Quinn''s fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his sleeve, her silence stretching out into a palpable tension. Her gaze, locked onto his, was filled with uncertainty, her emotions a tumultuous sea she couldn''t navigate. Suddenly, Alexander rose from his seated position, leaving Quinn alone on the couch. He pivoted, ready to make his exit.
In a swift, desperate motion, Quinn reached out, her hand once again finding purchase on his sleeve. Alexander paused, his gaze softening momentarily as he looked back at her. The plea in her eyes was impossible to ignore. But the moment was fleeting. The shrill ring of his phone cut through the silence, demanding his attention. He pulled the device from his pocket, answering the call under Quinn''s watchful eyes. Getty''s voice echoed from the speaker, "Alexander, it''s been days. Where are you?"
"At home," he replied.
Getty''s irritation was palpable at his response, a reaction she had every time he uttered those two words. Yet, she maintained herposure, "I''m back in Amber Bay. Come see me."
Alexander didn''t respond. Instead, he cast a sidelong nce at Quinn, who was still clutching his sleeve. But as she met his indifferent gaze, her grip loosened, her hand falling away from him.
It was only then that Alexander responded to Getty, "Where are you?"Property ? of N?velDrama.Org.
"I justnded. Could you pick me up at the airport?"
"Sure."
With that, he ended the call. Without sparing another nce at Quinn, he walked out, leaving her alone once again.
Quinn remained on the couch, her eyes following his retreating figure. She bit her lip, her head bowing in silent resignation as the door closed behind him.
Alexander drove directly to the airport, the distance causing him to arriveter than expected. Getty had been waiting in the parking lot, her patience wearing thin. But her irritation evaporated as a Bentley pulled up smoothly in front of her. The window rolled down, revealing Alexander''s tall, upright figure. Getty''s face lit up at the sight of him. She wasted no time in opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat.
An agent, who had apanied Getty, conscientiously ced her luggage in the trunk before taking his ce in the back seat. Getty threw her arms around Alexander as soon as she was settled, resting her head on his shoulder, "Alexander, I''ve missed you so much. Didn''t you miss me?"
"Put on your seatbelt," he responded, his tone as cold as ever. Getty pouted, butplied, buckling her seatbelt.
The agent in the backseat stole nces at Alexander. The rumors about Getty''s benefactor being a tall, rich, and handsome man were indeed true. One look at the sharp eyes reflected in the rearview mirror was enough to tell the agent that Alexander was not a man to be trifled with.
Gettyunched into a tirade ofints about her exhausting filming schedule, the long hours spent in makeup, and her waning interest in acting. She even whimsically expressed a desire to be a singer. Alexander remained silent, allowing her to chatter on.
Eventually, Getty sensed his unusual quietness. She stopped her rambling and turned to him, "Alexander, why are you so quiet? Is something bothering you today?" "You finally noticed," Alexander responded, his tone ambiguous. Yet, Getty detected a hint of jest in his voice.
Suddenly, realization dawned on Getty, "Oh right, I came across some news a few days ago. Did something happen with The Kennedys?"
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"And you? Were you affected?"
Keeping his eyes on the road, Alexander responded with an air of indifference, "Does resigning count?"
"Resign, you resigned?" Getty was taken aback, her understanding of such matters limited. In her mind, the president of apany was invincible. Who could he possibly resign to? "What do you mean? You''re no longer president of The Kennedys?"
"That''s what I mean."
"Ah..." Getty''s expression shifted. She nced at the rearview mirror, subtly checking the agent''s reaction. She had been bragging about Alexander just days before. Now, with Alexander''s revtion that he was no longer the president, had she not thoroughly embarrassed herself?