Love Unspoken

In a desperate attempt to free herself, Quinn's fingers tightened around Freya's hands, pushing her away.

Freya's eyes, bloodshot and wild, stared back at her. Her voice, hoarse and threatening, echoed through the room, "Give me Alexander, or I choke you to death!"

Her teeth were clenched in a grimace of determination.As her vision began to blur, Quinn acted on pure instinct. Her hand shot out, fingers curling into a fistful of Freya's hair.

With a swift, hard yank, Freya let out a startled yelp and pushed Quinn away. Finally free, Quinn wasted no time in putting some distance between them.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Freya, clutching her head and trembling, shot Quinn a murderous glare. Quinn, now standing by the coffee table, pinched her fingers together.

Her hand brushed over a plate resting on the table's surface. As Freya began to approach again, Quinn's hand darted out, grabbing the fruit bowl from the table.

Just then, a voice rang out from the doorway, "Stop!" Both women turned their heads towards the door. Framed by the entrance stood Alexander, his tall figure cloaked in a trench coat, a black umbrella clutched in his hand. He pressed the handle, closing the umbrella, and stepped inside.

Freya, her eyes lighting up as if she'd seen a savior, rushed over to him, grabbing his arm, "Brother, something terrible's happened..." Alexander's frown deepened, his gaze upon her carrying a tinge of warning. Freya fell silent. Turning to Quinn, Alexander commanded, "Go back to your room."Still clutching the bowl, Quinn scanned the two before her. With a final, pursed-lip glance, she set down the bowl and ascended the stairs.

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Once she had left, Alexander withdrew his arm and settled onto the couch, lighting up a cigarette.

Freya moved to sit next to him, whispering, "Brother, Dad's been taken away.

"The fingers holding his cigarette tensed. "And?""They suspect that he kidnapped Valerie's children to force her into signing a contract, and then... to silence her," Freya's voice trembled.

After all, Freya was just a sheltered heiress, unaccustomed to such crises. Now, with a death and her father Wayne taken away, how could she not be frightened? Alexander glanced at her indifferently. "The suspicion makes sense. What's rattling you?"Freya brushed back her hair from her face.

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Gone was her previous composure; now, she looked every bit the guilty party."Bro... I never meant to kill her, but how did Valerie die? And her kids..."Freya had been plagued by a nightmare the previous night, haunted by an image of Valerie and her two children demanding justice from beyond the grave.

She was scared out of her wits, and today she's been walking around in a daze."Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

Alexander's lips curled into a smirk as he eyed her, "You're responsible for this."Freya's eyes bulged. She rushed to defend herself, "Bro, it was me, am I not...""Freya," Alexander cut her off with a small smile, "keep it to yourself. If you keep acting like this, do you want to broadcast to everyone that you kidnapped Valerie, that you're responsible for her death?"

Freya slumped, her face ashen, staring blankly at Alexander."What am I supposed to do now?""What can you do after all this? It's either you take the fall or our dad does.

Think it through carefully then come talk to me."Was there even anything to think about?Freya grabbed Alexander's arm firmly, her tone unwavering, "I can't confess, what about Harold? He's still so young. And Walter, I... I can't leave them.""You promised to help me, bro, please help me!"Alexander regarded her silently, noting the tear-filled plea in her eyes. Then he flashed a sudden smile, "Freya, looking at you now, seems like you're not cut out for staying stateside. Maybe it's time for a trip abroad to clear your head."