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Chapter_66
Quinn’s heart pounded in her chest as she was dragged further into the Kennedy residence. The tension that had coiled in her stomach since Walter’s arrival now manifested in every step she took, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something ominous was unfolding.
As they entered, Freya was there, waiting with the kind of impatience that Quinn had come to dread. Her fingers clutched tightly to Walter’s arm, a subtle yet possessive gesture. “What took you so long?” Freya’s voice was sharp, tinged with annoyance.
Walter, ever the picture of composure, shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing more than some traffic.” But his eyes flicked over to Quinn, the faintest glint of calculation in his gaze. Quinn couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in their quiet, calculated world.
Freya’s gaze, now focused on Quinn, flickered with disdain. Quinn was well aware of the deep animosity Freya felt for her. ‘That infuriating woman always pretends to be so innocent, yet she has a knack for ensnaring men with those coy looks,’ Freya thought bitterly. The air seemed to thicken with unspoken words, but Freya’s smile remained tight and unfriendly.
“Come in, mom’s waiting inside,” Freya announced, leading Walter further into the house with Quinn reluctantly trailing behind. Her mind raced as she stepped over the threshold into the living room, her senses immediately assaulted by the stillness of the space, the rain tapping lightly against the windows, painting the world outside in muted tones.
There, in the corner of the room, was Kaitlyn, cradling her grandson. The baby, small and cherubic, radiated innocence as he cooed in his grandmother’s arms. For a moment, Quinn’s heart ached. This was her first time seeing the baby so close, his rounded face glowing with the promise of life and purity. He looked up at her, a gummy smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
A soft wave of longing washed over Quinn. She placed a hand instinctively over her own abdomen, wondering if her child would be as sweet as this one. Would she hold her baby in her arms one day, her heart swelling with love? The thought filled her with warmth, but it was fleeting.
The baby stretched his tiny hands toward her, and without thinking, Quinn reached out, mesmerized by his small fingers. Before she could make contact, however, Freya intervened with a force that startled Quinn. She shoved Quinn aside, her voice dripping with feigned concern. “Quinn, you haven’t washed your hands, right? Don’t go spreading germs to Peanut,” Freya admonished, her tone too sharp, too pointed.
The push sent Quinn stumbling back, and she caught herself only by clutching the arm of the nearby couch. She winced, both from the physical shock and the emotional sting of the interaction. Kaitlyn handed the baby to Freya, then stood, her eyes narrowing as they scanned Quinn’s form. The warmth from earlier had evaporated, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze.
Kaitlyn’s eyes lingered on Quinn’s midsection for a long moment, her stare as piercing as a knife. Then, as if dismissing her thoughts, Kaitlyn gave a sharp command. “Evelyn Reed!” she called out. A maid appeared immediately, her expression respectful but distant, flanked by two other servants.
“Quinn, Mrs. Kennedy would like to have you checked up. Please come with us,” Evelyn said, her words polite but firm.
Quinn’s stomach dropped, and her feet faltered. A wave of fear washed over her as she took in Kaitlyn’s icy expression. Words failed to come out of her mouth. Her mind raced, and her body instinctively tried to shrink back, but the servants were already moving toward her, grabbing her arms and pulling her toward the door.
“Let go!” Quinn struggled, her hands flailing, but Kaitlyn’s dismissive gaze never wavered. “Evelyn Reed, take her away,” she instructed coolly.
Quinn’s body went rigid as the servants began dragging her out. She clung to the doorframe for dear life, her fingers desperately scraping against the wood, but it was futile. They pried her hands away, her body swept up in their forceful grip.
Inside, Kaitlyn resumed her role as grandmother, cradling her precious grandson with an unfeeling smile. Freya’s lips curled into a cruel, satisfied smirk. Walter’s face remained impassive, his eyes betraying no emotion as Quinn was pulled away, a stranger in their world of quiet manipulation and cold control.
Quinn’s mind was spinning, her heart heavy with the realization that she was caught in a web she couldn’t escape. She had hoped for compassion, but all she found was a deep, chilling indifference. The baby in Kaitlyn’s arms began to wail, the sharp cries cutting through the tension, filling the vast, empty spaces of the villa.
The wailing echoed in Quinn’s ears as she was dragged down the hallway, her thoughts spinning into despair. Is this what it feels like to lose everything? she thought, her heart aching as she recalled the cries. For a brief moment, she thought she heard the anguished wail of her own child, her unborn baby—just as trapped as she was.
