Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Quintessa couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and an indescribable sensation in her heart. In these cold, unpredictable times, having someone genuinely care about her well-being was rather nice.

At least it warmed her heart.

Soon after, Manny walked in, "Quinn, Director Frost called specifically to say you should rest up and not rush to the set. He's going to shoot scenes with other actors first. He insisted that you get some good rest."

"Since when is he so considerate?" Quintessa knew Director Frost to be anything but considerate about his cast's health; the man was a workaholic. NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

Manny scratched his head, "Mr. York made a call to him."

Quintessa recalled Tyrone storming out earlier and chuckled, wondering what sort of deal he had struck with Director Frost.

Manny poured Quintessa a glass of water, cautiously adding, "Quinn, Mr. York has been really nice to you lately."

Quintessa smiled, "Isn't that the truth."

"Rest up. I'll head to the set to pick up your stuff. I rushed here so quickly; I didn't get a chance to pack."

"Go ahead."

Once at the set, Manny gathered Quintessa's belongings and was about to take her costume to the props department.

The props room was usually empty at this time, but as he approached, he overheard Crystal and Leona talking inside. Their conversation made him stop and listen. Crystal lamented, "Did we go too far? She fainted."

Leona snorted, "How is that too far?

It's not our fault she's so frail. Besides, we were out in the sun just as long as she was. How come we're fine? I bet she's been spending all her energy with men in bed. Her strength's all used up. Don't worry; messing up takes on set happens to everyone. It was a group scene; even without our little 'help', they'd need a couple of takes. No one will suspect a thing."

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"But I feel guilty, and I still haven't sorted things out with my brother. Now, I've completely lost my chance to talk to Mr. York."

"Don't worry, your time will come. Honestly don't see what Mr. York sees in that kind of woman who sells her body to achieve fame. For me you're a thousand times better than she is."

"Don't say that. Let's not do this again, okay? Even if no one notices, we'll have that guilt."

"Fine, you're too kind-hearted. Quintessa isn't as nice as you. This was just a small punishment compared to what she's done. What we did is nothing."

Grinding his teeth, Manny glared at the door, tempted to burst in. But realizing he wasn't cut out for a confrontation, he turned and left.

Fuming, Manny thought, "Just wait. Quinn will tear you apart, you shameless harpies."

With anger boiling inside him, Manny returned to the hospital. Outside Quintessa's room, he saw Tyrone leaning against the wall, biting on an unlit cigarette, lost in thought. He was wearing Quintessa's basic T-shirt; his aura of elegance and aloofness made him look like a

portrait of solitude.

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Manny couldn't help but admire, "Mr. York really does look like a god when he's silent."

Cautiously, he asked, "Why aren't you going in?"

Tyrone scoffed, "What, to strangle her?"

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