Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
As Leila prepared to climb in herself, Landon abruptly shut the door in front of her.
Taken aback, Leila knocked on the window, gesturing to question his intentions.
Landon ignored her and instructed Edgar to find another car for her.
Edgar, giving Leila a sympathetic look, nodded and cranked the engine to life.
Fortunately, another car pulled up shortly thereafter.
Once Leila settled into the new car, the driver handed her a towel and switched on the heater. The driver even said, “There is some cold medicine here if you need it.”
Leila’s response was a shake of her head. She recognized this as another of Landon’s maneuvers, a mix of kindness and severity. She pondered over his motives and objectives but failed to come to a conclusion. She simply reclined in her seat and drifted into a light sleep.
Meanwhile, Landon, who had taken some sober-up medicine, began to feel slightly better, though his face still bore a reddened hue.
Edgar couldn’t contain himself any longer and addressed Landon earnestly. “Mr. Kensington, I understand your anger about Leila having a child with another man, but confronting her this way isn’t going to resolve anything. You could either have a conversation with her to clear the air, or decide to walk away permanently.”
Landon lifted his gaze, meeting Edgar with a frosty stare. “Since when did you become so invested in my private life?”
Edgar chose to remain quiet, not venturing another word.
Landon exhaled a heavy sigh. “I can’t just let this slide. I was prepared to confront her today, yet I’m terrified that the truth might be more devastating than my suspicions.”
“And regarding the news of Leila’s pregnancy, who spread that around? Didn’t I explicitly ask for it to be kept confidential?” Landon’s voice grew colder with each word.
Edgar quickly responded. “We’re still looking into it, but we should have some answers soon.”
A sudden realization hit Landon, causing him to narrow his eyes suspiciously. “Could it have been that primary doctor?”
Edgar considered it for a moment before replying. “It crossed my mind, but that primary doctor has been with the hospital for years. Sabotaging his own career like that doesn’t add up.”
Drained, Landon contemplated. “Regardless, there’s a betrayer among us. Continue the investigation.”
After a pause, Edgar, a bit tentative, said, “Mr. Kensington, given that the news of your wife’s pregnancy is likely to leak someday, and the child she’s carrying…”
Given Leila’s situation, those opposed to Landon would direct all their attention toward her. Even if Landon were to use Sarah as a distraction, it would prove futile.
However, if it became known that Landon wasn’t the father, as the primary doctor had misled Landon to believe, his reputation would take a hit, and Leila would face relentless scorn.
By then, Shirley would definitely react dramatically. She had always harbored resentment toward Leila. One could only guess at her potential actions.
This shouldn’t be a dilemma. After all, Landon could easily extricate himself from troubles, yet he found himself unable to detach.
“Why do you think I insisted she stay by my side?” Landon’s gaze upon Edgar was icy.
Edgar finally grasped it, a sigh escaping him silently. Landon was truly in a bind. He couldn’t help but ponder what Leila was thinking.
Having observed the past, Edgar was convinced that Leila harbored some unresolved feelings for Landon. It all came down to who would make the first move.
Stepping out of the car and glancing at the familiar house, Leila’s heart sank with a swirl of emotions. Exhaustion gripped her. She was still damp from before, and the chilly wind bit at her skin. All she yearned for was a warm shower and some rest.
However, Landon had other plans.
As Leila walked into the villa, Landon lounged on the couch, his long legs casually crossed, head reclined, revealing his striking jawline and prominent Adam’s apple.
Leila quickened her steps, feigning ignorance of his presence, but her attempt to escape was futile.
“You’re avoiding me? Do you think I’m a virus?” Landon queried, lifting his head to lock eyes with her. “Have you forgotten our agreement today?”
Leila motioned with her hands, signaling that she remembered but was just not feeling well and desperately needed to rest.
Landon didn’t respond but rose to his feet, slightly unsteady from the effects of alcohol.
Leila watched from a short distance, not bothering to help him.
