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After Pretending to be Mute for Eight Years, My Boyfriend Left Me
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
Venice's boyfriend, Kevin, was the proud heir of the McAuliffe family in Los Angeles. She, on the other hand, was just the mute owner of a small café—at least, that's what everyone thought. When th...
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第1章
Venice's boyfriend, Kevin, was the proud heir of the McAuliffe family in Los Angeles.
She, on the other hand, was just the mute owner of a small café—at least, that's what everyone thought.
When the McAuliffe family fell into chaos, it was Venice who saved him, who stayed by his side through the darkest three years of his life.
Later, the McAuliffe family sent twelve Maybachs and a hundred bodyguards to escort Kevin back to the McAuliffe estate. Overnight, he became the long-lost heir of the McAuliffe empire.
At his inauguration, a reporter asked, "And the mute young lady beside you—who is she?"
Kevin looked straight at the camera and replied coldly, "Just a caretaker. A mute like her isn't worthy of the McAuliffe family name."
Venice smiled. She had never been mute—and she certainly wasn't some small café owner.
That was all an act.
In truth, she was the only daughter of the world's richest man.
Picking up her phone, she made a single call.
"Tell him I've agreed. The wedding will be in seven days."
Her groom? Adam McAuliffe, Kevin's younger uncle.
But seven days later — Kevin fell to his knees, eyes red, begging Venice to come back.
——
Venice was nothing more than the quiet owner of a small, nameless café. Yet she was also the one who had saved Kevin's life.
When assassins came for him, she had thrown herself in front of him, taking the blade meant for his heart. For three years, she stayed beside him through ruin and exile.
Later, the McAuliffe family sent twelve Maybachs and a hundred bodyguards to escort Kevin back to the McAuliffe estate. Overnight, he became the long-lost heir of the McAuliffe empire.
Before leaving, he had cupped her face and whispered, "Venice, trust me. Once I've cleared every obstacle and officially become the McAuliffe heir, I'll marry you."
Because of that promise, she kept waiting.
From the age of twenty to twenty-five, she belonged to him. For five long years, she gave him everything—her time, her love, her body. The used Durexs alone could circle her coffee shop ten times.
On her twenty-fifth birthday, Kevin told her mysteriously, "I have a special surprise for you tonight."
Venice's heart fluttered. She spent the entire day preparing—carefully curling her hair, putting on soft makeup, and slipping into a delicate cocktail dress.
She waited in the grand villa they shared, every minute an ache of anticipation.
But the man she waited for never came.
Instead, she saw him—on live television.
Kevin stood beneath a cascade of flashing lights, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his handsome features sharp and refined as he officially announced his takeover of the McAuliffe Group.
The reporter smiled and congratulated him."Congratulations, Mr. McAuliffe. May I ask a few personal questions?"
Kevin accepted the microphone with a practiced charm."I know what you're going to ask. Yes—I'm getting engaged."
The crowd fell silent, waiting for the second half of the sentence.
"My fiancée," Kevin said, smiling at the camera, "is Miss Stefanie Cervantes."
Of course everyone knew that name.
Stefanie was the eldest daughter of the powerful Cervantes family—his godsister.
"Stefanie devoted her youth to me, I can't make her wait any longer. Seven days from now, we'll hold our engagement banquet at the Pearl Tower. Welcome everyone to my engagement party."
Venice staggered back, her face turning white.
What about her?
She had stayed with him through the hardest three years of his life, waited another five, given him eight years of her youth—only to watch him announce another woman as his bride.
The revelation spread across the internet like wildfire, climbing the trending searches within minutes.
Another reporter pressed, "But Mr. McAuliffe, wasn't there a mute café owner who once saved your life? Some say she even offered herself to repay the debt. Does she know about your engagement?"
Kevin's expression remained cold and composed.
"A mute woman isn't worthy of the McAuliffe family name. She was just my caretaker."
Standing before the television, Venice shut her eyes as silent tears streamed down her face.
That night, she packed her things and decided to leave as soon as the sun rose, leaving Kevin forever!
