Echoes of the Mute: The Billionaire's Secret Heir

To make sure Gia could successfully win him over, Vertex faked my death. I opened my eyes. Six years had vanished. I stood on the street corner, penniless.

Silas and Gia were already living their perfect, happilyeverafter. Meanwhile, I had just clawed my way out of a burning building, so pathetic I was missing a shoe.

Numbly, I texted Silas. …Can you come pick me up? The phone rang almost immediately. But it wasn't Silas on the other end.

The kid fell silent for a second, forcing a cold indifference into his voice. "Oh.

Another one pretending to be my mom." Chapter 1 Haley, the woman whose phone I'd borrowed, relayed my location.

The breathing on the other end of the line hitched. "Be right there," a soft, childish voice muttered before the call abruptly cut off.

I handed the borrowed phone back to Haley, mouthing a silent thank you. A severe fever in my childhood had severely damaged my vocal cords. I hadn't made a sound since.

Moments later, a sleek car pulled up to the curb right in front of me. A little boy hopped out, his short legs hitting the asphalt. His eyes flickered the second he saw my face.

He kept his expression frosty, silently sizing me up. His gaze dropped to my bare foot. Blistered. Filthy. Smeared with black ash.

I had just dragged myself out of a fire, only to blink and find myself six years in the future. My fingers curled inward. Awkwardness crept in, hot and delayed.

I forced a casual front, my hands moving quickly in sign language. I didn't mean to bother you. Could I just borrow a little cash? I'll leave right away. Six years had passed.

Silas and Gia had built their flawless life. Even my own son was calling someone else Mom. A jagged ache ripped through my chest, settling deep in my ribs.

Halfway through the motion, my hands froze. Asher didn't know ASL. I turned to Gary, the driver, reaching for his phone to type.

But Asher grabbed my wrist, his face set in a deep scowl as he practically dragged me into the backseat. It was rush hour. Car horns blared around us.

I figured the gridlock traffic was making him cranky. He kept his head turned, glaring out the window. I tapped Gary's phone screen and held it out to him. Asher's jaw tightened.

He looked at me with deadserious eyes. "How much do you want?" I typed out the words: One thousand dollars. Asher stared at the screen.

He blinked, hesitating. "A million?" The blood drained from my head. My eyes went wide. I shook my head frantically, waving my hands to stop him.

Asher pressed his lips together, his little voice thick with innocence. "Is that not enough? I don't have that much on me right now.

I'll make Dad give it to you when we get home." I furiously jabbed at the keyboard, the screen clicking loudly under my fingertips. He pushed the phone away.

His tone dropped, sounding muffled. "I don't know all those words. I can't read it." How many words did a sixyearold even know?

He understood the concept of borrowing money perfectly fine a second ago, but now he couldn't tell the difference between a thousand and a million. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

I glanced down. Asher's sneakers were jammed onto the wrong feet. His socks were mismatched. A sharp lump lodged in my throat. Had he rushed out the door that fast?

I pointed at his feet, trying to warn him. But he seemed to misunderstand. He tilted his head. He scrunched up his nose, acting as if it was the biggest inconvenience in the world.

But he still slid his tiny, warm palm into mine. "Fine. I guess I'll let you hold it for a bit." Back when I lived at his estate, nobody gave the mute girl a second glance.

Silas had been kidnapped as a kid. The crossfire took both his parents. Winston was terrified the trauma would shatter him completely.

He brought in kids from all over the city, letting Silas pick a companion.

Out of a sea of loud, desperate kids clamoring for attention, Silas pointed at the clumsiest, slowest one in the room. Me. My family rode his coattails straight to the top.

I only found out later. Silas chose me because I was quiet. I didn't make a sound. I lived in his home quietly until one thunderstorm. The thunder woke me up.

Then, a sharp knock hit my door. I cracked it open.

Silas stood there, knuckles white around his blanket, his jaw locked tight. "Are you scared of the thunder?" I blinked at him, entirely lost, and started to shake my head.

He slapped his palm onto the top of my head, refusing to meet my eyes. "I get it. I guess I'll reluctantly keep you company tonight." Chapter 2 …So stupid.

Did he really think I couldn't tell he was the one terrified out of his mind? Those starved for affection rarely even get the crumbs.