Landon was clenching his teeth in frustration. “What if I slipped and cracked my skull on this table, dying right here? Would that make you happy?”
Only then did Leila approach, though hesitantly. She took hold of Landon’s arm, signaling that she could help him up. However, if he needed further assistance, he should call on other servants since, if irritated, there was little she could do, and she needed to prioritize the baby she was carrying.
Landon let out a soft chuckle. “Taking care of that lump of flesh, but not willing to take care of me?”
His words immediately angered Leila. She released his hand sharply. She gestured firmly, making it clear that it wasn’t just some “lump of flesh.” It was her child, and he needed to mind his language.
As she released him, Landon lost his footing and tumbled onto the couch.
It was not a harsh fall, but he did bump his head against the back of the sofa.
Leila’s heart raced with panic. Could this be serious? She quickly knelt beside him, her eyes wide with concern, and began to shake him gently.
Seeing no response from Landon, and with her inability to speak, Leila’s hands trembled as she pulled out her phone to message Edgar for help.
Before she could send the message, a light chuckle from Landon interrupted her. It sounded almost like mockery.
Leila felt a surge of genuine rage. There was no justification for his games.
She shot him a piercing glare, turned around, and stormed toward the guest room. With a sharp slam of the door and a decisive click of the lock, she shut herself away.
Shortly afterward, Leila’s phone buzzed with a message from Brent. “How’s it going? Is Landon giving you trouble? Where are you now?”
Not just Brent, but Irene had also reached out, both clearly worried about Leila.
Feeling mixed emotions, Leila lifted her phone, managed a weak smile for the camera, and snapped a photo. She sent the photo with a message. “I’m fine now. Landon won’t bother me. We’ve laid down some ground rules. Don’t worry. I’ll keep in touch with you both every day.”
Brent’s response came quickly, his relief palpable.
Yet, as Brent replied, his face hardened, his eyes cooling to a distant, frosty stare. “Where is Boris? Haven’t you caught him yet?”
A worried voice echoed from the other end of the phone. “Mr. Hayes, it seems we’re out of options. This boy is too sharp. He figured out something was amiss and took off. Going after his mother could backfire in ways we can’t predict.”
Brent’s hands tightened into fists, his eyes shimmering with a frosty glare. “I’ve been cast as the villain by everyone. My reputation no longer matters to me. Set it up. I need to have a serious conversation with him.”
As Brent ended the call, an urgent update came from the hospital. “Mr. Hayes, good news, Jerome has woken up.”
At that moment, Brent’s concerns vanished. He floored the accelerator and sped toward the hospital.
Before Brent even reached Jerome’s ward, the all-too-familiar, grating sound of weeping reached his ears.
Sophia was saying emotionally, “Dad, I was terrified while you were out. I promise never to be disobedient and wander off again. I’ve brought Boris back with me. He’ll look after you.”
Brent, his expression unyielding, swung the ward door open. He saw Sophia clutching Jerome’s hand, her tears flowing freely. Yet, to Brent, Sophia’s sorrow seemed tinged with insincerity.
Jerome appeared frail, a stark contrast to his previous vitality. He feebly extended his hand toward Sophia, his eyes lighting up slightly. “Sophia.”
Tears welled up in Jerome’s eyes. After all, Sophia was his only daughter, despite their past misunderstandings.
With age, the importance of family bonds and the joy of kinship often became more apparent.
Sophia, agitated, affectionately called Jerome “daddy.”
For a moment, Brent questioned whether his recollection of Sophia, who had bitterly denounced Jerome over her husband, was merely an illusion.
Sophia dabbed at her tears before casually turning to notice Brent by the door, quickly offering him a warm smile. “Why are you lingering at the door? Come in and see your grandfather.”
Brent approached with a somber face, listening as Sophia resumed her performance. “Dad, please don’t be upset. Brent hasn’t been able to visit the hospital much recently because he’s been swamped. But look, he’s here now. He really is a devoted grandson.”