Love Unspoken

"Are you on your way to a meeting?" Getty inquired. With a noncommittal grunt, Alexander confirmed her assumption. His meeting was scheduled two floors below. The elevator chimed its arrival, the metallic doors sliding open with a whisper. Without uttering another word, he stepped out and disappeared from sight.As soon as Alexander was out of sight, Getty's facade of cordiality disintegrated.

Her face hardened into a stony expression, a silence enveloping her until they reached the sub-basement level, a place devoid of surveillance cameras. Only then did Getty risk a sidelong glance at Quinn.

Quinn, burdened by a box and unable to see the path ahead, was oblivious to Getty's icy smirk. Suddenly, she felt a foot deliberately trip her. She stumbled, the box slipping from her grasp and scattering its contents across the cold concrete floor. With a jarring thud, she landed awkwardly, a sharp pain radiating from her wrists and knees.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

"Oh, my, you're such a klutz," Getty exclaimed, feigning surprise as she towered over the fallen Quinn. "You've broken my stuff."Quinn bit her lip, her face smeared with dust from the floor. It took several deep, calming breaths for her to regain her composure.

She picked herself up, dusted off her clothes, and shot Getty a defiant look.Getty merely raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with provocation. "What are you looking at me for? Aren't you going to pick up my things?"

Quinn clenched her fists, her gaze fixed on Getty. The smug look on Getty's face was a chilling reminder of their first encounter. The scene was eerily similar. Back then, Getty had knelt down to help Quinn pick up her things, extending an offer of friendship. How naive Quinn had been, mistaking Getty's ulterior motives for genuine friendship.

Seeing Quinn's inaction, Getty's smile faded. "What, are you deaf? I told you to pick up my things." Choosing to ignore Getty's command, Quinn turned to leave. Getty, however, was not about to let her off so easily. She grabbed Quinn's arm with a vice-like grip. "I didn't say you could leave!"

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Quinn tried to wriggle free, but Getty's grip was unyielding. She turned her head, glaring at Getty. Ever since Abigail had confronted Getty, Quinn's life had been a whirlwind of chaos, all thanks to Getty. She had lost her job, her friends, and now Juliet was gone.As these thoughts flooded Quinn's mind, a wave of revulsion for Getty surged through her. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, she pushed Getty away.

Caught off-guard, Getty, teetering on her towering stilettos, stumbled and fell hard. As she went down, Getty's nails dug into Quinn, dragging her down as well. They both lay sprawled on the ground. This time, without the box to cushion her fall, Quinn felt the full force of the impact.

Her vision blurred, her heart pounded in her chest, and the sharp pain in her abdomen was nearly unbearable. Getty's ankle injury hadn't fully healed. When she fell, she couldn't get back up."You...damn you, dummy!" Getty cursed, clutching her ankle, tears streaming down her face. "You're done for!"

Through her own pain, Quinn glanced at Getty, who was also unable to stand, cold sweat beading on her forehead.

Getty pulled out her cell phone and dialed Alexander, her complaints flowing amidst sobs."That dummy, she pushed me! My ankle wasn't even healed, and now it's definitely broken."

Quinn was unable to respond. She could only listen as Getty twisted the truth.In less than five minutes, Alexander arrived.

Surveying the mess on the ground, he went straight to Getty and squatted down beside her, offering his assistance. "What happened?" he asked.