Growing up, I yearned for maternal love but never received even a drop of favoritism from Meredith. She never looked at me twice.

The only time she ever gave me an ounce of praise was the night Silas picked me.

So Silas, who never belonged to me in the first place, was always destined to slip through my fingers. Six years ago, right before the fire, Gia showed me her and Silas's future.

Turns out, I was just the toxic villain in their story.

The manipulative villain who had a messy onenight stand with him, secretly had his baby, and tried to extort a large fortune. In that timeline, I burned to death.

And after I was gone, Gia fixed his broken pieces. They lived happily ever after. Even my own kid called someone else Mom. A hollow ringing filled my ears.

Was I really that toxic in someone else's narrative? Then the flames actually came for me. I choked on a mouthful of thick smoke.

I only had a split second to shove Asher through a narrow crack in the collapsed doorway before a wall of fire swallowed the room.

I blinked, choking on ash, and woke up six years later. I was mute. I couldn't whisper sweet nothings, and I couldn't scream curses. I couldn't even win a simple argument.

If I hadn't been backed into a corner, with only Silas's phone number memorized, we probably never would have crossed paths again.

But sitting here now, a cold sweat pricked my spine. I never planned to step foot in his world again.

I fully expected Silas to chuck a wad of cash at my face and tell me to get lost. After all, in his eyes, that chaotic night was nothing but a calculated trap set by my family.

But things seemed to have taken an unexpected turn. I suddenly felt like I was sitting on pins and needles.

I just wanted to sign that I didn't want the cash anymore, that I needed to get out of this car.

But Asher had shoved the screen away, and Gary kept his eyes glued dead ahead on the road.

I sat there, paralyzed, watching the car descend into the sprawling underground garage of Silas's estate.

Gary mentioned Silas had flown out of the country this morning to close a deal. He wouldn't be back until next week. My old phone had been crushed in the inferno.

The second I popped my grimy SIM card into a borrowed spare and held down the power button, the screen froze for a second. A flood of notifications poured in. I flinched.

A text from the carrier showed someone had been dumping an insane amount of money into my account just to keep the line active. The rest of the missed calls and unread bubbles?

All from one painfully familiar number. My thumb hovered over the glass. I pressed my dry lips together, tapped the thread, and scrolled to the top.

Wren, you sleep with me and just run? I'm not mad. Come out. Stop hiding. The timestamps… My chest tightened. This was right after my family dragged me back kicking and screaming.

Those dark, suffocating months locked in the attic, forced to give birth in secret. They had stripped me of my phone. I was a ghost. …They told me you died.

I didn't buy a single word. Your family used the kid to leverage those lots on the East Side. I gave them the deeds. How much do I have to bleed for you to show your face again?

The kid looks exactly like you. Someone scammed Asher out of two hundred bucks today, pretending to be you. Idiot.

If you don't show up soon, your son is going to get scammed away. … The final message was dated two years ago. If you see this, call me. After that, dead silence.

Not a single digital footprint. A dull ache pulsed behind my ribs. That must have been the exact moment Gia completely healed him. The moment Silas finally gave up on a ghost.

Chapter 3 An invisible vise clamped around my ribs. Oxygen refused to reach my lungs. I had seen it. While standing on that street corner waiting for Asher, I looked up.

Gia's face was plastered across the large digital billboard. She was the stunning new face of Silas's empire. Hot tears spilled over my lashes.

I scrubbed at my cheeks until the skin burned red, but the wetness kept coming. The world kept spinning without me. They had their perfect, flawless life now.

My ghost stepping back into it was nothing but an intrusion. I was ready to walk away. But then Asher showed up.

One chaotic misunderstanding later, I was dragged right back into Silas's estate. I checked my banking app.

I wasn't sure if my toxic family thought the pennies left in there were beneath them, or if they genuinely just forgot I existed.

Six years after I "died," they hadn't even bothered to close my account. With just enough cash to keep the panic at bay, I made a plan.

I'd wire the money for the borrowed clothes and phone to Agnes, the maid, and have her pass it along. Then, I'd disappear. Everyone was happy. I needed to stay dead.

I pushed the door open. Asher jumped, instinctively stumbling back a step.

