Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Leila rushed to Sophie, her hands trembling as she knelt by her side. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Mummy…” Sophie’s voice was small, full of fear, as she sobbed uncontrollably. Landon wiped the tears from both Leila and Sophie, his touch gentle.
Landon’s face hardened as he turned to give Jenny a cold, piercing stare. The weight of his gaze made Jenny instinctively shrink back, but there was still defiance in her eyes. She had her trump card and wouldn’t surrender easily.
Landon towered over Jenny, his voice a chilling whisper. “Choose how you want to die.”
Jenny’s lips curled into a twisted smile. “You don’t have the guts to kill me, nor the courage to harm me,” she sneered, her voice filled with false confidence.
Just then, Edgar burst into the room, breathless. “Sir, Miss Watts has escaped.”
Leila, who was still trying to comfort Sophie, froze. She turned slowly, catching the flicker of triumph in Jenny’s eyes. A nagging suspicion that had been gnawing at her from the start suddenly clicked into place. So, Jenny and Anna had cooperated. No wonder Jenny knew Landon’s true identity.
Jenny’s smirk widened, embodying self-satisfaction. Landon, watching Jenny closely, let out a low, sarcastic laugh. “Do you really think she’s coming back for you?”
The smile faltered on Jenny’s lips. “What do you mean?” she questioned, her voice trembling just slightly.
Edgar stepped forward. “By the time I got the news, Miss Watts had already boarded a plane to Macau. She’ll land in a few hours.”
Jenny’s face drained of color, breath catching. “That’s impossible,” she whispered, panic seeping into her words. “She promised me… We had a deal. How could she betray me like this? Doesn’t she care about her reputation?”
Edgar’s tone was calm but cold as he delivered the final blow. “Miss Watts hasn’t been a battlefield reporter for years. After being attacked in a war zone, her mental health shattered. Reputation means nothing to her anymore.”
Jenny collapsed to the floor, her face pale and her body trembling with rage and disbelief. Leila, now calmer, replayed Edgar’s words in her mind. She didn’t expect Anna to suffer from mental illness.
That explained why Landon hadn’t promised to send Anna to jail that day. Moreover, according to Edgar’s words, Landon had been controlling Anna all along. Was Landon planning to punish Anna in his own way?
Leila’s thoughts spiraled, leaving her dazed. She barely registered when Landon’s men led Jenny out of the room. The ward was now quiet, with just the three of them left. Landon stood silently beside Leila, waiting patiently.
Sophie, sensing the tension, glanced between her mother and Landon before softly speaking up. “Mommy, I’m scared. Can Landon stay with me?” Her voice was sweet but laced with fear.
Leila snapped out of her thoughts, her instinctive response to refuse caught in her throat. Today had been too chaotic. She reconsidered and said gently, “Alright, sweetheart. You can ask Landon if he’s willing.”
Landon knelt beside Sophie, brushing a hand over her hair. “I heard from the nurses and doctors that you’ve been brave. No tears when you got your injections or took your medicine. That’s really impressive.”
Sophie smiled weakly, nodding. “Because I know my mommy is tired. I don’t want her to feel bad.”
A lump formed in Leila’s throat, her emotions suddenly overwhelming her. She quickly stood up. “You chat. I’ll step out for a moment.”
Unable to follow Leila, Sophie whispered to Landon, her voice anxious. “Landon, hurry up and go after my mommy.” Landon chuckled at her adorable face, seeing the same spirit in Sophie that Leila had when she was younger.
Leila reached the stairwell, closing the door behind her. In the dimly lit space, the soft glow of the green emergency light was the only source of illumination. She stood still, breathing deeply, allowing the darkness to swallow her as she slowly regained her composure.
Just then, she heard footsteps approaching. She turned quickly, ready to defend herself, but a firm hand grasped her wrist before she could react. A familiar voice spoke softly. “If I had been a second slower, you would’ve slapped me.”
The tension in Leila’s eyes eased, though her annoyance lingered. “You were sneaking up on me. How am I supposed to know it wasn’t someone with bad intentions? You can’t blame me for that.”
Landon released her wrist and stood across from her, his expression serious, as if searching for something in her face. “Are you still angry with me?”
Leila hesitated, unsure how to respond. What she had said to him before had been a bit too much. After everything that happened today and seeing how Landon had protected Sophie, her feelings were no longer as clear.
Leila bit her lip, speaking softly. “Whether mad or not doesn’t matter. You saved Sophie today, and for that, I’m grateful.”
Landon chuckled, his laughter deep and knowing. “It doesn’t matter as long as you don’t hold anything against me,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers. “If you ever need anything, just call me. I promise I’ll never push you to do something you don’t want.”
Leila shook her head, feeling a little conflicted. “Wouldn’t that be rude of me? I can’t take advantage of you like that.”
Landon’s expression grew more serious. “It’s alright. I owe you, Leila. I’m willing to do anything for you.”
His voice held a weight that made her pause. She could sense the sincerity behind his words, and her heart raced. Leila turned away, not trusting herself to meet his gaze, thoughts swirling in her mind. Had he said these words to others before? Was this just another promise he made to anyone?
Unexpectedly, Leila found herself voicing her doubts aloud. Her words escaped before she could stop them. Landon hastily stepped forward. “No, I’ve only ever said that to you,” he said firmly. “Not to anyone else-Lando, who has done me favors in the past. I’ve wronged you and ignored your feelings. I owe you, Leila, and I want to make things right. I’ve been proud, and I’ve done things wrong, but I’m only willing to compromise for you. Don’t believe me? I swear…”
Leila coughed, cutting him off before he could continue. “Okay, enough of that. Go back to Sophie. She is probably scared being alone in the ward.”