But when she woke up, she found herself lying on the cold ground of the villa courtyard—and her beloved dog, the one that had followed her faithfully for five years, was hanging in midair.
Suspended by a drone.
Her blood froze. She frantically raised her hands, signing with trembling fingers.
[Kevin, what are you doing?! Put my dog down!]
Dressed immaculately in a dark suit, Kevin sat on a nearby bench, one leg casually crossed over the other.
"Venice," he said calmly, "I won't allow you to leave me. If you insist on going, then I'll just have to apologize to your dog first."
Her vision blurred with panic. Her hands moved rapidly. [I saw the news. You're marrying Stefanie!]
[You don't love me anymore—let me go!]
Kevin frowned slightly.
"When did I say I don't love you? Venice, I just inherited the McAuliffe family. There are still many internal threats. My engagement to Stefanie is a temporary arrangement."
"Once things settle, I'll call it off and make you my wife."
His voice softened, almost tender. "Until then, we'll live as we always have."
Venice trembled all over, her heart twisting in disbelief. She signed furiously. [Kevin, I will not be your mistress!]
But he ignored her plea and gave a small gesture.
The drone rose higher. Her dog whimpered in terror, struggling helplessly, eyes glistening with fear.
"I'll give you ten seconds," Kevin said, his tone now icy. "Ten."
"Nine."
Venice lunged for the guard controlling the drone, but he easily overpowered her, pinning her to the ground.
"Eight."
"Seven."
Her tears soaked the grass as she screamed soundlessly, [Kevin, you'll regret this! That dog—you rescued it yourself!]
He sat there like a merciless god of judgment, unmoved.
"Six."
"Five."
The drone rose to a hundred meters.
"Four."
Snap! One of the ropes snapped.
"Three."
Another rope snapped. The little body swung violently in the air. Venice's world shattered.
She dropped to her knees, sobbing, signing desperately, [Please! I'm begging you! Let him go!]
"Two."
The final rope gave way—the dog fell several meters before landing in a suspended net beneath the drone.
Kevin lifted the remote control. One button—one command—and the net would release.
Venice's voiceless cry tore through her throat, [Fine! I'll stay! I'll stay with you! Just let him go!]
Only then did Kevin nod. He ordered his men to lower the drone and handed the trembling animal back to her.
Venice clutched her dog tightly, her sobs shaking her entire frame.
Kevin pulled out a tissue, brushed aside her messy hair, and wiped her tears with practiced gentleness.
"Venice, you're the woman I love most in this world. I can't live without you. Stay by my side, behave, and get along with Stefanie. When the time is right, I'll marry you. Don't fight me anymore—I don't want to see you sad. It hurts me too."
The words were barely out when his phone rang.
"Mr. McAuliffe," his assistant reported, "Miss Cervantes just had a fight with her family and ran away from home..."
His expression darkened.
"I'm on my way."
He hung up, ordered the guards to watch Venice closely, and left without another glance.
Back in her room, Venice locked the doors and windows.
Once she was sure no one could hear her, she picked up her phone and dialed a number she hadn't called in eight years.
"Dad," she whispered, her voice clear and steady. "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to return to the Robles family and fulfill my engagement with Adam."
Adam was Kevin's younger uncle.
Venice had never been mute, nor was she truly a café owner. Her true identity was the only daughter of the world's richest man.
Pretending to be a mute had been part of a bet—a test her father set, to see whether Kevin's love for her was genuine.
And now, Venice knew the answer.
Her father was silent for a moment before speaking gravely, "Didn't you have a boyfriend? Does he know who you really are?"
"No," she said softly. "And there's no need. I'll be ending things with him."
Just mentioning Kevin sent a sharp pain through her chest.
"Tell Adam this—our wedding will be held at Pearl Tower in seven days. If he refuses, consider the engagement void."
Seven days from now, Kevin would be holding his engagement banquet with Stefanie at Pearl Tower.
Then so would she—a grand wedding in the same place.
If he was going to celebrate betrayal there, she would make sure he witnessed regret!
第2章
"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?!]
第3章
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.
