The Devil's Silence

Chapter three_ The weight of silence

Leo's Pov

The last thing I saw before leaving was her face.

That girl from the apartment, the one who thought she could talk to me like we are equals.

I was heading toward my next class when my phone started ringing in my pocket. The screen flashed a private number. For a second I considered turning it off. I already knew who it would be.

I answered anyway.

"Yeah?"

A man's voice came through. "She's back. She arrived last night. You are expected before noon."

My grips on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white.

"I heard you," I said, my voice flat.

"Leo..."

I ended the call.

The sound of the disconnect tone echoed in my ear for a second before dying away. I stood there in silence, trying to push down the familiar heat rising in my chest. Anger. Disgust. Fear_ all tangled together in a feeling I hated naming.

Three months. I'd had peace for three months.

I looked down at my hands. The faint scars on my knuckles hadn't faded. Neither had the one running across my wrist.

Peace was never meant to last for me anyway.

I shoved the phone into my pocket, walked fast towards the lot where I parked my bike, and kicked the engine alive. I drove off to the mansion.

Bu the time I reached the mansion, my heartbeat wasn't mine anymore. I parked and got off, running a hand through my hair as I looked up at the familiar walls.

Same structure. Same suffocating silence.

For a moment, I thought about leaving. Just turning back and riding until the city disappeared behind me.

But I couldn't.

I never could.

When I pushed the doors opened, the air inside felt different_ like walking into a memory that refused to stay buried.

The maids froze when they saw me. A tray dropped somewhere to the left. Someone gasped quietly. Another bowed without meeting my eyes.

Pathetic.

I ignored them and kept walking towards the stairs. I was halfway up when something hot splashed against my shoulder and neck.

I don't need to look back. The sting was familiar.

"Still letting anger lead you, huh?"

Granny Tara's voice was dry, cracked with age but strong enough to pierce. I turned slightly, enough to see her standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding the mug that contain the hot water she splashed on me.

"Morning, Granny," I said quietly.

"Don't 'morning' me," She snapped. "Are you proud now? Even the maids scattered like mice when they hear your footsteps. You turned yourself into God."

I didn't respond. Words wouldn't change what she really thought of me.

"Do you even remember who you were before she found you?" She asked again, softer this time.

That question cut deeper than the burn.

I turned away and started climbing. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Behind me, she sighed. "She will ruin what's left of you, boy."

I stopped just enough to say, "She already did."

And kept walking.

By the time I reached the last door on the right, my heartbeat has slowed again. I didn't bother to knock.

I pushed the door open and stepped in, dropping to one knee before she could even speak.

Her back was to me, facing the window.

"You are late."

Her tone wasn't angry. It was worse, control.

"Traffic," I muttered.

She turned around.

The slap came fast and clean, my head snapped to he other side, the taste of metal filling my mouth. I didn't move, I didn't speak.

"Three months," She said, her voice calm, eyes unreadable. "Three months, and i heard nothing from you."

I said nothing.

"Did you forget who you belong to?"

"I didn't forget," I replied.

She laughed softly, the kind of laugh that chilled instead of warmed. "Then why the silence?"

"You told me to disappear."

"I lied."

She walked towards me. I kept my eyes on the floor until her heels stopped right in front of me. Her hand brushed through my hair once before gripping it tightly, yanking my face upward.

"You think silence can save you from me?" She whispered. "You think distance meant you can be free from me?"

"I had nothing to report," I said.

Her expression shifted_ amused, dangerous. "Then make something up."

When I didn't answer, she slapped me again.

Still, I stayed silent.

That was when she picked up the iron from the table beside plugged it for some minutes, she pressed it against my palm before I could pull away.

Pain ripped through my arm like lightning. I clenched my teeth, forcing the sound in my throat to stay there.

Finally, she released it. "That's better. At least I know you still feel something."

I dropped my gaze again, hand trembling slightly even as I tried hard to hide it.

"You're mine, Leo," She said softly. "Don't forget that."

"I never did."

She smiled then, like my pain was her favorite song. "Good boy. Now get up. You have things to do."

I stood, jaw locked.

As I turned to leave, her voice followed me. "Oh, and one more thing."

I paused.

"She's back in the city," she said, her lips curling fiantly. " You will see her soon."

I froze. "You're lying."

" Maybe," She replied with a shrug. But you will find out soon enough."

I didn't answer.

I just walked out. Every steps heavier than the rest.

When I finally reached the front door. Something inside me snapped. I grabbed the nearest glass vase and threw it against the wall. It shattered, the sound ringing around the place with the screams of the maids.

Then another.

And another.

Pieces scattered across the floor until I could finally breathe again.

When there was nothing else to break. I stepped outside.

I climbed on my bike, flexed my burnt hand, and gripped the handle anyway.

I didn't know where I was heading.

The engine growled to life behind me.

I didn't know where I was heading, but I know I need to prepare myself for the worst.