Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Landon restarted the engine and began driving toward the house.
“I had no idea about any of this,” Landon muttered, his voice laced with sympathy.
Leila remained indifferent, giving no response. She knew there were many things Landon didn’t know, but only because he never truly cared enough to find out. If he wanted to know the truth, he could have. His blind eye toward anything involving Sarah was a prime example.
When they arrived at the villa, Landon stopped the car but made no move to exit. Instead, he turned to Leila. “You go in first.”
Leila, eager to escape the tension, quickly agreed and stepped out of the car.
Landon, still seated, took a moment to gather his thoughts before deciding to call Shirley.
“What is it, Landon?” Shirley’s voice was light and carefree, as if she was in the middle of a lively game.
“Can you find somewhere quiet? I need to ask you something,” Landon said, his tone serious.
Sensing the gravity in his voice, Shirley excused herself and moved to a more private area. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong with the company?”
Without hesitation, Landon asked, “When Leila came to help at the mansion for your birthday last year, what exactly did you have her do?”
There was a brief pause before Shirley replied, “Why do you want to know?”
“I just need to know,” Landon insisted.
Shirley sighed. “She helped with the party preparations-organizing the guest list and checking what was needed. That’s all. She slept in most mornings.”
“Is that the truth?” Landon pressed, his tone skeptical. He knew Leila wasn’t the type to sleep her mornings away.
“Absolutely! When have I ever lied to you?” Shirley responded, her voice filled with mock innocence.
Landon paused for a moment before revealing what Leila had told him. “You didn’t make her do any housework? No scrubbing floors or washing dishes?”
Shirley stammered, caught off guard by the specifics. “Leila said that? She’s lying! We have housekeepers for that. Why would I make her do those things? I’ve always treated her like a daughter!”
“I caught you trying to hit her with a cane. And that wasn’t the only time,” Landon replied coldly.
Shirley fell silent again, clearly searching for an excuse. After a pause, she finally said, “Yes, I hit her a few times, but only because she made mistakes! Isn’t it my right to discipline her if she’s like a daughter to me?”
“Mistakes? You thought she was involved with Brent?” Landon asked sharply.
“Yes! And even if she wasn’t, she should have kept her distance. Are you telling me I was wrong to think that?” Shirley replied, her tone self-righteous. It was as though, in her mind, Leila was always at fault, even when she wasn’t.
Landon almost responded but decided against it, biting back his words.
Witnessing Shirley’s attitude unsettled Landon, especially considering how similarly he had treated Leila in the past.
Neither Shirley nor Landon had ever taken Leila’s perspective into account, always assuming she wouldn’t speak up for herself due to her muteness. They had judged her by appearances, never seeking the truth, and Leila had been the one to bear the brunt of their mistreatment.
Without another word, Landon ended the call and immediately dialed another number. “Mateo,” he greeted with respect.
Mateo Schultz had been Roderick’s butler and assistant for years, managing many of the Kensington family’s affairs. Even after Roderick’s passing, he had stayed on, as per Roderick’s arrangements for his retirement.
“Mateo, I need to ask you something,” Landon began, his voice a mix of urgency and seriousness. “Can you tell me how my mother treated Leila when she was at the mansion?”
The accuracy of Leila’s troubling account-that she had been made to scrub floors on her knees-depended on whether anyone had witnessed it.
Mateo hesitated, his voice rasping slightly before admitting, “I know.”
“How did my mother treat her?” Landon asked again, pressing for answers.
“Why do you ask?” Mateo responded, his tone curious. “Your grandfather always believed that every action has its reasons. Are you seeking the truth to defend your wife, or to justify your mother?”
After Mateo posed his question, Landon lapsed into silence. Would he confront Shirley for an apology if Leila was telling the truth? And if Leila was lying, would he insist that she apologize to Shirley? The animosity between Shirley and Leila was no secret, and Landon had always known about their strained relationship. He simply chose not to intervene, believing they would resolve their issues on their own.
