His Unwanted Mute Wife's Daring Escape

Ava quietly slipped out of the master bedroom, her bare feet silently treading on the thick Persian carpet in the hallway. She pushed open Leo's door, which was already ajar.

Morning light streamed through the sheer curtains, illuminating the Lego castle and the storybooks scattered throughout.

He was still asleep, his small chest rising and falling rhythmically. A strand of black hair, just like Julian's, fell across his forehead.

She sat by his bedside, her eyes softening for the first time since she woke up. In this cold, broken world, only this warm little body offered her a sliver of comfort. She leaned down and gently kissed his forehead.

Leo slowly opened his eyes, blinked, and his gaze fell on her face. Then, a bright smile bloomed on his face.

Ava returned the smile with a genuine one that reached her eyes. She raised her hand, making a "good morning" gesture with her fingers.

Leo learned sign language before he could speak, and he imitated the gesture with his clumsy little hands.

The door opened wider, and Mrs. Helen, the housekeeper, came in carrying a glass of warm milk. When she looked at Ava, a familiar pity flashed in her kind eyes.

"Good morning, Mrs. Carlisle," she said softly. "You should get ready. Your car to the arts center will be here soon..."

Ava nodded, her smile fading. She helped Leo up, helped him sit up, and then guided him to put on the custom-made blazer, part of his school uniform.

Heavy, steady footsteps echoed down the corridor. Julian appeared in the doorway, dressed in a custom-made Tom Ford suit, exuding the aura of a powerful corporate figure. He was adjusting his tie, his expression remaining cold and inscrutable.

He glanced at Ava, his gaze sweeping over her as if she were part of the furniture, before settling on his son.

"Daddy!" Leo jumped off the bed, lunged at Julian's legs, and hugged them tightly.

In that instant, Julian's rugged features softened. He leaned down and ruffled Leo's hair. It was the only crack she had ever seen on his armor.

But his gaze swept over her, lingering for a fleeting moment on the faint bruise on the side of her neck. Just a moment. Then he looked away, as if he hadn't seen anything.

He didn't say a word to her. He straightened his tie, turned, and walked toward the private elevator that would take him to the underground parking garage and then to Wall Street.

The elevator doors slid shut softly, making a slight hissing sound. The tension in Ava's shoulders eased a little.

Mrs. Helen sighed, letting out a soft, sorrowful sound, and then handed Ava a cup of black coffee.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Mrs. Helen frowned and walked to the intercom by the door. After a moment, she pressed the button and opened the door.

A young woman walked in, her eyes sharp and intelligent, wearing an impeccably tailored dress. She carried a leather briefcase and wore a professional yet genuine smile.

"Good morning," she said in a clear and confident voice. "I'm Janice Burt, the new tutor."

Her gaze swept quickly, almost imperceptibly, across the penthouse apartment, lingering for a fleeting moment on the Jean-Michel Basquiat painting in the foyer. It was a sharp observation, quickly concealed by her.

She turned to Ava, extending a meticulously manicured hand. "You must be Mrs. Carlyle. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Ava did not take her hand, but simply nodded politely and distantly.

Janice's face showed a flash of surprise, followed by annoyance, before she resumed her usual professional smile.

"Madam has a sore throat today," Mrs. Helen explained, breaking the awkward silence. "She's not much of a talker."

"Oh, of course, I understand," Janice said, a new glint in her eyes—not understanding, but judgment. A hint of contempt. She had clearly categorized Ava as not only taciturn but also weak and incompetent.

The curve of her smile changed, becoming thinner and sharper. Ava had seen this expression before—the same curve on the lips of bankers when they learned her father was desperate.

Janice bypassed Ava completely and crouched down to be at Leo's eye level. "You must be Leo! I've heard so much about you." Her tone was cloyingly sweet.

Leo sensed the change in the atmosphere in the room, shrank back, pressed himself tightly against Ava's legs, and grabbed her skirt.

Janice wasn't discouraged. She opened her briefcase and took out a beautiful pop-up dinosaur book. "I brought you something."

Ava watched her meticulously prepared performance, a wave of nausea washing over her, a chill running down her spine. This woman was more than just a tutor; the position she had applied for was currently vacant. At least not yet.

Ava took out her phone, quickly typed a message, and held it up for Mrs. Helen to see. Mrs. Helen leaned closer to read it, her expression changing slightly, then she shook her head. She whispered in Ava's ear, "She submitted her resume herself, sending it directly to the old lady. Mr. Carlyle knew nothing about it." Mrs. Helen paused, her gaze sweeping over Janice, her voice even lower, "Or rather, he pretended not to know."

Ava picked up her handbag from the side table, nodded to Mrs. Helen, and then turned to walk towards the elevator, leaving her son to a stranger with a calculating look in his eyes.

Before the elevator doors closed, she glanced at the living room one last time. Janice was bending down, pointing to a page in a pop-up book, talking to Leo. Leo wasn't looking at the book; he turned his head to look in the direction of the elevator. Those eyes resembled hers, yet also Julian's, filled with a confusion that shouldn't exist at her age.