第4章
When Venice opened her eyes again, the blinding white hospital lights stabbed at her vision.
The air reeked of disinfectant—cold, sterile, and painfully familiar.
She tried to move her fingers, just slightly, but even that small motion startled the man slumped beside her bed.
Kevin's eyes were bloodshot, his face weary and haggard. It looked as though he hadn't slept all night.
When he saw her awake, a heavy breath of relief escaped his lips. "Venice, you're finally awake."
His tone softened, gentle, coaxing.
"I know you're angry," he murmured, "but no matter what, you shouldn't have laid hands on Stefanie. I need the Cervantes family's support—Stefanie is a important part of that plan."
Then, in a voice that tried to sound tender, he added, "But remember this, Venice. No matter what I do, I only love you. Everything I'm doing is to help you enter the McAuliffe family sooner."
Venice stared up at the white ceiling, silent. The words reached her ears but not her heart.
Just as Kevin was about to say more, his phone rang sharply.
Through the receiver came Stefanie's delicate, tearful voice. "Kevin... I think I'm having an allergic reaction. My skin is all covered in rashes..."
[Go take care of her.] Venice's eyes were hollow as her fingers formed the words.
Kevin hesitated only a second before standing.
"I'll have one of the maids come and look after you," he said softly. "Rest well."
But no one came.
For days, Venice lay alone in the ward, enduring the pain that clawed through her body.
Every night, her knees throbbed and itched with unbearable intensity. And every morning, the nurse would peel open her scabbed wounds to apply new medication without no anesthesia. She fainted more than once from the agony.
Worse than the physical pain were the photos that arrived every single day.
Stefanie's messages came like clockwork—each one more taunting than the last.
Kevin feeding her soup, peeling her apples, pressed her against the hospital bed, kissing her neck.
Venice scrolled through them one by one until her heart stopped hurting entirely.
Then she typed a single message. [You don't need to show me these. Kevin is yours now. Keep him.]
Almost instantly, another message came through.
[Still want the necklace? Come and get it.]
Without wasting another next second, Venice got out of bed. She didn't even bother with her coat and just ran out.
Every step tore at the stitches in her legs, but she didn't care.
She sprinted through the sterile corridors, blood seeping through her bandages, until she reached the top floor's VIP ward.
When she burst through the door, Stefanie was already waiting, lounging gracefully on the sofa.
"Miss Robles," she greeted sweetly. "You made it."
Panting hard, Venice still forced herself to stay composed, signing, [Where is it? Give it back!]
Stefanie dangled the necklace in her palm, the silver charm gleaming faintly under the light.
"Relax. It's safe," she said with a smirk. "But that's no way to ask for a favor, is it?"
Venice's nails dug deep into her palms. Her chest rose and fell as she fought to stay calm.
[What do you want?]
"I'm craving seafood porridge," Stefanie said lazily. "From that shop on Wilshire Blvd."
Venice's lips tightened. After a long pause, she nodded and turned to leave. The porridge shop on Wilshire Blvd had a two-hour line.
Her leg wound hadn't healed, and the gauze soon turned crimson again. But she gritted her teeth and endured it—she had to get her mother's ashes back.
The first time she brought it, Stefanie wrinkled her nose. "Not fresh enough. I want pickled vegetable porridge instead."
The second time she said, "Too salty. I want century egg porridge."
The third time, she smiled slyly. "Oh, I forgot—I'm allergic to century eggs. Bring me noodles."
...
By the tenth trip, Stefanie sighed theatrically. "Actually, let's go back to the seafood porridge."
By then, Venice's legs were soaked with blood. Still, she limped all the way back to the VIP ward, clutching the steaming bowl.
Just as she reached for the doorknob, laughter drifted out from inside.
"Kevin, did you really make this porridge yourself?"
Kevin's deep voice replied, warm and indulgent. "Yes. I cooked it for two hours. My princess, have a taste."
Venice heard the sound of him blowing on the spoon, feeding it to her.
The bowl in her hands slipped and shattered with a sharp clang.
The smell of seafood filled the hall, mixing with the metallic tang of blood.
