Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Leila sensed something amiss when Stella dismissed the need for recording. She knew she had to keep a detailed record of the entire procedure to prove herself.
But Gregory produced a camera and a contract before Leila could gesture her concerns. “Since you’re prepared to pay all at once, we’ll gladly proceed. Please read the contract thoroughly before you sign and pay. Meanwhile, the whole transaction will be recorded in case anything arises. This will ensure that the items you’ve brought are documented for verification post-repair.”
Stella’s expression darkened, yet she complied. After a brief moment, she turned and departed, while Leila meticulously gathered the bracelet fragments and returned to her workspace.
“Are you planning to take the bracelet home to repair it?” Gregory inquired.
Leila shook her head, explaining that she didn’t have the necessary tools at home and that Landon would likely get upset upon seeing her work on the fragments.
“Alright,” Gregory said. “Once you’re done for the day, lock the bracelet in your cabinet and change the password yourself.”
It was evident that Stella hearing about Leila’s presence at the studio was no coincidence. Someone inside the studio had likely tipped her off, and they might attempt to sabotage Leila’s work to frame her.
Leila nodded in agreement.
Instead of diving into the repair, Leila carefully examined the fragments, snapped some photos to help ascertain their original form, and searched online for details about the bracelet. Despite its century-old origins, the brand still existed today, making it feasible to find comparable designs.
However, the designs Leila found didn’t quite match what she had in front of her.
Unfazed, Leila decided to call it a day and left for home as dinner time approached. She had assumed she could reach home before Landon returned, but upon entering, she found Landon already seated on the sofa. Not only had he come back home today, but he had arrived earlier than usual.
Leila, taken aback, instinctively flashed him a smile.
“Did you visit Hayden’s studio today? I thought we agreed you wouldn’t work.” Landon stood up, his expression darkening.
Leila quickly explained that her visit to the studio was for learning and that she wouldn’t be there every day-it hardly counted as work.
“Don’t go there again,” Landon ordered, his tone firm.
Frowning, Leila stared at him, feeling a sudden surge of anger. For the first time in all these years, she felt Landon was out of line.
Previously, whenever they had a disagreement, Leila assumed she was at fault, not Landon. She always held him in high regard and thought she didn’t deserve someone like him. But this time, she felt he was the one in the wrong.
For the first time, Leila didn’t obey Landon’s command but instead questioned him through sign language. She furrowed her brows, asking why he wanted her to stay home when he rarely returned, and why he wished to isolate her in this vast villa.
Landon’s expression grew even darker. “Leila.”
Instead of backing down, Leila locked eyes with Landon, silently pressing him to answer what he truly took her for.
Landon didn’t respond to her question. Instead, he abruptly stepped closer, grasped her chin, and kissed her.
Landon’s distinct aroma filled Leila’s senses, making her legs tremble as he pressed her more firmly against him. His broad hand ripped through Leila’s shirt, slipping beneath her bra.
Leila was upset. What was Landon thinking? She had defied him by visiting the studio after he had explicitly told her not to. She had questioned his intentions and his view of her, and now he was trying to get intimate as if that would solve everything.
Feeling mistreated, Leila tried to push Landon away with all her might, but it was no use. His hands quickly restrained hers above her head, his voice hauntingly close to her ear. “Be a good girl and do as I say,” he commanded.
Defiance flared in Leila. Why should she? As Landon leaned in for another kiss, she bit down fiercely.
The taste of blood mingled between their mouths, and Landon groaned, immediately letting her go.
Leila stepped back quickly, clutching her torn clothes, and eyed Landon like a cornered animal.
“You bit me?” Landon looked at her in disbelief.
Leila stood her ground, making it clear she refused to comply with his demands. Through sign language, she asked what he really thought of her.
Landon’s expression darkened, his gaze inscrutable, like an abyss she couldn’t fathom.
Needing clarity, Leila signed, asking if he treated Sarah the same way, wondering if he would ever treat Sarah like this.
Landon’s face hardened, a storm brewing within his eyes.
Expecting the worst, Leila shut her eyes, bracing for a blow.
Yet, to her astonishment, Landon simply grabbed his jacket and left, his steps quick and resolute.
The door slammed behind him with a thunderous crash.
Leila flinched, her nerves still on edge. When she dared to look out the window, she saw the taillights of Landon’s black Bentley vanishing into the distance. His lips were broken-what would he tell Sarah if she questioned him?
For the first time, Leila felt detached from the thought of him with Sarah. It seemed irrelevant now. Her mind was focused on one thing: excelling in her restoration work.
The next morning, Leila arrived early at Hayden’s studio, fueled by the reflections of the previous night and a new sense of resolve. She exchanged brief greetings with her colleagues before settling into her workspace.
Instead of diving straight into the repair of Stella’s bracelet, Leila examined the remaining fragments. A few pieces of metal puzzled her, leaving her unsure whether they were part of the bracelet or added to mislead her. If they were integral to the bracelet, their exact placement eluded her. If not, they were likely Stella’s ploy to trip her up.
Leila spent the entire morning analyzing the fragments, deep in thought, until Gregory interrupted her focus with the sound of a knock.
“It’s time for lunch,” Gregory announced, holding a bag of takeout. He didn’t place it on her cluttered table. “Looks like you forgot to eat. Come with me.”
Leila nodded and followed Gregory to a nearby sofa. She motioned toward the bag, asking how much the meal cost, prepared to transfer him the money.
“It’s just a few dollars,” Gregory said, waving dismissively. “Consider it a peace offering for being harsh yesterday. Don’t worry about it.”
Leila smiled gratefully and joked through gestures that he had given her the chance to prove herself.
Their conversation was interrupted by sudden footsteps at the door.
Leila looked up, and her smile froze. There stood Landon.
Dressed in a sleek, dark suit, he radiated authority as his cold gaze locked on Leila.
Leila rose to her feet, her eyes flickering with uncertainty.
“The reception area is on the ground floor,” Gregory said, stepping forward with a polite yet firm tone.
Gregory was aware of Leila’s situation at home and immediately recognized Landon. Still, he pretended ignorance, his voice carrying a hint of hostility. He blamed Landon for keeping someone as capable as Leila confined to their home, dismissing her talents.
Landon ignored him, his eyes never leaving Leila as he approached.
Feeling panic surge, Leila moved to intercept him, motioning for him to step outside.
Landon paused, shot Gregory a piercing look, and followed her into the corridor.
By the window, Landon turned to Leila. “Do you think my presence embarrasses you?”
Leila shook her head. That wasn’t it at all.
“Do you really need to work here?” Landon’s tone softened slightly.
Leila signed, explaining that restoring artifacts at the studio brought her joy-something she hadn’t felt since marrying him.
Leila wanted to stay. After a while, she signed, reminding him of the twenty million she needed for the divorce.
Landon’s expression darkened.
She explained that working at the studio would help her earn the money faster than at the bookstore, allowing her to bring up the divorce sooner.
Though the task seemed monumental, it was the only way she saw a glimmer of hope.
But Landon’s gaze grew more intense, his fury palpable. “Fine.”
With a mocking sneer, he suddenly pulled her close, kissing her without hesitation despite the bite marks still on his lips.
