Chapter 1 She Couldn't Speak
Chapter 1 She Couldn't Speak
Chapter 1 She Couldn’t Speak
Lilian Rossum stared at the clock on the wall, and the hour hand reached 12.
The food on the table had gone cold again, so Lilian took them into the kitchen and reheated them.
At twelve fifty in the morning, the front door opened. Lilian turned her head and saw Francis Landau coming back.
With his suit jacket hanging on his arm and his handsome face showing a hint of drunkenness, he walked towards Lilian.
Lilian stood up and poured him a glass of sobering fruit juice. However, just as she handed the glass over, he knocked it over.
Then, he grasped her chin and kissed her lips.
The smell of alcohol filled the air, mixed with the scent of a woman's perfume. Lilian pushed Francis a few times but couldn't push him away, and he lifted her up and headed straight to the bedroom.
He turned her face towards him and gazed at her with his deep eyes. While caressing her face with his fingers gently, he asked, "Why don't you speak?"
Lilian stared at him intently.
He knew she couldn't speak.
She was mute.
But he would always ask, without getting tired of it.
Sometimes, Lilian couldn't distinguish if Francis was humiliating her or lamenting. This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.
She held his hand that was touching her face, tilted her head towards his palm, and rubbed against it, like a little cat trying to please its owner.
The light in Francis' dark eyes dimmed a little, as if there was a surging undercurrent feeling about to burst out. He held her hand, lowered his head, and kissed her on the lips.
...
When Lilian opened her eyes again, it was already bright outside. The other half of the bed was empty, but she could hear the sound of water from the bathroom.
She picked up the clothes from the floor and put them on. Then, as she put on the last piece, the phone on the bedside table buzzed. It was Francis' phone.
Lilian glanced at the blurry figure through the frosted glass door of the bathroom, and then looked at the phone screen. There were a few messages from Julian Quinn.
"Did you go back?"
"You do this every time. Do you have to go to that dummy to disgust and annoy me?"
Lilian's eyelashes trembled a bit.
The bathroom door opened, and Francis walked out, wrapped in a towel.
There was still steam rising from his body, and his wet hair hung down. The tips of his hair were still dripping. The drops were falling onto his chest and then gathering into a line along the contours of his abs.
Lilian averted her gaze and lowered her head to button her clothes.
Francis approached the bed, picked up his phone, and glanced at Lilian, who was still dressing.
"Did you see my texts?"
Lilian raised a faint smile and shook her head slightly.
On their wedding day, he told her, "Be good. Don't love me. We will be like before. I will take care of you for a lifetime."
He told her not to love him.
So why bother caring about if she saw his messages?
He wouldn't care anyway. He wouldn't care if she felt jealous, upset, or sad.
Those who were not being loved didn't have the right to be angry.
Instead, her love and emotions would only burden him.
She was afraid that he would step on her heart like the others.
Lilian was afraid that Francis would no longer have her.
She signed to him, meaning - "I'll go make breakfast."
Lilian, feeling sore all over, got up and walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen.
Francis stared at her slender figure, then looked at his phone. He deleted messages Julian had sent.
Lilian prepared breakfast and set it on the table. She poured a cup of coffee for Francis, and placed it in front of his seat, along with a plate containing bacon, eggs, and some bread.
After a while, Francis dressed up and came to the dining table.
The dining room was very quiet. Francis had said before that when he was with her, he spoke as if talking to himself.
Over time, Francis hardly spoke to her anymore. For a while, the dining room was filled only with the sound of cutlery lightly touching the porcelain plates.
"We'll go back to the Landau Residence later," Francis suddenly spoke up.
Lilian paused a little and placed the knife and fork on the plate.
She signed an OK gesture to reply.
Francis glanced at her, and her expression remained docile like always.
She was calm and composed, never causing a scene. She always had a docile smile on her face no matter how badly she was treated.
Suddenly, Francis found the bacon tasteless.
He threw the knife and fork onto the placemat, accidentally hitting the porcelain plate, creating a crisp sound that stood out in the quiet dining room.