NovelEnglishShe addressed the microphone with a strained smile, "Since he's standing here with me, | don't think | need to
spell out our relationship, right?"
He was always like this, averse to such events and reluctant to expose his personal life. As a result, he rarely
gave interviews. As for her relationship with Alexander, she pleaded with the press to cease their inquiries. "If we
were truly, as everyone suspects, 'a secret that can't be discovered,’ he wouldn't be standing here with me," she
stated, her words a clear message to the press and the audience.
Alexander's presence at the press event, regardless of their relationship's nature, was a testament to his high
regard for her. It was unshakeable.
His demeanor towards the reporters revealed his reluctance to be there. Yet, he had shown up. What did that
signify? It was a clear display of his affection for Getty.
The young couple stood before the screen, he was strikingly handsome, and she was effortlessly elegant. They
seemed destined for each other.
In the midst of the event, Walter had somehow found a seat next to Quinn. "How does it feel?" he queried.
Quinn cast a fleeting glance at him before bowing her head in silence. What feelings could she possibly harbor?
She felt nothing.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtWalter clicked his tongue, twirling a strand of Quinn's hair on her shoulder playfully. "Still reluctant to leave, huh?
You're far more disgraceful than | thought," he chided.
Quinn was momentarily taken aback. She bit her lip, choosing not to retaliate.
Walter moved his fingers to her chin, forcing her to face him. His gaze was intense as he proposed, "Quinn, be
with me. I'll take you away from here. How about that?" Quinn averted her gaze, but he forcefully turned her face
back towards him. "What are you afraid of? Scared I'll hit you?" he taunted, a laugh threatening to escape his
lips. Quinn's fingers tightened, wary of provoking him. A slap could cat any moment.
"Why haven't you realized it yet?" Walter demanded, his tone shifting as his smile faded. Abruptly, he seized
Quinn's hair, yanking her towards him. "Tell me, do you deserve to die?"
Pain shot through Quinn's scalp, tears welling up in her eyes. Observing her distress, Walter's smile returned.
"Don't be scared. I'm now in partnership with Alexander; I'm not going to hurt you."
With that, he released Quinn's hair. He rose swiftly, exiting the room without a backward glance. The door
slammed shut behind him with such force that Quinn shivered.
Quinn remained silent for a moment, recalling her bag left nearby. She quickly got out of bed, retrieved the bag
from a chair, and pulled out a notebook. As she was about to write, her gaze landed on the image on the TV.
Clenching the notebook, she grabbed the remote to switch off the TV.
She lay on the bed, jotting down everything she could remember. However, when it cto the scene in
Thunderbird Canyon where she saw Getty and Alexander, she hesitated, crossed out the words, and decided not
to write anything. What was the point in remembering things when she was making every effort to forget?
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She packed the notebook into her bag, changed into nearby clothes, and left the room. As she descended the
stairs, she saw Walter lounging on the couch, sipping tea. He was still dressed in that dark red suit; his slightly
curled short hair tucked behind his ears, locks framing his cheeks.
This attire rendered him the epitof an ancient-style handsman, as described by Freya. In a suit, he
exuded a completely different aura-hard-edged and regal. Yet, for Quinn, who had seen his true nature, no outfit
could conceal his darkness.
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