She stumbled back, her knees buckling—and a passing doctor caught her just in time.
One glance at her, and the color drained from his face.
"Young Miss?!" he blurted in shock. "What on earth are you doing here?"
第5章
Venice froze when she saw the doctor's face—she recognized him instantly. He was the same physician who used to conduct her father's annual checkups back in London.
She hadn't planned on revealing her identity so soon, and her mind raced for a way to bluff her way through.
Just then, she heard footsteps behind her. Kevin stepped out of the ward, his voice sharp.
"What ‘Young Miss'?"
The doctor was about to answer when Venice quickly stepped forward, blocking him from speaking. She signed rapidly.
[Nothing. The doctor was referring to Miss Cervantes—he's here to check on her.]
Then she turned and gave the doctor a meaningful look.
Though confused, the doctor caught on and nodded, pushing the door open to enter the room.
Venice turned to leave—but before she could take another step, her wrist was seized in a harsh grip.
"Venice!" Kevin's voice was low and furious. "Stefanie is in the hospital because of an allergy, and you still won't stop? You actually followed me here?"
Venice turned back, her expression icy.
He reeked of Stefanie's perfume; she could practically see the woman's shadow clinging to him. Yet he saw none of the blood that had soaked through Venice's clothes—none of the pain from her reopened wounds.
[I didn't follow you.]
[Miss Cervantes asked me to come. But since it's handled, I'll be leaving now.]
She shook his hand off and walked away.
Kevin stood there, watching her limp down the corridor, her steps uneven and weak. Tiny droplets of blood trailed behind her on the white tiles.
He hesitated, and was about to call after her but Stefanie's fragile voice floated from behind.
"Kevin..."
All traces of hesitation vanished from his eyes. He turned and went back into the ward.
...
That night, Venice returned to her own hospital room alone. She called a nurse to redress her wounds.
By midnight, the wounds had become inflamed. Fever swept through her body, burning her skin and clouding her thoughts. However, there was no one by her bedside and she had to get up and pour water herself.
She lay in bed for two days before her body finally recovered a little.
Kevin never came.
On the day of her discharge, Venice had just finished changing when Kevin appeared at her door.
"Come with me," he said in a tone that allowed no refusal.
[Where to?] She signed.
"Stefanie is discharged from the hospital. She's throwing a recovery party. She asked for you."
He looked straight at her, his voice low and firm. "Venice, you won't disappoint me... will you?"
Venice gave a soundless, bitter laugh, then nodded.
Just four more days. She only needed to endure four more days—then everything would be over.
—
The recovery party was held at a villa with a pool, brightly lit from end to end. The champagne tower sparkled under the chandeliers, crystal flutes glinting like stars.
Stefanie stood at the center in a white evening gown, surrounded by a group of admiring friends, her smile radiant.
"Mr. McAuliffe really dotes on you," said a girl in a yellow dress enviously. "He even booked this Magnolia Villa for your celebration! Do you know how rare these are? Two hundred million, limited edition in the entire Los Angeles!"
Another chimed in, "That's nothing! When you had that allergic reaction, didn't he call in every top expert in the city overnight? And when you still weren't better, he even flew in specialists from overseas!"
"Ugh, you're making me jealous!"
Stefanie's lips curved higher. She absently touched the pendant necklace resting against her chest.
Every word around her struck like a hammer against Venice's heart.
Spotting her, Stefanie waved sweetly. "Venice, you're here!"
"My friends were just craving some coffee. Would you mind making a few cups for us?"
Venice's lips parted, ready to refuse—but Stefanie's fingers brushed the pendant again, quietly threatening her.
Venice's hand tightened at her side. Then she nodded silently.
第6章
The moment Kevin arrived at the villa, his phone wouldn't stop ringing. He had no choice but to lock himself in a room to attend an urgent conference call with his business partners.
The second he was gone, Stefanie and her group of pampered friends became even more brazen.
They found every excuse imaginable to make Venice run errands—mostly to keep brewing coffee for them.
By the third round up and down the villa, the old wound on her leg began to throb again. Still, Venice gritted her teeth and made a fourth pot, carefully adjusting the beans and the water temperature to suit Stefanie's preferences.
