Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Dean’s twisted mind had convinced him that Sophie was Leila and Landon’s daughter. Unable to confront them, he saw in Sophie a chance to unleash his pent-up fury. The fact that she looked so much like Leila made her the perfect target for his rage.
For years, Dean had been crushed under the weight of his failures and the constant humiliation within the Kensington family.
He had no power, no respect, and no outlet for his anger. But now, with Sophie before him, he felt a sickening surge of power, a place where he could finally assert himself, no matter how vile the means. The woman and the little boy watched in growing fear.
They were all too familiar with Dean’s violent outbursts, having often been on the receiving end themselves. Whenever Dean came home drunk, they knew to keep their distance.
But this time was different; Dean had someone else to take his anger out on.
Sophie, still just a child, couldn’t help but cry out due to the pain.
Her sobs only seemed to infuriate Dean further. His eyes flashed with rage as he slapped her again, his voice filled with venom, “Stop crying! Shut up! Don’t you dare cry!” he roared, his words harsh and filled with spite. “Are you trying to make me seem like the bad guy here? I’m doing this to you because you look just like that bitch!”
“Stop! The police are on the way!” The tension in the room snapped like a taut wire as several figures burst in, led by a man whose cold, commanding voice sent a chill through the air.
Dean froze, the blood draining from his face as he registered the voice.
Dean turned slowly, disbelief etched across his features as he recognized the man stepping into the room, flanked by imposing bodyguards. The man was none other than Landon.
The shock was too much for Dean. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, his mind reeling with terror. The sight of Landon, alive and very much real, sent waves of panic through him, so intense that his body twitched uncontrollably.
“No… no… shit! You should have died years ago…” Dean blurted out in a daze.
Landon’s gaze swept over Dean, now reduced to a quivering wreck. Moments earlier, Dean had been the one exerting his power over Sophie, but now he was nothing but a pitiful sight on the floor.
Landon’s lip curled in disgust. Dean thought he could take over the Kensington Group? Even if he had managed it, he would have driven it into the ground.
The woman, shaken but defiant, was the first to regain her composure. She stepped forward, her voice rising in a shrill challenge. “Who are you? Why did you break into my house?”
Lenny trailed behind Landon, his steps echoing confidence as he addressed the puzzled woman with a hint of arrogance, “A good look, this is Mr. Lando, a name you should recognize.”
The woman, still perplexed, retorted, “Who is Mr. Lando? My husband is Dean Kensington, the eldest son of the Kensington family.”
At that instant, realization dawned on Dean. His eyes widened in shock as he recognized the distinct mask the man wore, a symbol known in the highest business echelons.
A wave of panic washed over Dean. Mr. Lando was a figure whose influence was far-reaching and not to be trifled with, especially since his visits to Avalon were rare but impactful.
Dean hastily ushered the woman to the side, his voice laced with urgency. “Quiet down. We can’t afford to stir trouble with him.”
On the other side, Sophie spotted Landon and rushed toward him, unburdened by the fear that gripped the others. Her previous encounters with Landon in the hospital had painted a different picture of him, one not matched by his imposing black mask.
Sophie was adept at reading the subtleties in expressions, and Landon’s eyes, always gentle toward her, revealed a kindness that belied his intimidating appearance. He had also been a steadfast supporter of her mother.
“Please take me to my mother. She couldn’t find me, and she must be very anxious,” Sophie pleaded with a sense of urgency.
Landon gently scooped Sophie into his arms, his heart aching as he noticed her hands and legs were still bleeding. Despite her own pain, her concern was for Leila.
Landon’s respect for Leila deepened, acknowledging how well she had raised Sophie. He blamed himself for his absence during Sophie’s formative years, believing it was his fault she had to grow up so quickly, showing such maturity and consideration at a young age. Gently pinching Sophie’s cheek, Landon asked, “Does it hurt?”
Sophie nodded, her voice gentle but firm. “Yes, it does, but my mom says it will hurt more if I cry. Besides, crying in front of those who mean harm only shows them my weakness.”
Landon felt a deeper pang of sadness hearing this mature statement from such a young child. He softened his voice, offering reassurance, “From now on, I’m here to protect you. It’s safe to cry here; no one will dare to bully you.” His gaze then turned icy as he looked toward Dean and his family.
Dean, consumed by fear, collapsed on the floor, his expression one of terror and humiliation.
In the past, Dean might have stood tall, backed by the prestige of the Kensington family, unyielding before anyone, even Mr. Lando. Now, however, the tables had turned.
Dean, lacking any real power or wealth, was vulnerable to heavy retaliation. He knew that angering Mr. Lando could provide Stan the perfect opportunity to oust him.
With this thought pressing on him, Dean gritted his teeth, stood up, and bowed deeply before Landon. “Mr. Lando, please understand, I had no involvement. I only returned and learned that someone was troubling my son. I was desperate… I truly didn’t know she was your daughter. Had I known, I wouldn’t have dared.”
Landon settled down with Sophie still nestled in his arms. “She may not be my daughter, but I am committed to her protection. Her mother is Leila, whom you surely recognize. Should Leila intervene, her actions would be far more severe than mine.”
