of emotion. The art of making choices was all about balance.Night fell upon them.

Quinn was wrapped in a men's black down coat, likely belonging to Walter, its length reaching down to her ankles. She huddled close to the fire pit indoors, while

the foot of the bed, just long enough to allow her to move around within the house. It was eerily quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and the sound of Walter flipping through the pages

read by the fire, its warm orange glow softening the

she silently shifted to kneel on the floor. Walter glanced

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there, beneath his feet, she indeed

neck stiffened; she held her body rigid, daring not to move. As Walter petted her hair and continued to read, Quinn nearly convinced herself she was nothing but a hound. But

had already learned that from experience. Since escape was

abruptly commanded.Quinn hurried to her feet, dragging the chain

eyes was all it took for her to

fatigue dictating her position. Though there was a bed and stools in the room, Walter wouldn't allow