But after a single sip, Stefanie's brows furrowed in disdain.
"Venice, this tastes like dishwater. No wonder your café failed—you can't even make a decent cup of coffee!"
Venice turned to leave, expression taut, but the girl in the yellow dress grabbed her arm. Before she could react, Stefanie took the steaming cup and flung its contents straight at her.
Hot coffee splashed across Venice's face and neck, burning her skin. The pain and humiliation ignited something deep inside her.
Venice finally lost control—she lunged forward and yanked the hair of the girl in the yellow dress. In an instant, chaos erupted. Screams, curses, and the sound of chairs scraping filled the air as several people joined the fray.
"Venice!"
Stefanie's sudden shriek cut through the commotion. Everyone froze.
She was standing at the edge of the pool, clutching the pendant necklace in her hand.
"Can we stop now, Venice?" she asked sweetly.
Venice's expression changed instantly.
[Give me that necklace back!]
Stefanie tilted her head, her smile sharp. "You want it? Then come get it."
Venice didn't think twice—she lunged forward, reaching for it.
But just as her fingers brushed the hem of Stefanie's gown, the woman let out a startled gasp. Her heel twisted, and she toppled backward—dragging Venice with her into the pool.
"Ahhh!"
The icy water swallowed them both.
Venice struggled to surface, but Stefanie's foot pressed down on her shoulder, forcing her under.
"Help! Kevin, help me!" Stefanie shrieked, thrashing wildly.
Inside the villa, Kevin had just finished his call when he heard the commotion. He rushed outside, saw the figures flailing in the pool, and without a second's hesitation, tore off his jacket and dove in.
Water filled Venice's nose and mouth, her vision blurring as she broke the surface just long enough to see Kevin lifting Stefanie out of the pool.
He laid her on the ground, shouting her name, pressing on her chest, his face pale with panic. Then, as if driven by instinct, he tilted her chin up—and pressed his lips against hers to breathe for her.
Something inside Venice cracked. Her heart plummeted like a stone sinking to the bottom.
The strength drained from her limbs. She let herself fall, sinking deeper, her body going numb, her mind empty.
Suddenly a faint shimmer gleamed before her eyes. The light came from the necklace in Stefanie's hand.
No. She couldn't die. Not yet.
She still had to reclaim her mother's ashes and marry Adam.
With the last of her strength, Venice clawed her way to the surface, gasping, dragging herself inch by inch toward the edge of the pool where the necklace glimmered faintly.
She was almost there when a shadow loomed above her.
Kevin stood over her, his face cold, his gaze sharp as a blade dipped in poison.
"Venice, when will you ever learn?" he hissed. "I told you to get along with Stefanie. Why do you insist on disappointing me?"
Venice's eyes were red, her fingers trembling as she signed desperately:
[I didn't!]
[I just wanted the necklace back—it holds my mother's—]
"Enough!" he snapped. "Clearly, the last lesson wasn't harsh enough. You still don't know your place."
He turned, snatched the pendant from Stefanie's limp hand, and flung it into the deepest part of the pool.
"You want it so badly? Go fetch it yourself."
Then he picked Stefanie up in his arms and strode away without another glance.
Venice let out a strangled gasp and dove into the water once more.
Her fingers brushed the pendant, finally closing around it—but when she opened it, she froze.
The ashes inside had dissolved, washed away by the chlorine and water.
Venice clutched the empty locket to her chest, tears mixing with the pool water.
At that moment, everything inside her went silent.
She would never forgive Kevin! Never, in this lifetime or the next.
As the last of her strength ebbed away, she stopped fighting. The cold seeped into her bones, pulling her down.
And this time, she didn't resurface.
第7章
That night, Venice came down with a raging fever that quickly worsened into pneumonia.
For two full days, she drifted in and out of delirium, her body burning and trembling, her mind trapped in a fog.
When she finally opened her eyes again, she found herself not in a hospital—but in a dark, damp room on the first floor of Kevin's villa.
The air was heavy with the scent of disinfectant and mold.