He caught himself, tilted his little chin up, and forced a casual drawl. "Where are you going?" I had already downloaded a texttospeech app in the bedroom.

I typed my response and hit play. "Thank you. I'm leaving." Time is a strange, mindbending thing. Hours ago, he was a screaming, fragile infant in my arms.

Now, he was a walking, talking little boy. He widened his eyes slightly, the rims turning red. Panic shattered his cool facade as his tiny fingers dug hard into my wrist. "No!

You owe me money. You can't leave!" His fake indifference vanished. I crouched down, bringing myself eyelevel with him. I very carefully and gently stroked his soft, dark hair.

I had seen the future. I knew the ending. In that timeline, Asher got the perfect mother. He grew up safe, completely shielded from my scheming family.

He didn't have to carry the burden of a mute, unlovable mom. I hit the play button again.

The flat, robotic voice echoed down the long hallway. "I will wire you the money for the phone." Asher glared at me. His grip on my hand tightened into a vise.

He shook his head wildly, gasping for air between heavy sobs. "Not that. You texted me. You asked me to send you two hundred bucks. I snuck out after school that day.

I waited for you on the overpass for so long. You lied to me. You never came." The fragmented, breathless confession hit me like a physical blow.

Silas's old text flashed in my mind—the scammer who conned a sixyearold out of his pocket money using my name. A sharp sting hit the back of my eyes.

I gently wiped the hot tears streaming down his soft cheeks. If Gia came home and caught this, it would be a disaster. She was the mother he chose. The one he loved.

I couldn't be the wedge that drove them apart. Maybe down the line, she and Silas would have their own kids. Maybe she'd play favorites.

But the firstborn always held a different kind of weight. I couldn't let my presence poison her view of Asher.

I refused to let her look at him and only see the ghost of his real mother. I had to get out of here before she walked through that front door. I pivoted to leave.

Asher lunged, wrapping his little arms tightly around my leg. I swallowed hard around the jagged lump in my throat. I looked down, utterly helpless against his stubborn clinging.

Then, a quiet rustling echoed from the shadows ahead. Chapter 4 As if sensing something, I looked up. My gaze locked onto a pair of pitchblack eyes.

At the far end of the sprawling hallway, a man stood at the top of the stairs. He looked like he'd been through hell and high water to get here.

Rainwater dripped off the hem of his dark trench coat, pooling on the hardwood. When he spoke, his voice was a gravelly, exhausted rasp. "…Wren.

How could you bully a kid?" Panic spiked in my chest. I hurriedly pried Asher's hands off my leg and looked behind Silas. Empty. Nobody else was there.

I exhaled a shaky breath, the tension draining out of my shoulders. No Gia. Asher instantly latched right back onto my thigh. He craned his neck, screaming at Silas. "Dad!

Hurry up and give Mom ten million dollars! If you give it to her, she won't leave!" I froze, my mind spinning. Silas's gaze shifted to me.

The intensity in those dark irises was overwhelming. I pressed my lips into a hard line and furiously threw my hands up to defend myself. I didn't.

I just wanted to borrow a thousand bucks. Asher doesn't know sign language and he can't read. He got it wrong. My fingers flew in a blur.

I was terrified he would twist the narrative again. Silas tracked the frantic movements of my hands. He clearly understood every word. A strange pause stretched between us.

He let out a low, humorless scoff, his tone dripping with something I couldn't decipher. "Asher doesn't know sign language?" The tiny hands grabbing my pant leg suddenly tightened.

Silas didn't press the issue. He completely bulldozed past the obvious lie, ordering the whining kid back to his bedroom.

Asher glared daggers at him. "Why?" "I'm the one who brought Mom back." "And Mom texted and called me!

She came back for me!" Even while throwing a tantrum, he couldn't resist showing off a little. Silas stared down at him.

A mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "If you hadn't secretly swapped my SIM card again, do you really think you'd be the one picking her up?" He reached out to peel Asher off me, but the kid was anchored like a boulder. "Fine.

Ask her yourself if she wants you to go back to your room." Two pairs of intense, identical eyes snapped to me. My scalp prickled.

I broke eye contact, staring hard at the floorboards, and signed hesitantly. …Maybe I should just leave? Silas turned his head.

