After Pretending to be Mute for Eight Years, My Boyfriend Left Me

"And, Dad," Venice added softly, "you'll come back for my wedding with Adam, won't you?"

On the other end of the line, her father chuckled warmly.

"Venice, you're my only daughter. Of course, I'll be there."

He paused, then sighed. "But your call came a bit suddenly. I've still got work to finish here, so I probably can't fly out immediately. I'll land in Los Angeles in about seven days."

When the call ended, Venice finally exhaled, the tension in her chest easing slightly.

Her mother had died young, and her father was all she had left in this world.

But she knew Kevin far too well. His love had always been a kind of possession—deep, obsessive, and suffocating. He would never let her go easily.

If he suspected even once that she wanted to leave him again, he would lock her up without hesitation.

Her father was thousands of miles away. No one could protect her now.

So for the next seven days, she had to play her part perfectly—to remain the mute café owner trapped in the gilded cage Kevin had built for her.

Venice climbed back into bed, curling up with her little dog. Exhaustion finally pulled her under.

She didn't know how long she slept before a sharp noise downstairs jolted her awake.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a familiar silhouette standing at the doorway.

Stefanie.

The woman who had just been announced as Kevin's fiancée was now barking orders at the servants, pointing imperiously toward Venice's room.

"Move my things in here," Stefanie said with a proud tilt of her chin.

When she noticed Venice standing by the staircase, Stefanie sauntered over, her lips curving into a delicate smile.

"I'll be taking this room," she said sweetly.

Venice's gaze turned cold. She raised her hands and signed calmly, [There are plenty of guest rooms here. Pick another one.]

Stefanie leaned closer until her breath brushed against Venice's ear, her voice a silken whisper laced with venom.

"What's the problem? You're just Kevin's housekeeper, aren't you? A servant doesn't live in the master bedroom."

Her smile widened. "I'm Kevin's godsister—and his fiancée. You're a mute café girl. What right do you have to compete with me?"

Before Venice could even respond, Stefanie suddenly let out a shrill scream and tumbled backward down the stairs.

Thud!

Her forehead slammed against the railing, swelling instantly.

"Venice!"

Kevin burst in from outside, his eyes cold and sharp.

"Didn't you promise me you'd get along with Stefanie? You couldn't even last a day before causing trouble?"

Venice immediately began signing, [It wasn't me.]

But Kevin didn't even glance at her hands. His attention was entirely on the trembling woman in his arms.

"Kevin..." Stefanie whimpered pitifully, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Didn't you say Miss Robles was just your housekeeper? I only asked her to tidy up and make space for me. Was that so wrong?"

Her voice cracked. "Maybe I should just leave... Miss Robles seems so angry. I'm scared..."

Kevin tightened his hold around her, soothing her gently. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. I'll handle it."

Then he turned to Venice, his expression hard as steel. "When you make a mistake, you take your punishment. Take her to the cold storage."

Before she could resist, two bodyguards grabbed her, ignoring her frantic gestures. They stripped off her coat and shoved her into the freezing chamber.

The air was sharp as knives, and the temperature was negative twenty degrees.

By midnight, Kevin stood outside the frosted glass window, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. Through the haze of smoke, his eyes were still dangerously beautiful, but his words cut colder than the air.

"I told you to be patient. Why do you always have to disappoint me?"

Be patient.

The same words he'd whispered years ago, when his hand had brushed over the scars he'd left on her back, his eyes full of guilt and tenderness.

"Venice, I swear I'll never fail you."

Now, those same eyes looked at her as if she were nothing.

When they finally dragged her out, her limbs were stiff and numb, her skin pale as snow.

She could barely stand when she saw the next blow waiting for her—all her belongings had been thrown into the backyard like trash.

Stefanie stood beside the pile, smiling sweetly.

"Miss Robles, I'm so sorry. Your things were taking up too much space, and I may have accidentally cleared them out."

She tilted her head innocently. "How much were they worth? I'll compensate you."

She's the only daughter of the world's richest person. She could buy as much as she wanted!

Venice's fingers moved slowly. [Don't bother.]

But the moment she turned away, her eyes froze.

Dangling around Stefanie's neck was a pendant—a simple silver locket.

Her pendant.

Venice's pupils contracted sharply.

That necklace wasn't expensive, but what was inside it was priceless—a small vial of her mother's ashes.

Her hand shot out, grabbing Stefanie's wrist, trembling with fury.

[Where did you get that necklace?!]