Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Calvert awkwardly cleared his throat and quickly said, “I’ve done everything possible. She’s ready to go see Mrs. White now.”
Florrie appeared furious as she pushed Leila’s wheelchair away from Calvert, shooting him a sharp, angry look.
Calvert only managed an uncomfortable chuckle in response.
Watching the exchange, Leila felt more certain about her suspicions. Their relationship seemed complicated, likely romantic, almost as if they were married, especially considering their similar ages. They might even have children together.
While Leila was lost in thought, Florrie had already wheeled her out of the room. Leila didn’t notice Florrie glaring at her, seething with fury. Suddenly, Florrie’s hand came down hard, slapping Leila across the face.
Although Leila didn’t feel physical pain due to the numbness caused by the drug, the humiliation of the act stung deeply.
Her head snapped to the side from the force of the slap. Staring at Florrie in disbelief, Leila was stunned when Florrie’s voice, filled with anger and bitterness, finally broke the silence.
“You bitch, do you think your beauty makes you superior? How dare you try to seduce my husband? Remember, you’re at my mercy now. I can make your days a living hell!”
Leila was shocked by the accusation. Frozen, unable to move or speak due to the drug, she couldn’t understand how Florrie could blame her. How could she possibly seduce anyone in her state? Shouldn’t Florrie be angry at Calvert for entertaining inappropriate thoughts instead of directing her rage at Leila?
Leila realized that Florrie was blindly in love with Calvert and had lost the ability to discern right from wrong. This thought filled Leila with scorn.
Perhaps it was Leila’s unyielding gaze that provoked Florrie. The servant’s anger only intensified, and she slapped Leila repeatedly. Her hands also pinched Leila in places that were concealed by her clothes.
However, since Leila couldn’t feel any physical pain, Florrie’s actions didn’t faze her at all.
Frustrated by Leila’s indifference, Florrie’s eyes narrowed as a sinister idea formed in her mind.
Florrie flashed Leila a cold, spiteful smile.
“You enjoy seducing men, don’t you? Well, I’ll strip you down to nothing and let those men have a good look.”
Leila’s anger boiled inside, but all she could do was glare at Florrie-an expression that didn’t seem to intimidate the woman in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Landon was heading in Leila’s direction, preparing for another rehabilitation session of the day with the assistance of his caregiver.
Lately, Landon had begun talking more with the caregiver, a shift from his usual quiet nature. He engaged with the caregiver, hoping to glean information about the White family.
However, Landon didn’t find out much. The caregiver was only a temporary hire by the White family and had barely learned the household’s rules after just a few days. While there were long-term caregivers, none seemed to be well-versed in the family’s internal affairs. The Whites were very private, and details about the household and Gracelyn’s activities were kept secret.
What little Landon did learn was that Gracelyn had made efforts to help those who fell from the cliff. She took them in as part of her goodwill, seeking blessings for her long-gone grandson. Her motivations seemed to be based on traditional beliefs, but her actions in saving lives were indeed praiseworthy.
The caregiver, a chatty young man named Byron Davies, was constantly buzzing around Landon with endless conversation.
Byron had once urged Landon to see the scenic beauty-Leila-but Landon had declined, assuming from Byron’s description that it wasn’t Leila. Today, the pleasant weather prompted Byron to take Landon out of his room for rehabilitation exercises.
Landon’s recovery was progressing impressively, his persistence in rehabilitation paying off.
Byron couldn’t resist commenting, “Hey, you’re exceptionally tough, as if you don’t feel the pain. Most patients with broken legs struggle to endure the pain from rehabilitation, but you seem unfazed.”
Landon found the chatter bothersome but only responded coldly, “Because I want to recover quickly.”
Recalling something, Byron smacked his forehead and joked, “Oh right, you can’t wait to return to your wife. She must be gentle and gorgeous, and that’s why you miss her so much.”
This time, Landon wasn’t irritated by Byron’s words. Instead, a slight smile formed on his lips as his thoughts drifted to Leila.
Seeing his reaction, Byron let out a wistful sigh.
“It’s rare to find a handsome and devoted man like you these days. I wonder what your wife is like.”
As they chatted intermittently, they were abruptly interrupted by Florrie’s sharp, hysterical voice.
Byron frowned and muttered under his breath, “What’s she losing it over now?”
