Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 45: Chapter 45 Where is Daisy?

Daisy was still pressed against the wall. Her hands were still raised in front of her face. Her caramel hair was a mess, loose strands sticking to her wet cheeks. The dress was wrinkled. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and her eyes were wide and red and staring at nothing.

Jessica looked at her for a long moment, her expression cold and unimpressed, like she was examining a piece of furniture that had been left in the wrong place.

"What is wrong with this mute fool?" Jessica asked.

Daisy flinched at the word. Mute. Fool. They hit her like small stones, sharp and cold.

Cedric answered quickly, his voice flat. "I do not know. I guess she is drunk."

"Oh, let’s go baby." Jessica wrapped her arm around Cedric’s waist and pressed herself against his side. "I am feeling drained and empty. You need to fill me."

Her voice was loud enough for Daisy to hear, loud enough for the whole corridor to hear, and she looked at Daisy while she said it, her eyes gleaming with victory, her red lips curved into a smug smile.

Daisy did not react. She just stood there with her back against the wall, her hands at her sides, and her eyes fixed on a spot somewhere between Jessica’s shoulder and Cedric’s ear. She felt nothing, or maybe she felt everything. She could not tell the difference anymore.

Cedric glanced at Daisy. His blue eyes were still hazy from the whiskey, but there was something else there now, something that looked almost like guilt and shame, almost like something she had never seen on his face before.

"You go back home before eleven," he said. His voice was flat and cold, like he was giving an order to a servant, like she was not his wife, like she was a piece of furniture he was tired of looking at.

Daisy did not nod. She did not move. She just stared at him without any thoughts, her mind blank, her heart hollow.

Cedric turned away.

He walked down the corridor with Jessica on his arm, her red dress swaying with each step, her red hair bouncing against her shoulders, her heels clicking against the floor like small hammers striking stone. They turned the corner and disappeared, and the sound of their footsteps faded into silence.

The corridor fell still.

Daisy stayed pressed against the wall.

She could hear her own breathing, shallow and fast and ragged, each breath a small struggle. Her chest rose and fell. Her hands trembled at her sides. Her wrist throbbed where Cedric had grabbed her, a dull ache that pulsed with her heartbeat.

Her head was pounding. Not like a headache, but like something was trapped inside her skull trying to get out, like her thoughts were too big for her brain and her brain was too big for her head and her head was too big for her body.

She pressed her palm against her forehead. Her skin was hot, feverish, burning under her touch.

She looked down at her wrist. Red marks in the shape of fingers circled her skin, dark against her pale flesh. They would bruise by morning, purple and blue and ugly.

She pushed herself off the wall. Her legs were weak and her knees wobbled, and she had to lean against the wall for support. She took a deep breath, then another, trying to steady herself.

The corridor was empty. The party continued somewhere beyond, muffled music and distant laughter floating through the walls.

Daisy straightened her dress with trembling hands and smoothed her hair back from her face. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her wrist, smearing her tears but not caring.

She started walking.

Her steps were slow and unsteady, her heels clicking unevenly on the floor. She kept one hand on the wall, trailing her fingers along the stone, using it to guide herself.

She did not know where she was going. She just knew she could not stay here.

She turned a corner and found herself in another hallway, this one lined with doors. She walked past them, not looking, not caring.

She turned another corner and found the entrance. The golden doors stood open, and the night air drifted in, cool and fresh.

Daisy walked outside.

The valets were still there, standing by the entrance, talking quietly among themselves.

One of them looked at her. "Ma’am, do you need a taxi?"

Daisy nodded.

The valet nodded back and walked away, calling for a car.

Daisy stood alone on the sidewalk, her wrinkled dress clinging to her legs, her messy hair sticking to her damp cheeks. She looked up at the sky. The clouds were breaking apart, and a few stars were visible, scattered across the darkness like tiny promises.

She did not feel the stars.

She felt nothing at all.

A taxi pulled up. The valet opened the door for her, and Daisy climbed inside. She gave the driver the address of the mansion, and the car pulled away.

She leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. The city lights blurred past, streaks of gold, red, and white, but she did not see them.

She saw nothing.

She felt nothing.

She just sat there, her wrist throbbing, her head pounding, her heart and mind somewhere far away, and let the taxi carry her home.

Meanwhile, Alessio kept looking for Daisy.

He searched around the ballroom, weaving through clusters of guests in elegant gowns and tailored suits, but there was no sign of her. He looked near the bar, where men in tuxedos laughed too loudly and women in diamonds pretended to be interested. He walked out to the garden terrace, where couples stood close together under the string lights. He checked the lounge, the restrooms, the quiet corners where people went to escape the noise.

Nothing. Daisy was nowhere.

He asked the man at the entrance, a tall gentleman with a silver name tag pinned to his jacket. The man shook his head. "I haven’t seen anyone matching that description, sir. I’m sorry."