Without skipping a beat, he deadpanned a blatant lie straight to his son's face. "Look.

She says it's getting late, and you need to be a good boy and go to sleep." "You're gaslighting me!

She clearly—" "A kid who doesn't understand sign language shouldn't just wildly guess," Silas cut him off, his voice dangerously smooth. The words snapped Asher's jaw shut.

He jutted out his bottom lip, staring at me with huge, tearfilled eyes. But he choked down whatever he was about to say. Silas caught the sheer stubbornness radiating from his son.

He stepped forward, clamped a hand around my wrist, and pulled me into the adjacent study. "This stubborn kid isn't going to let it go," he muttered, his tone clipped. "Can you wait in here for a second?" Without waiting for an answer, he dropped into a crouch in front of Asher.

He murmured something so low I couldn't catch the words. Asher instantly went rigid. He sneaked a hesitant, wideeyed glance at me.

Then, completely defeated, he let Silas take his hand and lead him down the hall. Dead silence crashed over the room. I dragged a breath into my lungs.

The heavy patter of rain drifted through the halfopen French doors of the study.

A strong gust of wind ripped through the gap, whipping the sheer curtains into a frenzy and sending loose papers scattering across the mahogany desk.

I rushed over and slammed the heavy glass doors shut, locking out the storm to save the scattered documents. I spun around. My elbow clipped a thick spine on the towering bookshelf.

A book tumbled to the rug. Something fluttered out from between the pages, landing right at the tips of my toes. A faded tendollar bill with a torn corner.

Chapter 5 The scent of old paper dragged me straight back to that stifling summer. Silas had already dropped the icy wall he built when we first met.

Somewhere along the line, he learned ASL completely behind my back. I vividly remembered the first time his long fingers stiffly shaped the signs for I got it.

His face remained lazily indifferent, but he still stubbornly insisted. "Waiting for you to scribble everything down wastes too much of my time." The corners of my eyes crinkled.

I raised my hands to sign Thank you.

The heavy oak doors suddenly burst open. "Who the hell does Silas think he is, walking around with that deadeyed glare?" a voice spat. "He's just an orphan.

He throws his family's weight around, doing whatever he wants. Otherwise, nobody would give a damn about him! Just wait until old man Winston croaks.

We'll see how arrogant he acts then!" Silas remained expressionless. But the second Winston's name hung in the air, the temperature around him plummeted.

A hard, dangerous line replaced his relaxed smirk. The guy storming into the room had zero clue we were hidden behind towering stacks of storage boxes in the corner.

That obnoxious, entitled drawl was unmistakable. Dalton. Tonight was Winston's grand birthday gala. Out in the ballroom, Dalton had cornered Silas for a toast.

Silas blatantly ignored the alcohol. He clinked a crystal glass of ice water against Dalton's flute and took a slow sip. Dalton had stormed off looking absolutely furious.

Now I knew why. But from what I saw, Silas hadn't touched a single drop of liquor all night. He even toasted Winston with water. He wasn't singling Dalton out.

He was just shutting out the entire room. Everyone in our circle knew Silas kept his distance. The childhood kidnapping had permanently wired him to stay cold and silent.

People adapted to it. Dalton was the only one throwing a tantrum over a bruised ego. He wasn't finished. He pivoted his rage straight toward me. "And that broken mute, Wren!

I try to ask her out, and she dodges me like I'm a walking plague. Does she really think clinging to the Zhou empire makes her untouchable?" Silas shifted in the shadows.

I felt the heavy weight of his gaze drop onto my face. A nervous knot tightened in my stomach. I snapped my head away, pressing my lips together so hard I tasted copper.

Vince, the lackey glued to Dalton's side, quickly tried to smooth things over. He started pitching petty revenge plots.

He suggested "accidentally" spilling red wine all over my dress.

Then he plotted to bribe Brett, a waiter, to spike Silas's water with a hefty dose of wasabi to make him choke and embarrass himself in front of the elite crowd.

Dalton finally ranted himself out and shoved his way out of the room. Only then did Silas saunter out from the shadows, his movements deadly slow.

He strolled straight into the catering kitchen. He started rummaging through the prep stations, looking somewhat unsatisfied. I didn't need to ask.