Leila glanced at him, a hint of amusement in her voice. “And don’t say things like that again. Sophie might hear and start laughing at us.”
Landon had been tense, but Leila’s undertone made him smile. His smile broke wide and genuine, brighter than ever. His eyes lit up with joy. “Alright, I get it. But tell me, honey, what do you want to eat? I’ll have it brought to you right away.”
Leila pouted. “Don’t call me that.”
But Landon, acting as though he hadn’t heard her, kept trailing behind, calling her “honey” at every opportunity. As they passed Edgar, Edgar couldn’t help but glance at Landon. It was the first time he’d seen Landon so genuinely happy.
Time flew by, and soon Sophie had nearly fully recovered. Meanwhile, the Turner Group’s reputation soared, attracting a growing number of customers eager to buy its products.
Initially, Clayton had been hesitant about cooperation. But as he watched the Turner Group’s popularity skyrocket, he swiftly changed course and sought out Leila for a partnership. He knew it was the most honorable move, so he lowered his price as a gesture of goodwill.
To Clayton’s surprise, Leila accepted his offer without a hint of grudge, as if she had already forgotten his earlier reluctance. She embraced the partnership readily, even instructing her team to release a series of carefully crafted public statements.
These statements painted a narrative that, during the Turner Group’s difficult years, it was the Morgan Group that had quietly supported them. The Morgan Group had supplied goods at prices below cost, ensuring the Turner Group’s survival.
The story quickly spread, evolving into a tale of two established companies’ remarkable partnership. Of course, some skeptics claimed that the Morgan Group was merely riding on the Turner Group’s newfound success.
But they didn’t realize that this was all part of Leila’s plan to subtly intertwine the legacies of both companies. In reality, the Morgan Group’s achievements far surpassed the Turner Group’s, and the strategic connection benefited them both.
Clayton wasn’t fooled; he understood exactly what Leila was doing. On the phone, he let out a chuckle. “Miss Nixon, you’re a clever strategist. I always considered myself smart and capable, but I didn’t expect to be slightly outmatched by you.”
Leila, unbothered by false modesty, responded bluntly, “Well, I spent $3,000 on business management courses. It’d be a shame to let that money go to waste.”
Clayton appreciated her candor. It was one of the things he respected about her-her honesty, even in the face of praise. “There’s a party the day after tomorrow,” he said. “It’ll be full of entrepreneurs from Halstead. It’s a good chance to expand your network. Will you come?”
That was exactly the opportunity Leila had been looking for, and she accepted without hesitation. Clayton only gave her an address, leaving out the details, but Leila did her own research.
The location turned out to be an exclusive estate where the wealthy gathered for horseback riding, golf, and even hunting on a private hill. It wasn’t just a party; it was a playground for the elite.
On the day of the event, Leila chose her outfit with care. She wore an elegant yet practical ensemble, perfect for the activities but still stylish. Her long hair was tied up in a sleek ponytail, with just a few strands framing her face, giving her a polished but effortless look.
When she arrived, Clayton was already at the gate, waiting for her with a casual smile. When Clayton first laid eyes on Leila, he found himself momentarily stunned.
Leila had become a formidable presence in Halstead’s business circle, known for her sharp instincts, decisiveness, and impeccable vision.
People forgot that behind her powerful persona was a rare beauty. Even with minimal makeup, her natural elegance shone through. Leila’s face, framed by soft strands of hair, carried quiet strength, and her once gentle eyes now held a cool edge, hardened by the experiences she had faced over the years.
Clayton felt a fleeting moment of affection but quickly refocused. “How’s your daughter?” he asked, his tone genuine. News of Sophie’s incident had traveled fast, especially with so many witnesses that day at the school entrance. It wasn’t surprising that Clayton had heard about it.
Leila smiled softly, warmth breaking through. “She’s recovering quickly. She’s already asking to go outside and play. I guess she should be discharged soon. Thank you for asking.”.
Their conversation shifted naturally, flowing into lighter topics as they walked. The atmosphere between them was comfortable, even harmonious. Clayton, clearly in good spirits, mentioned that he’d recently had a fine horse brought in from abroad and suggested they try it out later.
Leila, relieved that she had at least some riding experience, smiled inwardly. She wasn’t the best rider, but she wouldn’t embarrass herself. As they made their way toward the stables, their conversation was filled with lighthearted banter. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of a soft, tearful cry.
Both stopped, exchanging puzzled looks before glancing around. Finally, their eyes landed on a young girl in a green dress, squatting by a chair not far from them, her shoulders shaking as she cried quietly. She looked heartbreakingly fragile, her tear-streaked face adding to her pitiful appearance.
Her hair cascaded over her face, and her slender shoulders shook with each quiet sob. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, her red, swollen eyes full of despair. She bit her lips in a way that made her seem even more delicate.
Leila quickly assessed the situation. The girl had likely come for the party but must have been humiliated for not knowing the unspoken rules of this elite gathering. One of her shoes was missing, further adding to her disheveled appearance.
Instinctively, Leila wanted to step away from the situation. This wasn’t her concern. She planned to ask one of the staff to assist the girl, perhaps finding her something more appropriate to wear.
But Clayton, standing beside Leila, felt a wave of sympathy wash over him. He glanced at Leila. “It wouldn’t be right for me to approach her. Could you ask her why she is crying? See if she needs help?”
Leila was about to decline, her usual detachment surfacing. But before she could speak, the girl raised her head, and their eyes met. The innocence and vulnerability in the girl’s gaze were undeniable, pulling at something deep within Leila.
Leila sighed, glancing at the girl again before turning to Clayton. “Does she look familiar to you?”
Clayton shook his head. “No, I’ve never seen her before.” Understanding the situation, Leila approached the girl, gently helping her up and brushing the dirt from her clothes with care.