NovelEnglishIn the persistent glow of the lights, Alexander watched Quinn wince, his actions momentarily stilled by her
reaction. He gently grasped her wrist, rolling up the sleeve of her blouse to reveal an array of scrapes and a
bruise of concerning size. His fingers traced the edge of her collar, pulling it down to expose another bruise
marring her shoulder. He looked up, his gaze meeting hers. Quinn's eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting ever so
slightly. It took a beat for her to gather the strength to respond.
"Why didn't you treat this?" Alexander questioned, peeling back a bandage to reveal an untreated wound
beneath. Quinn's eyes fluttered open, a mask of resilience hiding the pain etched on her face as she signed, "It's
nothing. Not serious." She had hesitated to apply any medication, acutely aware of the potential impact on their
unborn child, who was in a delicate state.Alexander got off the bed and rummaged through their drawers and
cabinets. He returned moments later, his hands conspicuously empty.
"Where's our first-aid kit?" he inquired, a note of frustration creeping into his voice. It was always Quinn who kept
their hin order, a fact that struck him as ironic given his unfamiliarity with his own home.
Quinn merely shook her head in response. She had made the decision to forgo any medication, signing, "We
don't have a first-aid kit."A frown creased Alexander's forehead as he moved to guide her towards the door.
"Let's just go to the hospital then," he suggested.Quinn paused, rapidly dismissing his suggestion with a flurry of
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtfrantic gestures.
"No need to trouble yourself. I've taken care of it. It's really fine. It's already scabbed over," she signed, her
movements quick and precise. "I'm tired. | want to sleep," she added.Alexander scrutinized her for a moment, his
gaze probing. "You sure you don't want to go?"Quinn's head bobbed with rapid shakes, her gestures desperate in
their insistence. "Okay, we won't go," Alexander finally conceded, settling back into the bed.
This time, he refrained from any further actions, simply wrapping his arm around her waist as they drifted off to
sleep. The bedroom light remained on, its intrusive glare a testament to Alexander's aversion to darkness. Over
time, the light in their bedroom was seldom turned off.
They were married three years ago. Sharing a room, it was the first tAlexander had kissed her. Quinn had
looked at him with a naive expression, while Alexander had stared back for a long while, admitting it felt like he
was committing a crime.
Back then, Quinn had thought that was how love between a man and a woman was confirmed. So, she
obediently followed his lead. But she later realized that wasn't love. It was lust, a marital duty. She was told that
such intimacies could be just as sensual without love. Love and sex were never the sthing. When Quinn
woke again, it was already noon.
Her first instinct was to check her phone, but her friend Abigail still hadn't responded. Quinn's heart sank as her
messages seemed to have disappeared into a void. She understood that Abigail might blher for a good
reason. After all, Quinn was the cause of the whole thing.
Quinn thought, "That's right. How can someone likeever have friends?'She sat numbly on the sofa, the TV
blaring since the evening before. She cranked up the volume, but even that couldn't mask the chill emptiness of
the villa. Oliver had agreed to Alexander's terms to assist with customs affairs. However, the ordeal with Abigail
was far from controlled. In fact, it was escalating.
: a
The Vanderbilt family's stocks
plummeted daily, evaporating billions
a 8 q ' q
in just days. Their father's hair turned
grey in a matter of daySALISI Stdod
| €, .
athe doorway of the study with a
complex expression as she gazed at
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm' q
her father's wearied form. It took
nothing more than a flick of
' 5
Alexander's finger to cause her
actions to ripple disastrously through
the entire Vanderbilt family. The
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