I knew exactly what he was hunting for. The wasabi. I slipped past him. Reaching into a dark corner of the vegetable crates, I grabbed a handful of peppers.

I caught his eye and signed. No wasabi. These are insanely spicy. Want to use these to make it spicy instead? Silas dropped his gaze to me.

He reached out, his warm fingers brushing mine as he took the peppers. "Mm," he hummed, his voice a low, lazy rumble. He flagged down two waiters.

After murmuring a few sharp instructions to Brett and the other staff, he grabbed my hand and led me up to the sweeping secondfloor balcony.

We leaned over the marble railing, securing frontrow seats to the most lively scene of the night. Dalton clinked glasses with the older investors. He took a large gulp.

A split second later, he spat the liquid out, hacking and gasping for air. He stumbled backward, crashing straight into a towering crystal champagne pyramid. Glass shattered.

Expensive champagne spilled all over him. Conrad, the furious family elder, stood there mortified.

He forced out an apology to the crowd before giving Dalton a harsh public scolding. Drenched, completely humiliated, and hacking up his lungs, Dalton suddenly snapped his head up.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto us. He realized we had watched the entire trainwreck from the balcony. Silas tilted his head. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

He lifted his crystal glass of ice water, offering Dalton a mocking toast from above.

He looked down at him and deliberately mouthed every single syllable. "That is doing whatever I want." Chapter 6 The chaotic stunt we pulled downstairs didn't slip past Winston's sharp eyes.

Silas could afford to act reckless. I couldn't. Maybe Winston pulled some strings behind the scenes.

Meredith, the mother who had dumped me at the estate for years, did the unthinkable. She ordered me to go home with her tonight. The gala was winding down.

I hesitated, my fingers trembling slightly as I signed an apology to Silas. I'm sorry. I don't think I can keep you company here anymore.

Meredith's face had been a storm cloud all night. I figured Winston was finally kicking me to the curb. Silas saw right through the family politics.

He brushed it off with brutal indifference. "If you don't want to go back, don't. Nobody is kicking you out." My shoulders stayed slumped.

He grabbed my wrist and dragged me straight into the security room, pulling up the feeds from the kitchen and the hallway. That's when it hit me.

The footage of our little sabotage operation had already been wiped bare. He downloaded the clip of Dalton spitting venom and plotting his pathetic revenge onto a flash drive.

He held it out, gesturing for my hand. "Next time he gets in your face, shove this down his throat. You're staying with me until ten. Trust me.

Even if your family's car leaves, not a single soul in this house will dare lay a finger on you tonight." Silas sat with me on the rooftop until ten, letting the night bugs eat us alive.

I watched my family's black town car pull out of the driveway. Before slipping into the backseat, Meredith actually looked up at the balcony.

She flashed me a smile—soft, almost proud. I felt completely overwhelmed by the unexpected favor. A heavy, undeniable gratitude settled in my chest for Silas.

Something shifted between us, the invisible lines blurring. Sure, helping me vent my anger was just an afterthought for him. But he handled my mess.

He sat on a concrete roof in the dark just to keep me safe. That was something only a friend would do. I couldn't hold back anymore. My hands moved quickly in the dark.

Are we friends now? "No." Was it really that impossible to break through Silas's walls? A dull ache pinched my chest, but it didn't crush me. Silas was wired to be untouchable.

If I failed this time, I just needed to try harder tomorrow. Then, his low, slow drawl sliced through the night air. "It's tighter than that.

We're unbreakable accomplices." My eyes widened. I stared at his profile in a daze. Somehow, the bond he described felt infinitely heavier than just being friends.

Out of nowhere, his voice drifted into the wind. "Do you have any cash on you?" I dug through my pockets for what felt like forever.

All I pulled out was a crumpled, faded tendollar bill with a torn corner. Silas took it without a second of hesitation.

His shadow, stretched long and sharp by the moonlight, tilted over me. "Now, I owe you ten bucks. You own my debt. So, next time you're backed into a corner.

Next time you're forced to do something you hate, or look at someone who makes you sick—you come collect your debt from me.

Understood?" Seeing me zone out, shockingly, Silas didn't lose his temper.

