His Gentle Voice, His Cruel Thoughts Chapter 06
The apartment in Westfield was quiet. When I opened the door, microscopic specks of dust danced in the air. The place was bare aside from an easel and a few pieces of minimalist furniture. But it was the happiest I had felt
in five years.
I dialed Randall’s number. “Send over the new canvases and pigment. I’m officially starting work.”
An ecstatic shriek erupted over the line. “Oh my Goddess! Do you have any idea how thrilled the director of Crescent Gallery was when he received the confirmation? He nearly lost his mind!
“He gave orders to his team overnight. Next month, they’ll completely clear out the gallery’s grand exhibition hall so it’s exclusively reserved for your work!”
Leaning against the window, I watched the sky gradually darken. “There’s one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Danika Lightwish from Noirwood Enterprise is in charge of securing the license for ‘Moonfall on Leviathan.’ Has she been reaching out to you for partnership talks?”
“Yes. Her offers get higher with every email,” Randall replied. “Shall I just turn her down?”
“No need. Just string her along for now,” I replied and smirked. “Just don’t give her a definitive answer yet. I don’t want her giving up hope too early.”
It was 10:00 pm by the time I arrived at the villa.
The lights in the main hall were fully lit, and Alder was sitting on the couch.
In the past, he rarely waited up for me in the living room, even if I stayed out until the dead of night. But tonight,
he did.
The moment I stepped through the door, he frowned and demanded, “Why are you back so late? Westfield isn’t safe. Can’t you stop causing all this trouble?”
On the surface, he sounded like he was concerned for my safety, but his thoughts followed right on cue. [How could she have stayed out until midnight just to mess around with some paintbrushes? She’s nothing but trouble.]
I looked down and changed into slippers, calmly saying, “I cleaned up the studio and lost track of time.”
He didn’t press any further and just said, “Come back earlier next time.”
There was a trace of irritation in his thoughts. [What the hell has been going something is missing around the house.]
on
these past few days? It feels like
Of course, he couldn’t put it into words, but I knew exactly what it was.
He missed my relentless people-pleasing and piping-hot dinners. After a thousand days of humbly catering to his needs, I had cut it off overnight.
Now, he was just not used to the change. It would be far too late by the time it fully sank in.
Three days later, the surface calm was completely shattered.
That afternoon, I returned to the villa from my studio and ran into one of the patrolling guards at the main gates.
my mind. He respectfully greeted me as his thoughts drifted into
[Ms. Lightwish came over again this afternoon. It was even in Alpha Alder’s car.]
“Again.” That word grated on my ears, but my expression didn’t change in the slightest.
When I entered the master bedroom, the bed was perfectly made, but I immediately caught the faint scent of perfume that didn’t belong to me. Even the positioning of pillows had shifted.
On the pillow on Alder’s side, there was a single strand of hair.
My hair was a natural pitch black, but the hair on the pillow was a golden curl, just like Danika’s.
I picked up the strand of hair between my fingers and silently stared at it for two seconds before tossing it into the trash can.
There were no tears, confrontations, or breakdowns as I turned and opened the closet to pull out a suitcase. Then, I packed only a week’s worth of clothing.
Finally, I reached into the lowest compartment of the closet and pulled out a sealed manila folder containing our mate-bonding contract and the photo we had taken the day we bonded.
In the photo, I leaned against Alder’s chest and grinned like a fool.
In the past, I had always thought he looked picture-perfect in it. But now that I took a closer look, I realized his eyes had zero warmth.
I shoved the contract into my bag, zipped the suitcase, and closed the bedroom door. Then, I left the villa without looking back.
That night, Alder called me three times, but I declined every single call.
A few seconds later, he texted me. I could sense his annoyance even through the screen.
“Why aren’t you at home, Maeve? Answer your phone. It’s late, so stop throwing a t
I calmly typed my reply, “I’m at the studio, and I won’t be going home tonight.”
The typing indicator appeared, and two seconds later, he sent me a half-hearted reassurance.
“Fine, suit yourself. Don’t work yourself too hard and come home soon.”
I stared at the words “come home soon” on the screen and didn’t reply. Instead, I turned off the phone and tossed it aside.
The world finally fell quiet again.
Turning back, I looked at the canvas before me. Deep, oceanic blue pigment spread out beneath the tip of my brush and carved silhouettes into the composition.
This was the centerpiece I had prepared for my solo exhibition, titled “Lost Lustrum”.
It represented a suppressed soul shattering its shackles to be reborn, just like what I was doing right now. Piece by piece, I was stripping away five years of submissive dependency and finding my true self again.
