Love Unspoken

Every individual in the room was acutely conscious of the fact that a behemoth like Kennedy Enterprise wouldn't crumble in a single night; its resurgence was merely a matter of time.

Accruing more benefits in the present would inevitably translate to more profits in the future. Despite this, they found themselves in a precarious position, yearning to extract concessions from Alexander, a feat that seemed increasingly unlikely. Alexander's nonchalant demeanor towards Stellan was a clear indication of his indifference. He was under no illusions that he could easily find a multitude of other businesses, big or small, willing to partner with him. After all, didn't all the corporate giants start as small enterprises?

Except for the blue-blooded Kennedys, most companies sprouted from humble beginnings.

If a dog dared to bite the hand that fed it, replacing it was hardly a challenge; such was the harsh reality of the world.

Alexander seemed resolute in his decision to watch Stellan finish his drink, compelling everyone to endure the wait alongside him.

When Ronan finally returned, she succumbed to the effects of her excessive drinking, collapsing onto the couch, unresponsive to Stellan's desperate attempts to rouse her.

In a fit of frustration, Stellan seized the two remaining bottles on the table, draining them in one go before smashing them onto the table. Before he could utter another word, he spun around and retched into the trash can, prompting everyone around him to recoil in disgust.

Once Stellan had finished heaving, he turned to Alexander with a groggy gaze and slurred, "Alexander, I finished the drink, as you requested. Now it's your turn to uphold your end of the bargain."

Alexander merely smirked in response, rising from his seat to dust off his jacket and retrieve his coat.

"As dawn breaks, I think it's time we called it a night. I thoroughly enjoyed myself," Alexander announced, before sauntering off.

Quinn, who had been dozing off, was jolted awake by Alexander's departure and hurriedly trailed after him.

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Once he had left, the group turned to Galen, seeking an explanation.

"What's the play here, Alexander? We didn't quite catch it," one of them queried.

"I'm just as clueless," another chimed in. "We were supposed to negotiate, but we've spent the entire night here without reaching any agreement."

Adjusting his glasses, Galen rose to his feet and declared, "That's just Alexander's way. If he takes a disliking to your attitude, it's hardly surprising that no deal was struck." This left them even more bewildered.

Everyone concurred that they had been more than accommodating, with the exception of Stellan, whose fixation on Alexander's assistant was tantamount to a direct affront to Alexander. He behaved like an entitled junior partner, expecting the assistant to be handed over to him unconditionally-anyone would be irked by such audacity.

Though not pivotal, assistants certainly held some significance. Among the unspoken rules of their social circle, one was particularly prominent: Never demand an assistant outright. Doing so was considered a grave insult.

With this realization, the crowd shot Stellan a collective glare, their expressions laced with resentment. His actions had complicated matters for everyone.

Alexander quickened his pace, with Quinn hot on his trail. He paid her no heed as he climbed into his car.

Quinn hesitated, uncertain whether to join him or stay put. His anger was palpable, and she didn't dare intrude without an explicit invitation. She lingered by the car door, nervously biting her lip and fiddling with her sleeve, the very picture of contrition.

After a moment, the car window rolled down.

"Do I have to invite you in?" he inquired.