Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
“But serving as an advisor involves more than just expertise in restoration,” Brent interjected. “Hayden, when you opened your studio, it wasn’t solely about your ability to restore antiques, but about your other skills as well, correct?”
Leila grasped Brent’s point this time.
As the eldest grandson in the Hayes family, Brent held a respected position and was expected to eventually assume control over most of the family business. His focus couldn’t be limited to their antiques subsidiary alone. Consequently, the competence of the company’s advisor was paramount. If the advisor lacked the necessary skills, numerous complications could arise. Beyond restoration, the ability to identify genuine antiques was crucial. Otherwise, the company risked significant losses from investing in counterfeits.
“Why do you think Leila is unfit for the role?” Jerome challenged, taking Leila’s side in the debate.
Leila managed a shy smile. Having been away from the business for years, she felt fortunate to still remember her antique restoration skills. She lacked any other notable skills.
Nevertheless, Jerome had immense faith in her. After speaking, he turned back to Brent. “If you wish to challenge Leila, just say so. If she answers your question correctly, you owe her a toast later!”
“Alright,” Brent replied, perking up and fixing his gaze intently on Leila.
Feeling the pressure, Leila forced a smile at Brent, awaiting his questions.
Brent’s inquiry sliced through the room like a well-sharpened blade, demanding clarity amidst the uncertainty. “As the esteemed advisor to our company, what’s your game plan? What do you reckon your duties entail?”
The question felt overly general, like something one would hear in a standard job interview.
Jerome’s expression soured, his displeasure palpable as he bristled at Brent’s straightforwardness, ready to step in and defend Leila from what he perceived as unnecessary scrutiny.
But Leila, undeterred by the weight of the question, raised her hand with an air of poise and began to weave her response.
Leila expressed her thoughts, which Jerome articulated after translation. “Since Mr. Hayes established this company out of his passion for this field, our focus should be on selecting antiques according to his preferences. There’s no need to blindly follow market trends, as we may end up being manipulated by market fluctuations. Sometimes, the market artificially inflates the value of certain antique eras, benefiting only the dealers. As a fledgling company, it’s crucial not to be swayed by such tactics and risk being exploited.
As for antique restoration and authentication, I believe we shouldn’t charge separately. Instead, we should aim to establish long-term relationships with clients who have ongoing purchasing or collecting needs. By acting as intermediaries for them, we can profit from facilitating transactions rather than just charging for labor.”
Brent, unable to understand sign language, awaited Jerome’s translation for each sentence.
As Jerome conveyed Leila’s words, his satisfaction visibly grew. “‘You see, how could an apprentice personally mentored by Roderick not grasp business matters? Leila’s proposal far surpasses yours, don’t you agree?” he asked Brent.
Just moments ago, Brent had reservations about Leila’s abilities, but now, his expression betrayed no hint of complacency.
Initially, his strategy had been to capitalize on market trends, buying and selling antiques for profit.
However, Leila’s insightful explanation illuminated the risks involved in such a venture. Her thoughts underscored the potential pitfalls of blindly following market trends, especially for a company of their scale. Her proposal offered a more sustainable approach, aligning with the company’s long-term goals.
Before Jerome could prompt him, Brent reached for his glass and swiftly drained its contents in a single gulp. “I owe you an apology. I underestimated your abilities,” he admitted, his tone contrite. “I only heard about your marriage…” He paused, tactfully choosing his words. “Since your marriage, you’ve been at home, and I had no idea you still possessed such acumen.”
“She’s Roderick’s most promising student!” Jerome interjected proudly. “At one point, when Landon…” he trailed off, coughing and shifting the subject vaguely. “Roderick had intended for Leila to take over the family business!”
Leila’s astonishment was palpable. She hadn’t been aware of this revelation, but Jerome swiftly diverted the conversation elsewhere.
“Regardless, Leila, we would be honored to have you as our advisor,” Jerome said solemnly, his expression earnest as he awaited her response. “What do you think?”
Leila shook her head gently, offering Jerome a warm smile.
She fumbled for words to form her reply, gesturing her need to ponder over this since she had to take certain matters into account.
Leila struggled to explain her dilemma. Landon’s reluctance for her to work outside the home weighed heavily on her decision. Currently, she was technically apprenticing at Hayden’s studio, which offered her flexibility with her hours. Accepting a formal advisory role might exacerbate tensions with Landon and likely disrupt their already delicate balance, potentially bringing trouble to the Hayes family.
Leila’s hesitance surprised Jerome, and Brent raised his glass in a gesture of understanding. “‘Leila, was it because of my earlier demeanor? If so, I apologize once more…”
Leila shook her head hurriedly, assuring them that it wasn’t the case.
Fidgeting with her fingers, Leila clarified awkwardly that it was her family members who might be against her taking up the offer.
With her words, understanding dawned on everyone, and a thoughtful silence settled over the group.
Landon’s extramarital affair with Sarah, coupled with rumors of him with other women, was no secret among their circle. There was an unspoken sympathy for Leila, the silent and generous wife.
As Leila revealed Landon’s reluctance to let her work outside the home, disapproval flickered across their faces. However, they knew better than to interfere in others’ family affairs. Jerome sighed softly before making his offer. “Ten million annual salary, minimum three-year contract. Leila, when you’ve made your decision, reach out to either me or Brent. We’ll be waiting for your response.”
By the time they finished their meal and left the restaurant, Leila felt like she was in a dream. Jerome had offered a ten million annual salary, with an immediate payment of one year’s salary upon signing the contract.
In essence, agreeing to the offer meant she could secure twenty million within a year, enough to free herself from Landon’s grasp.
