In the face of Alexander's relentless interrogation, Quinn found herself retreating, step by painstaking step, until
her shoulders sagged with the weight of her exhaustion.
She cast a glance at Alexander, her expression a complex tapestry of emotions.
His face, however, remained as inscrutable as ever, giving her no clue as to whether she could place her trust in
him.
Yet, in the absence of any concrete evidence, she realized she should never have doubted him to begin with.
With a remorseful gesture, she apologized. "I'm sorry, truly sorry."
"Your apology means nothing to me," chis curt reply.
Silence hung heavy between them for a moment before Quinn gestured again.
"Then what do you want?" she asked, her hand raised in a plea for understanding.
Alexander remained silent, his gaze locked onto Quinn with an intensity that seemed to bore into her very soul.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence.
"You seem to really like dogs?"
Quinn froze, unsure of the implications of his question. What if her affirmative response resulted in the sudden
disappearance of dogs from her vicinity?
Before she could decipher his intentions, Alexander abruptly seized her wrist, pulling her along with him towards
the exit.
Quinn staggered in his wake, struggling to keep pace with his brisk strides and barely managing to keep herself
from tripping.
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Once they were outside, he released her.
"Keep up," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
Quinn, still regaining her balance, hesitated. She watched his retreating figure, his back turned to her as if to
shield their association from prying eyes. But the truth was, there was no association to hide. With a sigh, she
lowered her gaze and, after a moment's pause, followed him.
Upon reaching the elevator, she found Alexander already inside, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his
expression unreadable.
Quinn took her place in a corner, her gaze fixed on the floor.
When the elevator doors slid open to reveal the underground parking lot, Alexander exited without a word. Quinn
trailed behind him, stopping only when they reached his car.
As he slid into the driver's seat, she waited outside, the chill of the parking lot seeping into her bones.
After what seemed like an eternity, Alexander emerged from the car, his icy gaze fixed on Quinn.
"Quinn, are you stupid?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation.
Taken aback, Quinn quickly clambered into the car, her fingers fumbling with the seatbelt. The car was warm, but
the moment Alexander settled into his seat, the temperature seemed to plummet.
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Quinn, seated closest to him, shivered involuntarily.Her gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers anxiously twisting
in her lap.
She noticed the bruise on her nails
and the wound on her wrist, her mind
a whirl of auestions 85 bruise Had
Spreng Gel ails a sickly
purple, reminiscent of poison seeping
into her system. She stared at her
injured hand, unable to determine the
cause of the injury. The content is on
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Alexander's gaze flickered in her
direction, his icy demeanor seffening
ever So{ightly at thé om of her
bFuiSkd nails. He quickly averted his
gaze, focusing on the road ahead.
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The rest of the journey was marked by a silence that was as heavy as it was uncomfortable.
When Quinn finally dared to look up,
she found the car winding its way up
a mountain. Her g ftijted lroteen
i going hin as and the
serpentine road, before settling on
Alexander. The indifference etched
on his profile sent a shiver of
apprehension down her spine. The
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Was he planning to silence her permanently? The secluded mountainous terrain seemed an ideal location for
such a grim task.
Fear gnawed at Quinn's insides, her fingers twisting together in a silent prayer for her safety. &