He turned to fill Landon in. Florrie had been the most longstanding servant at Gracelyn’s side in the White household. Typically, she managed to keep calm, but there were times when her temper flared for no clear reason. This led to outbursts over minor issues and sometimes even physical or verbal attacks toward other servants, particularly the younger ones.
Many servants endured the mistreatment for the sake of the salary, which was higher than the market price, biting back their frustration.
But this time, the situation seemed out of the ordinary.
Landon pointed ahead at Leila’s back, mostly shielded by Florrie, puzzled.
“Are you sure that woman is just a servant? That doesn’t seem right. Why is she sitting in a wheelchair?”
Byron finally realized something was off. But because Florrie had mostly shielded Leila from their view, they failed to connect the woman sitting in the wheelchair with Leila.
After a moment’s thought, Byron exclaimed, “No way! Could that woman be Gracelyn? Maybe Florrie thinks Gracelyn is frail and an easy target, so she’s picking on her.”
Landon frowned, sensing there was more to it.
“The last time I saw Gracelyn, she was articulate and sharp. She didn’t appear confused or weak. If it were her, she wouldn’t just sit quietly and endure it.” Moreover, this property was owned by the White family. Even though most of the White family members were no longer around, that didn’t mean the bodyguards weren’t doing their job.
Having seen Gracelyn previously, Landon knew she wasn’t the doormat type, despite her aged appearance. The person Florrie was hitting had to be someone else.
As a thought occurred to Byron, he gasped, “No way! Could it be the beautiful woman who sought refuge with Gracelyn recently? The only new faces around here lately have been you and her. But I saw that woman recently. She was in perfect health, certainly not someone who would require a wheelchair. Anyway, no matter who it is, I can’t just stand by anymore.”
With that, Byron moved quickly and called out to Florrie, “What are you doing?”
Caught off guard by Byron’s sudden voice, Florrie stopped what she was doing. She turned, her gaze coldly fixed on Byron as he approached.
Florrie remained in place, keeping Leila hidden behind her.
Upon closer inspection, there was a slight panic visible in Florrie’s eyes. She was indeed jealous of Leila but also feared others would report her mistreatment of Leila to Gracelyn.
However, when Florrie realized it was merely Byron, the caregiver, approaching, she breathed a sigh of relief.
The caregivers, who were not related to the White family, had been hired by Gracelyn, which made her cautious around them.
Truthfully, Gracelyn had hired the caregivers primarily to uphold her reputation as a benevolent woman.
Florrie thought for a moment before adopting a scornful look, addressing Byron, “It’s none of your business. I was merely disciplining a disobedient servant. If you meddle in my affairs, I’ll have Gracelyn fire you.”
Honestly, Byron didn’t want to leave his current job. Despite the strange rules in the White family, such as a ban on internet use for staff, the salary was good and the work was easy. The most appealing part was Gracelyn’s preference for silence, which meant they never had to work overtime on weekends.
But Byron’s moral compass wouldn’t allow him to stand by idly. After a brief hesitation, he protested, “If that woman won’t listen, just talk it out with her. If she doesn’t improve afterward, then let her go. Why resort to brutality? If you keep hitting her, I’ll report you to Mrs. White.”
Florrie was visibly agitated upon hearing Byron’s words. She clenched her teeth and retorted, “Alright, I won’t hit her. Just back off. This doesn’t concern you.”
But Byron stood his ground. He craned his neck to get a better look at the person in the wheelchair.
“I can’t just walk away. Let me see who it is. I need to ensure she’s not being mistreated.”
Florrie, losing her composure, fixed a chilling glare on Byron and scoffed, “You want to see her? Fine. But be warned, if you see her face, you’re dismissed.”
Facing Florrie’s cold stare, Byron felt a wave of intimidation, which left him speechless.
Just then, Landon approached, leaning on his cane. He shot Florrie a frosty look and said firmly to Byron, “Come on. Let’s go.”
Byron refused to back down.
“Mr. Collins, what are you doing? Are we really just going to stand by and watch someone helplessly suffer like this?”
Behind Florrie, Leila’s eyes widened as she heard Landon’s familiar voice. There was no doubt-it was Landon’s voice.
Although the caregiver had addressed Landon as Mr. Collins, Leila was sure she hadn’t misheard. Why was Landon here? What could he possibly be doing in this place? Did he know she was also here?
A storm of questions filled Leila’s thoughts. But right now, her priority was making sure Landon noticed her. She was willing to trust him. Perhaps he had been brought here by Gracelyn’s people after the fall and wasn’t imprisoned.