Previously, Leila had doubted her ability to amass such wealth in her lifetime. Now, everything had changed. It turned out she was more capable than she had ever imagined.
Back then, Roderick had personally instructed Leila in business matters. As a mute woman, understanding these concepts was essential for her self-protection. It was regrettable that she had ultimately chosen the path of a wife confined to the home, conforming to Landon’s desires and disappointing Roderick in the process.
Reflecting on the dinner conversation with Jerome and Brent, Leila couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope.
Perhaps they truly recognized her capabilities. She had been labeled as Landon’s worthless wife in the past, but it was her own choices that had led to that perception. If she could showcase her skills in the future, perhaps more people would take notice of her competence.
Lost in these thoughts, Leila returned to the car, only to find Gilbert, the driver, looking slightly panicked. “Madam, Mr. Kensington has called four times, inquiring about your return,” he informed her urgently.
They had been at dinner for two hours, meaning Landon had called every half hour to check on Leila.
Leila’s muscles tensed, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.
The car halted at the villa’s entrance, where Leila could spot the glow emanating from the French windows. She quickly exited the vehicle and entered, only to discover Landon seated in the dining area, his eyes fixed on her.
A wine glass, half-filled with red wine, stood before Landon, alongside untouched dishes expertly prepared by nutritionists for their evening meal. Leila paused, memories flooding back of the numerous turns she had waited for Landon to join her for dinner during their marriage. However, Landon rarely returned home and had never witnessed her anticipatory waits.
Now, the tables were turned, and Landon was the one waiting. The reversal stirred an odd feeling within her.
“Out socializing tonight?” Landon initiated the conversation as he noticed Leila standing still.
Leila signed, raising her hand in a half-hearted explanation that Jerome had invited her out to dinner and she assumed he was aware.
“You assumed? So just because you assumed I knew, you thought it wasn’t necessary to inform me?” Landon’s voice was laced with sarcasm, and his expression toward Leila grew icy.
As he made a motion to rise, Leila instinctively stepped backward. She was not accustomed to returning this late and felt a surge of anxiety. Despite this, Leila couldn’t help but retort that she didn’t expect him to be home. After all, he seldom came back and was barely concerned whether she had dinner.
At her retort, Landon abruptly stood up, causing his chair to topple over with a resounding crash. “Are you blaming me?” he demanded, his voice tight with tension.
Leila shook her head gently, explaining she was just used to him being away a lot. As she spoke, she closed her eyes, perhaps to hold back tears or to mask the fear that flickered behind them.
Landon, however, did not approach her. Instead, he strode over to the liquor cabinet, retrieved a new bottle, and poured himself a drink, all without a word. Leila moved a step closer, her lips parting to suggest he drink less, her mind conjuring the idea of fetching him a glass of milk to soothe his stomach. But she hesitated, ultimately bowing her head and stifling the urge. Landon didn’t need her overbearing care. His discontent stemmed merely from her defiance, nothing more.
If making him happy meant remaining the quiet, compliant wife, then that was what she would do, rather than fuss over him with unwanted gestures. With a heavy heart, Leila turned silently and ascended the stairs.
The following day, instead of heading to the studio, Leila decided to visit Linsey. Since the bookstore had been burned down, they agreed to meet at a caf? near Leila’s home.
“You’re only allowed to drink mineral water, huh? Other drinks are off-limits. Got it,” Linsey quipped with a mix of amusement and resignation as she ordered an $88 bottle of mineral water for Leila. “Don’t complain about the price of this water!”
Leila let out a sigh, expressing that it tasted just like the tap water back home. “So, how have things been with you lately?” Linsey inquired, her curiosity evident as she eyed Leila.
Leila gestured there was an opportunity that had come up, but she was not sure if she should take it. She took a deep breath as she shared the whole story of Jerome’s offer for her to be an advisor.
“This is an incredible opportunity! Go for it! Why the hesitation?” Linsey’s enthusiasm was palpable. “This beats working at that bookstore any day! What’s there to even think about?”
Leila hesitated, her gaze dropping. She warned Linsey against getting emotional upon hearing her following words. Before this conversation, Leila had kept the worsening state of her relationship with Landon from Linsey, who had believed they were getting better.
Now, Leila laid it all out, explaining her decision to propose divorce to Landon. “Twenty million? Has he lost his mind?” Upon learning about Landon’s conditions for agreeing to the divorce, Linsey was instantly furious. She jumped to her feet, poised to confront that scoundrel Landon.
Leila quickly grabbed Linsey’s arm, trying to calm her. “How can I stay calm? My low blood pressure is suddenly the least of my worries! He was unfaithful, and now he wants to walk away with a settlement? Does he have no dignity at all?” Linsey’s voice escalated, capturing the attention of others in the caf?.
Leila swiftly guided Linsey back to their table and pushed the chilled coffee toward her, signaling her to sip it and cool off. “That bastard!” Linsey continued, her anger barely contained.
Her eyes downcast, Leila explained Landon probably wasn’t thrilled when his grandfather chose him to take care of and marry her. She shared her guess that he might be taking it personally when she brought up the divorce. “You’re still defending him? He’s a grown man. No one coerced him. Why should he be compensated just to agree to a divorce? The Kensington Group is vast. Does he really need your twenty million? He’s just trying to make you miserable!” No matter what Linsey said, the reality remained unchanged.
Frowning, Leila inquired of Linsey about her next step. Once she had calmed down, Linsey too realized they were at an impasse. “I know going to court won’t help. You won’t win. Even if he did cheat, the legal might of the Kensington Group will ensure his victory… My brother could throw in all our family’s resources, but it still wouldn’t be enough,” Linsey admitted with a sigh.