Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Leila stood from her desk, meeting Stella’s gaze with a calm, stoic expression. The office had been quiet, the only disruption being Stella’s dramatic entrance.
Leila knew exactly why Stella was here-to nitpick and stir up trouble, fabricating issues to create conflict.
“Even if this department is new, you need to follow company guidelines. The way these cabinets are arranged violates our standards. Rearrange them immediately, or expect a penalty,” Stella demanded, gesturing toward the cabinets in the corner.
“The items stored there are sensitive to heat, which is why they’re placed away from the windows, following company regulations,” Irene responded sharply, countering Stella’s false claim.
Irene, who had dealt with Stella’s antics before, had no patience for her now. She wasn’t about to let Stella’s baseless accusations go unchallenged.
“Did you file a request for these changes, or are you just moving things around as you please? Look at your manager! She doesn’t even understand the company’s policies. She’s nothing but a housewife who’s never held a real job. How dare she come in here and dictate what we do?” Stella spat, her disdain for Leila obvious.
Leila had been prepared for Stella’s tactics. Earlier, she had discreetly composed a message on her phone, anticipating Stella’s provocation. Now, she calmly showed the message to Stella: “Does Jerome know about the fire incident?”
Jerome had once apologized to Leila on Stella’s behalf after she had slandered Leila at a party. Upon reflection, Leila realized that the fire incident at the bookstore, a significant event, was unknown to other members of the Hayes family.
As expected, Stella’s arrogant demeanor faltered upon reading the message, her face contorting with fear and anger.
“You think you can threaten me?” Stella hissed through clenched teeth. “What are you so proud of?”
Then, her expression shifted to a smug sneer. “You know what? Hannah is marrying my cousin soon! She’s not only my close friend but also your mother-in-law’s niece. Soon, your mother-in-law will side with me. So, tell me, how long do you think you’ll last in this position?”
“Stella, why are you here?” Brent’s voice cut through the tension as he unexpectedly appeared in Leila’s office.
He was holding a stack of documents, likely there to deliver something, but his expression darkened as soon as he saw Stella. “Who gave you permission to be here?”
“I… I just wanted to check…” Stella’s earlier arrogance melted away in Brent’s presence, replaced by a hint of meekness.
“Check what? You don’t have any authority in this company. There’s nothing for you to check.” Brent’s disdain was obvious in his curt tone.
“How can you say that? I’m part of the Hayes family too…” Stella retorted.
“Being part of the Hayes family doesn’t give you any rights here. You don’t own any shares of the Hayes Group, and meddling here is unacceptable. I’ve let it slide before, but next time, I’ll involve Grandpa.”
Stella flinched at the mention of their grandfather, remembering how Jerome had slapped her at the banquet, showing no concern for the guests.
“Brent, I was just checking on Leila,” Stella tried to explain, before adding smugly, “And by the way, Hannah, Leila’s mother-in-law’s niece, is getting ready to marry you…”
Before she could finish, Brent cut her off sharply. “Who told you Hannah and I are getting married? I’ve made it clear that it’s not happening, and Grandpa knows this. Where are you getting these rumors from?”
Stella looked visibly embarrassed.
“Leave now,” Brent said, his patience wearing thin. “Or should I call security to escort you out?”
Facing the threat of being forcibly removed from her family’s company, Stella muttered hastily, “I’m leaving!”
As soon as she left, Brent turned to Leila and said earnestly, “I’m not marrying Hannah.”
Leila blinked in confusion, wondering why he felt the need to clarify that to her. Still, she smiled kindly and gestured, expressing, “My marriage has been unfortunate. If you marry, do it for love, not because others arranged it.”
Realizing Brent couldn’t understand her sign language, Leila quickly typed out her message on her phone.
Unbeknownst to them, someone in the hallway was discreetly recording the entire interaction.
Later that day, as Leila exited the Hayes Group building, she noticed a familiar Bentley parked nearby. It was Landon’s car.
Leila hesitated, considering returning to the building, but the car door opened before she could act.
“You saw me, and your first thought was to run?” Landon asked, his tone edged with concern.
Reluctantly, Leila approached him.
“Why didn’t you go home?” Landon asked, reaching out to grip her wrist firmly.
Since it had been late when she and Irene returned from Halstead, they had booked a hotel near the airport and went straight to work the next morning, bypassing the Kensington residence altogether. Leila had assumed that, with Sarah’s failed attempts to undermine her filming, Landon would be too occupied consoling Sarah to notice her absence from home.
