Chapter 77
As the conversation unfolded, Alexander and Kyle came into Quinn's view.
Alexander was a picture of sartorial elegance, his brown coat reaching down to his knees, highlighting his long, straight legs.
He cast a fleeting glance at Quinn before his gaze shifted to Abigail, who stood by her side.Quinn averted her eyes, a pang of guilt washing over her.
Her ponytail had unraveled, and stray strands of hair were strewn across her pallid cheeks, resembling marbled etchings on flawless alabaster, disheveled and desolate.Abigail, her brows knitted together, remained silent. Her past encounters had taught her to avoid unnecessary conflicts, especially when
Alexander hadn't provoked her.
In the midst of the palpable tension, Oliver made his way over hastily.Upon sighting Alexander and Quinn, his expression subtly changed.
He then approached Abigail and whispered, "Abigail, haven't you stirred up enough trouble? Let's go home!"Too drained to protest, Abigail didn't resist. As Oliver guided her away, she cast a worried glance at Quinn. Only after their departure did Alexander break his silence, "Planning on staying here overnight?"Caught off guard, Quinn looked up at his inscrutable expression and, after a moment's hesitation, rose to her feet nervously.
Alexander turned to leave, the draft from his coat wafting a hint of an unfamiliar scent that lingered around Quinn.She trailed behind him in silence, and as Kyle stood by the car door, poised to open it, Alexander instructed, "You go on ahead." Kyle nodded, closed the car door, and stepped aside to clear the path.Seated in the car, Quinn remained silent. Although no words were exchanged, the atmosphere inside the car was icy. She fiddled with her fingers, anxiety gnawing at her throughout the journey. Upon their arrival at the manor, Alexander removed his overcoat.
Juliet, hobbling out from the kitchen, greeted them with a mixture of delight and apprehension.Juliet was slightly anxious. She wiped her hands on her apron before accepting Alexander's coat, "I was just wondering when you'd be back so I could start preparing dinner."
Alexander studied her face briefly, his gaze then dropping to her leg, "You're the housekeeper Quinn hired?"His blunt observation left Juliet frozen in place, the elderly woman standing awkwardly as she glanced at Quinn. Forcing a strained smile, Juliet stammered, "Ah. Yes, that's right. Don't worry. I won't let it interfere with my work."Quinn bit her lip, her head drooping in embarrassment. She discreetly tugged at Alexander, silently reminding him not to be overly harsh.Alexander disregarded Quinn. His words to Juliet were curt and dismissive, "You can't even walk straight. How can you work? This is not a charity house. You've come to the wrong place."
After uttering those harsh words, Alexander didn't spare another glance at Juliet's ashen face as he ascended the staircase, breezing past the elderly woman.Quinn's hand went limp, a whirlwind of guilt and helplessness engulfing her as she stood rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on Juliet.
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Juliet took a moment to compose herself. There weren't many things in life she hadn't come to terms with. Wiping away a tear, she managed a strained smile at Quinn. "Guess I won't be making dinner tonight."A pang of pain seized Quinn's heart.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only
She clasped Juliet's arm, shaking her head vehemently.She gestured, "Wait for me."Juliet opened her mouth, then hesitated, "Never mind. I've grown accustomed to that little shack of mine. It's okay, I'll head back."Tears welled up in Quinn's eyes, her pleading gaze begging as she gestured once more, "Wait for me."'Am I really so useless that I'm unable to keep anyone who matters to me by my side? Surely, there must come a time when fate would take pity on me and align with me. If only just once.' she wondered.
Quinn turned and ascended the stairs, halting in front of the study. The door was slightly ajar, and it creaked open at her gentle knock.
Inside, Alexander was engaged in a phone call, leaning against the window in a relaxed posture.
The backdrop of a brewing storm outside and the dim light in the room cast an austere chill over his features.