Chapter 122

Renata looked up at her mother, her lips parting as she hesitated. "Mom, I'm not hiding anything. It's just a feeling I have, and I wonder if you've felt it too."

"What feeling?"

"It's Santino. I don't think he loves me. And he has no interest in the Lambert family business... I don't know. I just don't know what he really wants."

Polly's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about? He treats you perfectly well. If he didn't love you, why would he marry you and have a child with you? Renata, maybe we should see a doctor."

She was beginning to suspect her daughter was suffering from postpartum depression.

Renata's composure started to crumble. "You don't believe me, Mom? I can feel whether he loves me or not. Affection... it can be faked."

Polly fell silent, unsure of what to believe.

Now that Renata had brought it up, she had to admit that certain things about Santino seemed odd. He claimed to be an orphan who grew up in a group home, yet he carried himself with an air of sophistication that completely contradicted his background. They had checked, of course. Santino had indeed grown up in that home; the director and others from that time all remembered him.

It was a baffling contradiction.

“Alright, stop thinking about it," Polly finally said. "If there were something between them, it would have happened long ago. Why now? I think you're just bored sitting at home all day, letting your imagination run wild. Maybe you should go back to work."

Renata lowered her gaze and said no more.

...

Latisha handed the copied documents to Rosalie, who glanced at her and said curtly, "Take these to the conference room."

Latisha clutched the papers, standing frozen in place.

Rosalie's patience wore thin. "What are you standing there for? Take them! If you don't want to work, why did you even come to this company?" she snapped. She'd heard whispers that Mr. Lambert was in a foul mood, and she had no intention of being in his line of fire.

After a moment's silence, Latisha picked up a pen and wrote on a notepad: Where is the conference room?

Rosalie stared, first at the note, then at Latisha, her face a mask of disbelief.

"You're... mute?"

Latisha bit her lip and nodded.

A wave of shock rippled through the office. The other colleagues turned

to stare at Latisha, their gazes a

and

mixture of astonishment, pity as like

morbid curiosity Each look was like a needle, pricking at her, slowly peeling back her scars to expose

them for a public execution.

Every stare screamed that she was different, that she wasn't normal like them. She

was an outcast, a freak in a zoo, an oddity for people to gawk at.

"Out the door, turn left, and it's at the end of the hall," someone offered, their voice kind.

Latisha shot the speaker a grateful

look before clutching the documents Even as she

and fleeing the office

left, she could hear the whispers

trailing behind her.

"How did a mute get hired here? How did she even pass the interview?"

"Isn't it obvious? Connections. I saw her getting cozy with Santino Pearce earlier. Maybe..."

"Now that would be interesting. Is our Vice President following in Mr. Lambert's footsteps?"

"Shh... Keep your voice down. The VP is different from Mr. Lambert. He has a wife, and he married into the family... I doubt he'd dare do something like that."

The chatter continued, a buzz of gossip and speculation. Latisha forced a faint smile

and walked on, refusing to listen any longer.

Everyone knew Mr. Pearce had a wife. What they didn't know was that Clifford had one, too. She really was a disgrace, meant to be hidden away.

Was this why Clifford brought her to the company? To force her to listen to these heart-piercing words?