Yet here Landon was, picking her up from work himself.
Leila pulled her hand away, shaking off Landon’s grip.
Landon’s demeanor shifted instantly, his frustration palpable. It seemed he wanted to force her into the car but restrained himself with so many Hayes Group employees around.
“What are you up to?” His gaze bored into her.
Leila gestured firmly, reminding him that she had already made her stance on the divorce clear.
A flash of anger sparked in Landon’s eyes. “Just because you brought up divorce, you think that means you don’t have to come home? I never agreed to that! Now, come back with me right now!”
Leila instinctively took a step back.
In the past, if Landon had been this furious, Leila would have immediately yielded, possibly even apologized preemptively. Landon rarely got this angry-usually, a hint of displeasure was enough for Leila to approach and try to make things right.
But today was different. Despite his fury, Leila held her ground, her eyes wary as she gestured firmly that she would return home, but only on the condition that he wouldn’t lay a hand on her. If he couldn’t agree to that, she would never go back.
Landon’s rage simmered, each moment testing Leila’s resolve.
Leila wasn’t used to defying Landon like this. But she couldn’t take it anymore. She had made up her mind-for the sake of her child, she needed a fresh start, away from this chaotic life.
After a long, tense pause, Landon relented. “Fine, have it your way. Get in the car.”
With his reluctant assurance, Leila followed him into the car. She had assumed a driver would be there, but it was Landon behind the wheel.
Bucking her seatbelt, Leila stared straight ahead, preferring silence to engaging with him. The last time she had sat in this car, Sarah had meticulously wiped the seat afterward, making Leila doubt that Landon would ever let her sit there again for Sarah’s sake.
“In a few days, it’s my mom’s birthday,” Landon said as he started the car. “Let’s keep things calm at home until then, and we’ll talk about everything after.”
Recalling Shirley’s birthdays over the past five years sent a chill down Leila’s spine. Those were memories she never wanted to relive. Landon only needed to show up for the banquet, exchange pleasantries, and entertain guests. But Leila had been forced to arrive a week early each year to help Shirley with every detail, even scrubbing each piece of cutlery.
Shirley seemed to relish in tormenting her, almost as if it were her own personal birthday gift to herself.
But this time, Leila was determined not to give Shirley the satisfaction.
Unable to communicate while Landon drove, Leila pulled out her phone, typed a message, and played it aloud using the text-to-speech function. “I won’t be going to the mansion to help with the birthday banquet preparations. They can hire more servants.”
Landon glanced at her in surprise. “What’s this about? What does helping with the preparations have to do with hiring more servants?”
Leila met his gaze directly, her phone reading out her typed response. “Aren’t I treated like a servant at the mansion? Cleaning, taking out the trash, washing dishes. I’m doing jobs no one else will do.”
Landon’s expression darkened, and he abruptly pulled the car over to the side of the road. Turning to face her, his tone grew urgent. “What are you talking about? Explain yourself!”
Leila regarded Landon with a calm expression, her expectations low. She suspected that Landon’s questions stemmed from curiosity rather than concern. He wasn’t the type to defend her, and she doubted he would challenge Shirley or shield her from the relentless bullying.
Instead of going into detail, Leila signed simply, her gestures saying, “Every year, on your mother’s birthday, I end up working like a servant at the mansion for a week. I can’t keep doing this. Is that a problem?”
“Did she force this on you? What exactly were you made to do? What happened last year?” Landon probed, seeking clarity. “Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
Leila nonchalantly listed a few of her previous tasks in sign language, her gaze distant and cold. She described duties akin to those of any household servant, including washing dishes for all the guests and kneeling to scrub the hallways. Cleaning the dusty cellar left her with a persistent cough from her allergies.
Landon’s face slowly registered disbelief. “Why didn’t you bring this up sooner?”
Leila’s response was sharp, her gestures asking, “Would you have believed me if I had? Even now, would you believe me? When have you ever believed me?”
Landon fell silent, recognizing his long-standing skepticism toward Leila and others. He often relied on his own judgment, mistrusting the perspectives of those around him. Now, faced with Leila’s revelations, his initial thought was whether she was fabricating the story to push for a divorce.
Leila’s eyes were filled with disappointment. She gave Landon a brief, piercing look before turning to gaze out the window, choosing to remain silent.