Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny (Quintessa and Tyrone) novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

Rachel nodded, “Well, then rest up. I’ll swing by tomorrow to check on you.” 

Once she stepped out the door, her eyes instantly filled with venomous hate, her hands clenched so tightly her nails dug into her flesh.- 

“Quintessa, I won’t let you prance around freely anymore.” 

Tyrone’s assistant, James, approached, and Rachel quickly masked her spite with a smile, “James.” 

But James brushed past her, knocking on a door and disappearing inside. Rachel’s face. darkened. 

James asked in a hushed tone, “Mr. York, about that Ms. Quintessa Young situation, do we continue to intervene?” 

Tyrone scoffed, “Intervene? Did she beg you for it?” 

“No, she did not.” 

“If she’s so damn proud, why should I lift a finger? Otherwise, she might think I’m desperate.” 

James bowed his head lower; looked like Mr. York wanted Ms. Young to come to plead. He wondered if someone like Ms. Young would ever stoop to ask for help. 

Tyrone’s gaze swept over the disheveled bed, the stark white sheets marred by a stain of red, which stung his eyes. 

When Quintessa got nabbed, everyone who knew her – relatives, friends, classmates, neighbors – breathed a sigh of relief.. 

Because everyone thought Quintessa was rotten to the core; she deserved to be punished. With her fox–like beauty and her penchant for flashy outfits, she just didn’t seem 

trustworthy. 

Her mother was a home–wrecker, and so was she, outdoing even her mother in cunning. She snatched her sister’s boyfriend, seduced her aunt’s fiancé, and stole her best friend’s man. She was a homewrecker through and through. So now that she was locked up. everyone spat in disgust and then said with satisfaction, “She had it coming!” 

People always suspected that a day like this would come for Quintessa, the sly temptress. At last, it seemed like justice had been served, and there was much rejoicing. 

On the fourth day of her detention, Quintessa’s father – Sean finally showed up. 

Although they were blood–related, at that moment, they seemed like mortal enemies. Sean hissed, “Quintessa, what the hell do you want?” 

She spread her hands, “What do I want? Look at me now. What more could I possibly want?” 

Dressed in the detention center’s jumpsuit, her hair tied back with a simple rubber band, her face bare of makeup, her lips chapped. 

Yet even so, she looked still strikingly alluring. Some women just had that indescribable charm, no matter what they wore, flashy attire or something in tatters.