He leaned in, his voice thick with a strange, dark patience. "Did you memorize that?" I nodded frantically, my hands signing a desperate promise. I swear.

I will never forget it for the rest of my life. Maybe it was the way he drilled that absolute command into my head over and over again in the years that followed.

I went from tiptoeing around him to actively tracking Silas down, demanding he pay his "debts" over the smallest inconveniences.

When I ran into trouble, I stopped bearing it all alone in silence. He hardwired me to run to him. It became a pure, unavoidable reflex.

So much so, that the moment the fire was swallowing me alive, and I opened my eyes to realize I had been dragged six years into the future— Chapter 7 Standing on the swarming street, the world had morphed into an alien landscape.

My mind went white. Blind panic seized me. Even as the raw terror choked me, crawling back to Meredith and my toxic family never crossed my mind. Pure survival instinct took over.

I grabbed Haley's phone and typed a message to Silas. It's Wren. My thumb smashed the send button without a microsecond of hesitation. …Can you come pick me up?

The crisp pages of the heavy book had completely ironed out the tendollar bill's wrinkles. The torn corner remained exactly the same. I never imagined Silas would actually keep it.

The heavy study door clicked open. I whipped my head around. Silas stood in the frame. He had dumped Asher in his bedroom and stalked back in under two minutes.

His dark gaze dropped straight to the faded bill pinched between my fingers. "You cashing in your debt now?" I bypassed his trap completely. My hands moved in quick, sharp gestures.

Do I still legally exist? "Yeah," Silas rasped. "Your family tried to get you declared legally dead. I bulldozed it.

Forced the state to list you as a missing person." Oxygen rushed back into my lungs. I wasn't a ghost in the system.

I could still legally get a job before my pathetic bank account bled dry. I lifted the torn bill, holding it up like a shield between us. I'm collecting my debt.

Silas tilted his head, giving me the floor. Give me an umbrella. A severe storm raged outside the glass. I traded my absolute leverage for a simple umbrella.

Silas's jaw tightened. "Just that?" I nodded. Just that. I meticulously folded the frayed paper in half, aiming for my pocket. This was it. The final transaction.

The image of Gia's flawless face on that towering billboard flashed behind my eyes. It felt like staring at a glittering, untouchable dream. They had their perfect reality.

The vicious female antagonist of their story officially bowed out. I just needed to take back the cash, and Silas and I would permanently sever the cord. But Silas's hand shot out.

His long fingers effortlessly snatched the folded bill right out of my grip.

He slid it directly between the pages of the thick book, snapped the cover shut, and shoved it onto the highest shelf. My mind went blank.

I stared at him, my fingers flying. …Why did you take my money? Silas dropped his heavy gaze on me, completely unapologetic. "I owed you a debt. You demanded an umbrella as payment.

That makes the ten bucks mine." He took a slow step forward. "Wren, taking both the umbrella and the cash?

Isn't that a little too greedy?" His twisted logic locked my brain in a vise. He completely rigged the rules. He held the ultimate monopoly over this debt.

If I let this slide, our messy entanglement would never sever. Feeling tricked, I bit down on my lower lip, surged onto my tiptoes, and threw my hand up to snatch the book back.

Then give me the cash back! I don't want the umbrella! I barely grazed the spine.

Silas's large, scorching palm slammed down over my knuckles, pinning my hand flush against the rough leather cover. My heel slipped on the rug. Gravity yanked me backward.

Silas's other arm shot out. His thick forearm banded around my waist, yanking me flush against his solid chest. Our eyes met, our distance close at hand.

I felt his erratic pulse hammering against my ribs. The sharp scent of rain and cedar swallowed me alive. His heavy gaze dropped to my mouth. A muscle ticked in his hard jaw.

He swallowed.

The rough, wet scrape of sound vibrated straight through the heavy silence. "Then consider it me borrowing ten bucks from you again." His voice was a raw, gravelly scrape, vibrating straight into my bones. "This time, what do you want me to do?" His calloused thumb slowly stroked the erratic pulse at my wrist, the friction sending intense sparks shooting up my arm. "Anything," he murmured, his tone dripping with a dark, calculated obsession. "Even if you demand to move into my house permanently." Chapter 8