Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 25: Chapter 25 Rhys

After Daisy left because her mother-in-law called her home urgently, Annie fell into deep thoughts.

She stared at the empty seat across from her, at the half-eaten cookie on the plate, crumbs scattered across the white porcelain like tiny fallen stars. She stared at the cold hot chocolate that Daisy had barely touched, the whipped cream melted into the brown liquid, forming swirls.

She did not notice the man slide into the booth across from her.

"Hmm," a charming voice said, breaking through her thoughts like a stone through glass. "I guess your little head is now going to take all the stress. And you are thinking she does not deserve this at all."

Annie looked up.

Rhys sat across from her, leaning back against the red checkered seat like he owned the place. He was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing forearms that had seen too much sun and too little sleep, the skin tanned and crossed with faint white scars.

His dark hair was soft, falling across his forehead in careless waves that looked effortless but probably took effort. His eyes were beautiful, bluish gray, the color of storm clouds and winter seas, deep and knowing and annoyingly perceptive. A small smile played on his lips, not quite a smirk, not quite a grin, somewhere in between.

Annie rolled her eyes so hard her whole head moved. "Do you ever knock? Or do you just materialize wherever I go?"

Rhys’s smile widened. "I prefer the word materialize. It sounds more magical."

"You sound more annoying."

He placed a hand over his heart in mock offense, his fingers splayed across his chest. "You wound me. Right here. In the heart."

Annie’s voice was flat. "I wish."

Rhys laughed, a warm sound that filled the quiet corner of the cafe, drawing a few glances from nearby tables.

His bluish gray eyes swept over Annie’s face, taking in the worry lines on her forehead, the tension in her jaw, and the way her fingers were curled into fists on the table.

"Correct," he said, his voice softer now, the playfulness fading. "You are worried for her."

Annie’s expression crumbled. The hard edges softened. The mask slipped. "Of course I am worried for her! Did you see her? She is skin and bones. She smiles, but her eyes are dead. She laughs, but it never reaches her heart." She paused, swallowing. "She loves that scumbag, and he does not even look at her. He looks through her, like she is a ghost, like she is furniture, like she is nothing."

Rhys nodded slowly, his expression serious. "I saw her."

Annie’s voice cracked. "She used to be so vibrant. So full of light. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"Now look at her." Annie gestured at the empty seat, at the cold hot chocolate, at the half-eaten cookie. "She is just an empty shell."

Rhys was quiet for a moment. His eyes drifted to the window, to the street outside, to the people walking past without a care in the world, laughing, talking, living. He watched a mother push a stroller, a couple hold hands, and a child chase a pigeon.

"Do not worry," he said finally, turning back to Annie. "Once she recovers, she will understand everything. But you cannot rush it. The traumatic brain injury she suffered in the past affected some of her cognitive functions. Memory, emotional regulation, impulse control. You cannot force those things to heal faster than they are ready."

Annie’s jaw tightened. Her teeth ground together. "I know all of this. I have read the reports. I have talked to the doctors. I have done my research."

"It is best if you let her discover everything by herself. Because what happened to her..." Rhys paused. His eyes flashed with unknown emotions. "Some doors are locked for a reason. You cannot kick them down. You have to wait for her to find the key. Otherwise, you risk breaking what is inside."

Annie stared at him.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Annie held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, Mr. Doctor. I understand. I will not tell her anything. I will keep my mouth shut. I will smile and nod and pretend everything is fine."

"Good."

"But—" Annie leaned forward, her dark eyes blazing, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "But we should do something about Cedric, right? That scumbag. Oh god, that bag of shit is cheating openly in his marriage! He parades his mistress around like Daisy does not exist. He—"

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement returning. "Bag of shit?"

Annie waved her hand impatiently. "Would you prefer pile of garbage? Waste of oxygen? Useless excuse for a human being? Walking disappointment? Human shaped trash can?"

"Pile of garbage has a nice ring to it."

Annie’s voice was sharp. "Whatever. The point is, someone needs to make him pay. Someone needs to wipe that smug smile off his face." She paused, her voice cracking again. "But... if I had been there sooner, she would not have..." She stopped. Her voice cracked. Her eyes glistened. She looked down at the table, at her hands curled into fists, at the chipped nail polish on her thumbs.

Rhys reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. His fingers were warm.

"Do not," he said softly. "Whatever is going to happen is going to happen. And I believe everything happens for a reason. Even the things we do not understand. Even the things that break our hearts."

Annie looked up at him, her eyes wet. "Even this? Even her suffering?"

Rhys met her gaze. "Even this."

Annie’s voice was barely a whisper. "That is a cruel reason."

Rhys shrugged, a small, helpless gesture. "Reasons are not always kind. They are not always fair. They are not always what we want them to be. But they exist. And when she is ready, she will find hers."

Annie pulled her hand away and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist, smearing her mascara. "You are annoyingly philosophical today."

Rhys smiled, the warmth returning to his eyes. "I am annoyingly philosophical every day. You just do not listen."

Annie sniffled. "I listen! I just choose to ignore you. There is a big difference."

Rhys tilted his head. "That is the same thing."

"No, it is not."

"Yes, it is."

Annie picked up a sugar packet from the holder and threw it at him. It bounced off his chest, leaving a small white dusting on his shirt, and landed on the table between them.

Rhys looked down at the sugar packet, then back at Annie. "Children’s behavior," he said, picking up the packet and placing it back in the holder. "Absolutely children’s behavior. You are a grown woman."

Annie crossed her arms. "You started it."

Rhys blinked. "I did not start anything. I simply sat down. You were the one brooding."

"You materialized."

His lips twitched. "That is what I said."