Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 135: Chapter 135 Why hasn’t she come down?

Perhaps she hadn’t fallen for Alessio. Perhaps she was simply looking for the attention and affection she had been missing in their marriage.

He leaned back against the seat.

If that’s the reason... then maybe I can be the one to give her enough attention that she won’t need to look anywhere else.

The idea strangely eased the irritation in his chest.

It wasn’t love. At least, that’s what he told himself. His heart still belonged to Jessica. Nothing about that had changed. This was simply about protecting his marriage. About making sure his wife didn’t become emotionally dependent on another man.

That had to be the reason.

The car slowly pulled into the driveway. The headlights cut through the darkness of the mansion’s entrance.

Before it had even come to a complete stop, Daisy opened the door. The cool night air rushed in, carrying the scent of dew and earth.

She hurried out without looking back, her rose-red dress flowing behind her. Almost as if she couldn’t wait to escape.

Cedric watched her disappear into the house. She climbed the stairs quickly, her footsteps fading down the hallway.

A few seconds later, he heard the soft click of a bedroom door locking.

Cedric remained standing in the hallway downstairs, one hand resting in his pocket.

His expression was thoughtful. His jaw was still tight but his heart was beating faster than he wanted to admit.

❀┈┈┈┈❀

The next morning was Sunday.

Cedric sat at the head of the long dining table, a newspaper lying folded beside his untouched cup of coffee. The morning light streamed through the tall windows, casting golden patterns across the table.

The dining hall was unusually quiet, the silence broken only by the soft ticking of the grandfather clock against the wall.

He glanced at the clock.

Nine-thirty.

His brows knitted together. Daisy was usually awake by now. She always came down quietly, greeted everyone with a small bow, and ate her breakfast without disturbing anyone. It had become a routine he had never paid attention to.

"Daisy isn’t awake yet?"

One of the maids standing nearby immediately stepped forward. She clasped her hands nervously in front of her apron.

"I... I’m not sure, sir."

Cedric looked toward the staircase. There was no sign of her.

Another ten minutes passed.

His coffee had already turned cold. The surface of the dark liquid had formed a thin film and the steam had long since disappeared.

Finally, he looked at the young maid again.

"Why hasn’t she come down?"

The maid looked slightly startled. She had worked in the mansion for almost two years. This was the first time her employer had ever asked about Mrs. Evermont’s breakfast. Usually, no one cared whether Daisy ate or not.

She lowered her head respectfully, her lips pressed together hesitantly.

"I’m... not sure, sir."

"Go and find out."

"Yes, sir."

She hurried upstairs, her footsteps light and quick. A few minutes later, she returned alone, her expression uncertain.

Cedric frowned.

"Where is she?"

The maid hesitated. "Ma’am... didn’t come down."

"Why?"

"I... I don’t know." The maid lied, her eyes darting away.

Cedric’s expression hardened. "You asked her?"

The maid nervously clasped her hands together, her fingers twisting. Finally, she decided to tell him the truth. She didn’t care if she lost her job. She had seen too much injustice toward Daisy and she could not bear to stay quiet anymore.

"Sir... actually..." She swallowed. "Ma’am didn’t have breakfast."

Cedric’s brows drew together. "What do you mean?"

The maid looked increasingly uncomfortable. "She... she didn’t have breakfast yesterday either."

Cedric slowly straightened in his chair. "What?"

"And..." She lowered her voice. "...she also didn’t have lunch."

His eyes widened. "...Or dinner."

Silence filled the dining room.

Cedric stared at her for several long seconds. His mind struggled to process what she had just told him.

"What are you talking about?"

The maid bit her lip before answering honestly. "Madam Jenna told the kitchen not to prepare meals for Mrs. Evermont."

Cedric’s face changed completely. The calm indifference that usually masked his features vanished, replaced by a sharper expression.

"...Why?"

"Madam Jenna said Mrs. Evermont should learn some discipline. She ordered everyone not to serve her any food."

Cedric’s fingers slowly tightened around the coffee cup. His knuckles turned white. The porcelain creaked under the pressure.

"And all of you listened?"

The maid’s shoulders trembled. "We... we had no choice, sir. Madam Jenna is the mistress of the house whenever you’re away. No one dared disobey her."

Cedric looked away. His chest suddenly felt unbearably heavy.

"So..." His voice became quieter. "What did Daisy eat?"

The maid hesitated. "I... don’t know, sir. I never saw her eating."

She thought carefully before adding, "Actually... the only times I’ve ever seen Mrs. Evermont eat properly were when you were home."

Cedric froze. "What?"

The maid nodded timidly. "When you’re here, everyone serves her normally. But when you travel for work... Mrs. Evermont usually stays in her room. I’ve never really seen her come to the dining hall. And I don’t know whether she eats upstairs or not."

Every sentence landed like a punch. His grip tightened so hard around the porcelain cup that it cracked with a sharp sound.

The maid flinched.

A thin line of coffee dripped onto the table. Cedric didn’t even notice.

An unfamiliar guilt slowly spread through his chest. Heavy and cold. He had assumed Daisy was simply quiet. That she preferred staying alone. That she was content with her lifestyle in his house.

He had never once wondered whether she was eating. Whether someone was taking care of her. Whether she had anyone at all.

He closed his eyes briefly.

"...Go."

The maid looked up.

"Bring her downstairs." His voice carried authority. "And tell the kitchen to prepare breakfast immediately. The best they can make."

The maid blinked in surprise. "Yes, sir."

She hurried upstairs without wasting another second.

Cedric remained seated at the table. His gaze rested on the empty chair opposite him.

The cracked coffee cup lay forgotten in his hand.