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

Stefanie's eyes lit up as she pulled her wrist free and leaned forward, showing off the necklace around her neck.

"I found it in your room," she said smugly. "When Kevin heard I liked it, he gave it to me right away."

She tilted her head, her smile was sweet. "Tell me, Miss Robles—does it look good on me?"

Venice froze, her entire body going cold as if she'd fallen into an ice pit.

That necklace... Kevin knew it was hers—one of the few things she cherished most. And yet he'd given it away so casually.

Her face went pale, but she forced herself to stay calm, her fingers moving in deliberate, sharp gestures.

[That's mine. Please give it back.]

[You can have everything else, but not that necklace.]

Stefanie chuckled softly, the corners of her lips curving in mock pity.

"Oh? But Kevin already gave it to me. It's mine now." Her tone turned playful, cruel. "If you want it back... beg me for it."

Their eyes locked for a long second. Then Venice slowly lowered her head.

She took a step back and bowed deeply, her trembling hands spelling out the words.

[Please. I'm begging you. Give it back.]

Stefanie's smile widened. "No. I think I'll keep it. It suits me."

Something inside Venice snapped. She lunged forward, her fingers tightening around Stefanie's throat, desperate to retrieve the necklace.

"What are you doing, Venice?!"

Kevin's voice thundered across the hall as he strode in, instantly pulling Stefanie behind him.

She buried her face against his chest, feigning fear, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing.

"Kevin... Miss Robles tried to snatch the necklace you gave me... She got so angry... Maybe I should just return it to her..."

Kevin's gaze turned sharp, his tone icy. "It's just a necklace. I gave it to Stefanie—what's the problem? Venice, must you always be this petty?"

Venice stared at him, disbelief flooding her chest.

[Kevin, you know that necklace—my mother's—]

"Enough!" he cut her off impatiently.

"If you want it so badly, name a price. I'll buy it from you."

He tore a check from his book, scribbled a number, and thrust it toward her. "This should be enough to buy an apartment in Los Angeles. With what you earn selling coffee, could you ever afford a necklace like that?"

Each word drove another nail into her heart. Venice took the check, stared at it blankly, and tore it to shreds.

Kevin frowned. "Fine. You refused it yourself. Don't come crying to me later."

Her eyes were red, her body trembling violently.

For a moment, something flickered in his expression—maybe guilt, maybe irritation, but he quickly smothered it.

"Come here," he ordered coldly. "Apologize to Stefanie."

Venice froze. [You want me to apologize to her?]

"I won't say it again. Apologize," Kevin repeated.

[No.] Her hands moved with defiance. [What will you threaten me with this time? My dog? My cat?]

He didn't even glance at her. "Take her outside," he ordered the guards. "Teach her what happens when someone forgets their place."

Two towering bodyguards seized Venice by the arms and dragged her out into the courtyard.

One kicked the back of her legs, forcing her down—straight onto burning coals.

The sound of sizzling flesh filled the air.

She opened her mouth to scream, but a harsh slap struck her face, cutting the sound short.

Her ears rang; the world tilted.

In the haze, she remembered another time.

When someone had caused trouble in her café, Kevin had stood before her protectively. "Venice, don't be afraid. I'll protect you for life. No one will ever hurt you."

Another slap landed.

Then another.

By the time the ninety-ninth blow fell, Venice's consciousness was fading, her skin was scorched, her cheeks swollen beyond recognition.

She no longer felt pain—only an empty, echoing numbness.

From somewhere distant, she heard Kevin's voice. "Stefanie, how do you feel now? Is your anger gone?"

Stefanie let out a delicate laugh, pounding lightly on his chest. "Make it an even hundred."

Seconds later, the final slap landed.

A dark trickle of blood slipped from Venice's lips—and the world went black.