Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter_19
Alexander’s message was short, just two words.
Quinn’s heart sank when she saw the text. She glanced at Abigail, who was still smiling with excitement, and quietly slipped her phone back into her pocket.
Abigail, her arm still around Quinn’s shoulders, beamed. “See? You can make money on your own. You’re more than capable of raising your baby, and you don’t need that jerk at all!”
Quinn managed a weak smile and signed, “Abigail, I should go back.”
Abigail looked at her with concern. “Why? Let’s have dinner together tonight and celebrate.”
Quinn gently touched her lower abdomen and waved her hand. “I need to go back and take my meds.”
Abigail’s expression softened in realization. “Right, I almost forgot. Your baby is still fragile. No worries, I’ll take you back. We can always celebrate once the contract is signed.”
Smiling, Quinn nodded. The two of them left the café, and Quinn hopped onto Abigail’s motorcycle.
Because Quinn was pregnant, Abigail drove much more cautiously than usual. She didn’t speed or run red lights, even taking the time to prepare a raincoat for Quinn, knowing how important it was to keep her comfortable.
When they arrived at the villa, Abigail helped Quinn off the motorcycle and removed the helmet and raincoat, carelessly crumpling up the raincoat afterward. “Go inside, and I’ll call you once Mr. Cole has the contract ready.”
Quinn nodded and turned to head inside.
The villa door was already open, which meant Alexander was home.
Quinn’s nerves tightened, and she clutched the hem of her clothes as she stepped inside, walking slowly.
Sure enough, Alexander was seated on the living room sofa, speaking on the phone. His legs were crossed, and he held the phone in one hand, the other resting on the back of the sofa. His shirt collar was slightly open, revealing the sharp outline of his collarbones.
His expression was focused and serious. When he noticed Quinn enter, he spoke into the phone. “Someone’s clearly trying to stir up trouble, and it’s not just one person. Look into the reasons behind the restrictions in those countries.” Then he ended the call and turned his gaze toward her.
His eyes swept over her, starting from her hair all the way down to her shoes, before settling on her face. “Where were you?”
Quinn stayed silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she stood before him, feeling like a student who had been caught making a mistake.
She signed, “I went shopping.”
Alexander remained calm, his face unreadable. “Dressed like this? What did I tell you?”
She lowered her head, her fingers nervously fiddling. Glancing up at him briefly, she looked away again.
She gestured, “I couldn’t go out dressed like this.”
He reached out, pulling her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Then why did you disobey me? What if you ran into trouble?”
As he spoke, his hands moved to her thigh. Quinn wore a long dress paired with a loose sweater—a conservative outfit by most standards.
But as he touched her thigh, his fingers slid beneath her dress, lifting it slightly and exposing her pale, smooth skin.
She sat quietly on his lap, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, but she said nothing in response to him.
Suddenly, Alexander’s voice broke through the silence. “Are you short of money?”
Quinn froze, her body stiffening in response.
He tilted his head, locking eyes with her. They were so close that she could see her reflection in his pupils, the intensity of his gaze unsettling. His scrutiny felt like an invisible weight pressing down on her.
Her heart pounded as she gripped the fabric of his shirt, trying to calm her racing thoughts.
Alexander continued, his voice even, but with a hint of something more dangerous beneath the surface. “Tell me, what do you need the money for?”
His eyes were sharp, and though his tone was steady, Quinn could sense the rising tension. Her face paled, and she struggled to form an answer.
‘He knows,’ she thought, her mind racing. He must already suspect something.
‘I don’t want to stay cooped up at home all day; I want to be able to work, but he doesn’t care about the money I made at Abigail’s café. But now, I’ve gone further… I’ve signed a contract for $100,000, and it’s not just some private deal anymore. I’ll have to become a public figure, and I’ve already asked for a divorce. If he hasn’t figured it out yet, I’d be surprised.’
Alexander smiled, but it was cold, and it didn’t reach his eyes. His smile sent a chill down Quinn’s spine.
His hand slid under her dress once more, gripping her thigh with a possessive force. The warmth of his touch felt almost unbearable, as though it was meant to burn through her.
“Tell me,” he repeated, his voice low and commanding.