Kevin sat beside her bed, adjusting her IV drip. His expression eased when he saw her awake.
"Venice," he said softly, "your fever has finally gone down. The pneumonia is under control. The doctor came earlier—just rest for a couple more days, and you'll be fine."
Venice tried to speak, but not a sound came out. Once, her muteness had been an act. Now, it was real.
Kevin touched her forehead gently, his voice calm and almost tender. "The fever and infection inflamed your throat badly. But since you couldn't talk before anyway, it doesn't change much, does it?"
For the next two days, he never mentioned what had happened at the villa.
He stayed by her side constantly—personally cooking porridge, cooling it with his breath before feeding her; waking up at every rustle she made at night; even holding her in his arms while the doctor gave her injections, whispering soft reassurances.
But on the third day, he changed.
He ordered his men to keep watch over her day and night, forbidding her from stepping outside the villa—not even once.
"Just in case you decide to cause trouble again," he said coldly before leaving.
After that, he threw himself entirely into the preparations for his engagement banquet.
Venice merely sat by the window, her face devoid of emotion, watching the days crawl by.
Then, one quiet evening, her phone buzzed—its ringtone shattering the silence.
"Venice," came her father's familiar voice, warm and steady. "I've landed safely in Los Angeles."
"I've already spoken with Adam. He'll be waiting for you tomorrow at the Pearl Tower."
"Oh, and I brought your wedding gown—the one you chose for yourself back then."
Venice's fingers tightened around the phone, trembling slightly. "That's good, Dad. But... I've run into a bit of trouble here."
Her father had been away from Los Angeles for years; many of his old connections had gone cold. It took time and effort to pull enough strings.
By six o'clock the next morning—the day of the wedding—her father, Ronald, finally broke into the villa with a group of men, pushing past layers of guards to take his daughter away.
All the way to the venue, makeup artists and stylists worked on her frantically, racing against the clock.
...
Pearl Tower truly lived up to its reputation as Los Angeles's most exclusive Michelin-starred restaurant.
The banquet hall glittered in gold and crystal. Roses, airlifted from overseas, filled the air with fragrance, and chandeliers cast diamond-like light across the marble floors.
When Venice appeared, dressed in a backless wedding gown—whispers immediately spread through the crowd.
"Wait, isn't this Kevin's engagement banquet? Why is she here?"
"Is she here to crash it? Please—she's just the owner of some failed café. How could she possibly match the McAuliffe family?"
"Still, she's brave. But the Cervantes family won't let her walk out of here unharmed."
Their murmurs reached her ears, but Venice only curled her lips in a faint smile.
Let them talk.
Soon, every one of them would choke on their words.
The elevator chimed with a crisp ding.
Stefanie stepped out, holding Kevin's arm.
At that instant, the room fell into stunned silence—because Stefanie was wearing the exact same wedding gown as Venice!
Kevin's expression turned dark as thunder. He strode toward her, his voice low and sharp enough to cut. "So this is where you've been hiding. You caused chaos at the villa, and now you show up here—wearing the same dress as Stefanie?"
His words were ice. "Venice, I'll say this one last time—take off that gown and get out! "
Venice met his gaze, her lips trembling slightly before she spoke—for the first time in eight years.
"Kevin, I'm not leaving."
He froze, startled. "You... you can talk?"
But then, his sneer returned. "So what? Even if you're not mute, I still wouldn't marry you."
"Don't worry," Venice's voice steady. "I didn't come here to marry you."
And just then, the doors of the banquet hall burst open with a bang.
Ronald strode in first, followed by a tall man in a perfectly tailored black suit. His features were chiseled and sharp, his presence commanding, every step exuding confidence and authority.
"You recognize him, don't you?" Venice said coolly. "Your uncle, Adam."
She crossed the room, her heels clicking softly against the marble, and took Adam's arm with quiet familiarity.
"But he has another identity now," she said, her smile calm and devastating. "Allow me to introduce him properly—Adam McAuliffe, my fiancé."
She lifted her chin slightly, her voice ringing clear. "Today is our wedding day."