“Think about it. When you’re ready to know the truth, let me know,” Mateo said earnestly.
True to his word, Landon didn’t touch Leila. That evening, he chose not to sleep in the master bedroom, leaving it for Leila, though he stayed in the house, finding rest in another room.
The following morning, Leila rose early. Without a word to Landon, she had breakfast and left for Hayden’s studio. Her commitments at the Hayes Group were almost complete, allowing her to focus on her restoration work.
Leila’s days had become full and rewarding-a significant change from her past life. Once feeling trapped in the role of a neglected spouse, she now thrived in her professional endeavors, contributing to projects like the promotional video for Halstead University while balancing her time between the Hayes Group and Hayden’s studio.
At the studio, Leila retrieved Roderick’s teapot, eager to restore it due to its simplicity. She dedicated the morning to her task, nearing completion when a loud argument erupted downstairs.
Feeling the tension building in her shoulders, Leila stood up, ready to investigate the commotion.
“We don’t accept work from rivals,” Gregory declared heatedly from below.
“Rivals? We’re simply clients. Are you saying you can’t handle this minor task?” a lanky young man retorted incredulously, flanked by a haughty woman. Both were seated on the sofa, their expressions full of scorn.
Leila approached, her gaze shifting to the table before them. There sat an open box, seemingly empty at first glance.
Upon closer inspection, however, it revealed countless tiny glass fragments, as if a glass object had shattered and been meticulously ground into dust. Clearly, the duo expected the studio to reassemble it.
“We know your firm accepted this project last month, and now you’re tossing it to us? You dare call yourselves mere clients?” Gregory shot back, rising from his seat.
He briefly glanced at Leila before addressing the pair again, scowling. “You’re not welcome here!”
“What? Is Hayden not around? You’re scared to take on the job? We’re willing to pay. Doesn’t that make us clients?” the lanky man sneered.
“We’re prepared to offer a premium. We’re VIP clients,” the woman added, her tone full of mockery. “Or is it that you’re simply incapable? Even Hayden can’t handle this?”
“There’s no job Hayden can’t handle! He’s out of the country on a trip!” Gregory’s frustration was mounting.
It was clear these two were here to stir up trouble rather than seek genuine service. Yet turning them away could harm the studio’s reputation.
Leila moved closer to examine the broken glass fragments inside the box. By studying the larger pieces, she could envision the original structure. The slightly opaque glass, marked by age, provided clues as to how the pieces fit together.
“What are you staring at?” the woman asked, noticing Leila’s focused gaze.
With a sneer, the woman taunted, “Think you can put it back together?”
Leila glanced at the woman and signed her response: she could indeed fix it.
“You…” Gregory, recognizing Leila’s sign language, looked astonished. “Are you sure?”
Leila nodded firmly, gesturing that she didn’t mind restoring it if it helped uphold the studio’s reputation, but she was also fine turning them away if it better protected the studio’s integrity.
Gregory’s initial shock gave way to pride. If Leila believed she could handle it, then he trusted her completely.
“She says she can fix it,” Gregory told the duo. “What’s your move now?”
“She can? Who is she?” the lanky man asked, surprised.
“Looks like the mute wife from the Kensington family-just a housewife,” the woman sneered, recognizing Leila with disdain.
Gregory frowned at the insult, but Leila remained composed. She signed to Gregory for him to translate: “They don’t need to pay the VIP rate. The standard fee is fine. But after I restore this, they must promote our services under their company’s name.”
Gregory quickly conveyed Leila’s terms.
The duo, clearly there to provoke, looked utterly shocked.
“If she can’t handle it, we’ll make sure the whole industry and social media knows that Hayden’s Studio is a joke!” the lanky man threatened after a brief pause.
Without hesitation, Leila nodded in agreement. She gingerly picked up the box and headed toward the workbench on the first floor.