Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
A sudden chill ran through Leila, while Calvert stood frozen in sheer terror. He trembled uncontrollably, nearly dropping to his knees to beg Gracelyn to stop. The fear in his eyes was genuine.
Leila paused in thought before nodding.
“I can’t see him, but I can feel his presence. Gracelyn, there’s nothing I can do. Even if he’s here, I can’t communicate with him, so I don’t know if I can pass along your message.” Leila considered using this opportunity to manipulate Gracelyn but knew Gracelyn wasn’t easily fooled. So, she phrased her words this way to avoid suspicion.
Sure enough, Gracelyn gazed at Leila, her expression softening.
“Thank you for telling me all this. You’re such a good girl. Just knowing this makes me happy. Don’t burden yourself with the task of communication.” Leila nodded.
Gracelyn lingered a little longer, chatting with Leila before finally rising to leave. As Gracelyn walked away, Leila finally let out a sigh of relief. She cast a discreet glance toward the balcony, where Landon stood silently. Gracelyn had been too absorbed in the conversation to notice Landon.
Just as Leila was about to signal him to leave, the door flew wide open again.
This time, it was Calvert who came in.
Leila glanced at Calvert in surprise before forcing a smile.
“Is there something else?”
Calvert recalled what Gracelyn had told him earlier and the benefits she had promised, his fear largely evaporating. He strode toward Leila, his gaze darting around for anything amiss. Still, he was slightly scared of the existence of a spirit.
Leila’s eyes turned to ice the moment she saw Calvert recklessly rushing toward her. But she kept her voice steady, masking her disgust with carefully chosen words.
“I know you’re eager, but Gracelyn just left. She could return any moment.”
Leila tilted her head slightly, her tone casual.
“Aren’t you afraid of seeing her?”
Before she could finish, Calvert seized her hand. His voice came with urgency.
“It’s fine. I’m here under Mrs. White’s orders. She said that since both of us can see her grandson’s spirit, that means her grandson’s spirit has chosen us. We should conceive a child. His soul will be reborn into our baby.”
A slow, suffocating horror crept over Leila’s skin. In the brief moment of her daze, Calvert had already yanked her toward the bed. Panic surged through her. She fought against him, her voice sharp with desperation.
“Calvert, stop! This is madness! I won’t let my child be used for something like this. We need to talk about this-“
Her struggles only seemed to ignite his burning desires. He exhaled raggedly, his grip unwavering.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t be naive. Maybe ghosts are real, maybe they aren’t. But rebirth? That’s just a story Gracelyn deludes herself with.” Then, with a chuckle, he added, “Besides, does it matter? We love each other. I’ve waited so long for us to make out.”
Leila’s breath hitched. Her fury overtook the fear. She had originally wanted to use the supposed claim of seeing Gracelyn’s grandson’s spirit to keep Calvert away from her. She never expected his intensified, lecherous thoughts.
From the corner of her eye, Leila spotted Landon on the balcony, shifting restlessly, his body tensed like a coiled spring. He was ready to step in, to throw Calvert out without a second thought.
Taking a steadying breath and gazing at Calvert, she softened her voice, layering it with false vulnerability.
“Calvert, please… I just… I don’t want to do it now. Can we wait? At least until after we’re married?”
But then, Calvert’s expression twisted with fury.
“You’re playing games with me, aren’t you?” His voice darkened, his eyes narrowing.
“You don’t love me. You’ve just been using me this whole time. Wait until we’re married? That’s just an excuse.”
He took a step closer.
“The truth is, you don’t want me at all, do you?”
Leila met his gaze, and suddenly, she knew-there was no point pretending anymore. She didn’t hesitate. Her palm struck his face with a sharp, echoing crack.
“You’re right,” she said, her voice turning glacial.
“I don’t want you. Not now, not ever.”
But Leila wasn’t finished. She leaned in, her words laced with quiet venom.
“Do you have any idea how sick I feel every time you’re near me?”
Calvert inhaled sharply, his body going rigid.
“You-“
That was all he managed before Leila drove her knee into his crotch. He crumpled with a strangled gasp, hands clutching himself in agony. Without wasting another second, Leila leapt off the bed.
Calvert’s eyes flickered with shock as he wheezed.
“Your legs? When did-when did they heal?”
Leila didn’t bother answering. She had no time for explanations-only escape. She wasn’t going to let this old pervert have his way with her.
Reaching the balcony, Leila signaled Landon with her eyes, urging him to hide. Even if she failed, he still had a chance. She wasn’t going to drag him down with her.
Landon nodded. Without a word, he stepped into the room.
Leila’s breath caught in her throat. She lunged forward, grabbing his hand, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Landon, no! I told you to run-why are you going in there?” But Landon only smiled, soft and unwavering.
“And leave you behind?” His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.
“I’d rather stay here with you.” He squeezed her hand gently. His gaze locked onto hers, steady and determined.
“Leila, I finally found you. I promised I wouldn’t take reckless risks. But I’m not letting you take them either. Don’t worry. Leave this to me.”
Leila felt her chest tighten. She wanted to stop him and beg him not to do anything reckless. But she saw the determination in his eyes and let go of his hand.
When Landon strode into the room, Calvert was cursing under his breath as he tore through the room, searching for a weapon. His hands fumbled through drawers, shoving objects aside with mounting frustration. His voice dripped with venom.
“That lying witch, thought she could fool me? Just wait-when I’m through with her, she’ll never walk again. I’ll make damn sure she-“
Calvert never finished his sentence. Because the moment the words left his mouth, Landon grabbed him by the collar.
Calvert barely had time to turn before a fist slammed into his face. A sickening crunch filled the room.
Calvert stumbled backward with a strangled cry, his hands flying up in stunned defense. His breath hitched.
“Y-You? Why are you here?”
Landon flexed his fingers, his knuckles already bruising. His expression was unreadable, his voice like ice.
“Why am I here?” He tilted his head, regarding Calvert like he was nothing more than a speck of dirt beneath his shoe.
“You’ll figure it out soon enough. When you get to hell.”
Without warning, Landon swung again. Another brutal punch landed-then another.
Calvert howled in pain, his screams bouncing off the walls. But no one came. No one would.
Leila’s pulse pounded, fear gripping her, but clarity was creeping in. She was starting to piece things together. Gracelyn must have ordered the guards away to give Calvert the perfect opportunity.
Gracelyn had been so sure of her control, so convinced that Leila-trapped in a wheelchair-could never fight back. But she hadn’t accounted for two things. Leila could move. And Landon’s unexpected presence.
Now, because of Gracelyn’s own arrogance, Calvert lay sprawled on the floor-broken, bloodied, barely conscious. He didn’t even have the strength to scream anymore. Yet, through the pain, his swollen eyes flickered with something between hatred and sheer terror as he looked up at Landon. Landon, standing over him like an avenging angel.