“Is she really Leila’s daughter?” Dean gasped in disbelief.
He turned abruptly, his anger misdirected toward his mistress, whom he struck harshly. “Fool, you’ve entangled us in serious trouble! Didn’t you claim her family was destitute, with only an elderly grandfather?”
His mistress, filled with regret, scrambled to justify her mistake. “I’ve only seen an old man pick her up daily. How was I to know…”
She trailed off, realizing too late that there was a powerful individual protecting Sophie.
The revelation shook Dean to his core. Mr. Lando was not someone to cross lightly, and now they were entangled in a mess.
In a fit of misguided rage, Dean dragged his son toward him and shoved the latter against the broken glass. His son cried out in pain.
“I’m sorry! It’s entirely my fault. I failed to discipline my son properly. Please, don’t take this to heart; we meant no harm,” Dean pleaded, desperation evident in his tone.
Then, turning to Sophie with a forced smile and a soothing voice, Dean said, “Good girl, see? He has apologized to you. Can you forgive us? We truly didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll buy you whatever you like-beautiful clothes, toys, anything you want.”
Dean hoped his apologies and promises might mitigate the situation, underestimating Sophie’s perceptiveness despite her young age.
Sophie was unswayed, her expression resolute as she responded, “You’re the one who should be apologizing. They might have brought me here and been unkind, but it was you who hit me.”
Dean was taken aback by Sophie’s assertiveness, a clear reflection of her maturity and her mother Leila’s influence, who had always been stubborn and headstrong.
Landon’s gaze on Dean was filled with disdain. “Do you really think you can fool her just because she’s a child? Dean, look at what you’ve become. Today, you will face consequences to learn from this.”
Dean tried to console himself that it was a mere coincidence. Landon, decisive as ever, contacted Stan without hesitation. “Mr. Kensington, it’s been some time. Do you recognize my voice?”
Stan replied, wary yet curious, “Who is this?”
“Mr. Lando. Ring any bells?”
Recognition dawned on Stan, and his manner changed immediately. “Of course, I have heard of you. What can I do for you?”
Landon outlined the situation to Stan, his voice dripping with irony. “Dean is, after all, a Kensington. Despite his misconduct toward my goddaughter, I must tread carefully. A direct reprimand could invite accusations of me bullying Dean.”
Stan laughed lightly, brushing aside the concern. “No need to worry. Dean has long been a source of discord. It’s high time the Kensington family cut ties. I hadn’t anticipated he’d sink this low, though. Mr. Lando, your testimony will do. I’m officially severing his ties with the Kensington family. No more cleaning up his disasters for him.”
Landon cleverly set his phone to speaker, ensuring Dean caught every word of the damning conversation. The words hit Dean like a blow, igniting his rage. He snatched the phone, his voice seething through the line, “You’re the one who should be kicked out, Stan! Remember, I’ve got enough dirt to bury us both. If I’m going down, you’re coming with me!”
Stan went silent on the other end of the phone. Then, he said with a sneer, “We’ll see who people believe: me or you. After all the bad things you’ve done…”
Dean’s face drained of color. He slumped to the floor, defeated. He was finished. If he had known this was how it would end, he would have never helped Stan take down Landon. Now Stan was in control. No one in the Kensington family could stand up to him.
Dean couldn’t accept it. He was the eldest son of the Kensington family. Why wasn’t he the one inheriting everything? Why? It wasn’t fair!
Landon gazed at Dean coldly. Dean was in a real mess, but he hadn’t had enough fun yet. If Dean was out of the picture, who would be left to challenge Stan?
Landon cleared his throat and said into the phone, “Mr. Kensington, I’m not sure that’s the best move. Yeah, Dean has screwed up, but he’s still your older brother. You don’t want people talking behind your back, do you? First, you take his place, and now you want to kick him out completely? And let’s not forget, you weren’t supposed to inherit anything in the first place. If you hadn’t forced Dean to give up his claim, you wouldn’t even be allowed in the Kensington family house.”
Stan shook with rage. “Who the hell are you? Stop talking!”
“You can confirm whether I talked nonsense or not. It depends on whether you dare take the risk,” Landon replied flatly.
Honestly, at that moment, Stan had a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Lando might actually be Landon. But he soon dismissed that thought. Landon was dead. There was no way Mr. Lando could be Landon.
Stan rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “How do you know so much about the Kensington?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
“There’s nothing I don’t know,” Landon said with a small smile. “Mr. Kensington, you haven’t seen everything I can do. If you don’t believe me, we can test it out. All I want is a sincere apology from the Kensington family. If you can’t do that, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
Stan caved. He yelled at the bodyguards to bring Dean back and then tried to suck up to Landon. “Mr. Lando, if you want anything, just say the word. We’ll do our best to make it happen. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure no one in Burmoos messes with your goddaughter ever again.”
Landon smiled. “That’s not necessary. We’re not in a rush for compensation. We can talk about it when she’s older. Oh, my memory’s not great-I almost forgot that the Kensington family is going downhill. Hope you’re still around in Burmoos when my goddaughter grows up.”