Obsessed with His Unwanted Mute Bride

"Stop."

Beverly moved her hands in the dark, making the word with sign language. Her fingers shook as she tried to tell him to stop, but Diro couldn't see her signs. Or maybe he could see them and just didn't care.

His body pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. Three years. Three whole years of this, and her heart still beat fast with fear every time he touched her with those cold hands.

The expensive silk sheets felt rough against her skin. She lived in this fancy house, married to one of the most powerful men in the city, but she was dying inside little by little.

"If you don't want this, then talk," Diro said in a mean voice. "Open your mouth and scream. Tell me you don't want it."

His words hurt worse than a slap. Beverly's chest got tight and she couldn't breathe properly. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew she couldn't speak, couldn't scream, couldn't say no out loud. Her hands moved quickly in the dark, signing desperately.

Please, Diro. Please stop.

But he wasn't looking. He never looked at her signs.

You're doing this because you know I can't talk,she thought angrily. You know I'm mute, so you just do whatever you want. When will you treat me like your wife instead of like a toy you can break?

Suddenly she remembered when they were younger. Diro was fifteen and had bloody knuckles from fighting Tommy Richardson, who had pushed Beverly in the mud and called her "the freak who can't talk." Back then, Diro had protected her.

"Nobody touches her," teenage Diro had said angrily. "Nobody."

Where was that boy now? Where was the man who used to look at her like she was special?

He was gone. That Diro died on their wedding day three years ago when this cold stranger said words that broke her heart.

"Don't fall in love with me," he had said without any feeling. "I'm only marrying you because my grandfather felt sorry for you. If not for that, I wouldn't even touch you. I don't care about you. You know I don't love you, so don't make the mistake of loving me back. I'm just doing this because a dead man wanted me to."

But it was too late. She already loved him then, and she still loved him now.

Beverly turned away from him, curling up like a hurt animal. Moving her body away was the only way she could say no. She felt him stop and get frustrated.

"Fine," he said with disgust. "Just lie there like you're dead. Like a corpse."

Those words hurt more than if he had hit her. Beverly made a small, broken sound. Something inside her chest cracked - not broke completely, because there wasn't much left to break.

He rolled off her roughly, making the bed shake. Beverly heard him slam the bathroom door so hard the whole room shook. Only then did she let herself cry, quiet tears that soaked into her pillow.

The shower turned on. And Beverly lay there staring at the ceiling, wondering how much more of herself she could lose.

Morning came and felt like punishment.

Beverly got out of bed slowly. Her body hurt in ways that weren't just physical. She moved like a ghost through their fancy bedroom. The morning sunlight coming through the windows felt wrong, too bright for how dark she felt inside.

That's when she saw it.

Diro's phone was on his nightstand, showing a message that made her feel sick.

"Can't believe you went home to that mute bitch after our sweet date last night. When are you going to love me like you always say you do? When are you going to start showing it? - F"

The phone almost slipped from Beverly's hands. She caught it just in time, but the damage was done. Those words burned into her mind.

Mute bitch.

That's what Faye called her. That's what the woman sleeping with her husband thought of her. And Diro probably laughed when she said it.

Beverly's eyes filled with tears. The room seemed to spin. The last bit of hope she had been holding onto finally died.

The bathroom door opened.

Beverly quickly put on the blank face she had learned to wear over three years of this life. Diro came out with steam around him, wearing only a towel. He was handsome - had always been handsome - and that somehow made everything hurt worse.

His dark eyes got narrow when he saw her near his phone.

"Did you see anything on my phone?"

The question hung in the air. Beverly shook her head, lying easily. She had become good at hiding the pain he caused her every day.

"Good." But he didn't sound like he believed her. "Go make breakfast. Now."

Beverly nodded and ran away, desperate to get away from him. Behind her, she heard him grab his phone and delete the message.

In the kitchen, Beverly's hands shook as she reached for a pan. Tears came suddenly, hot and fast. Through the tears, she couldn't see properly.

Her hand touched the hot stove and pain shot through her palm. A sound came from her throat - raw and barely human. The pan crashed to the floor.

Footsteps ran toward the kitchen.

"What the hell-" can't you be careful for once?"

Beverly stared at him through her tears, holding her burned hand against her chest. Even her pain was wrong in his eyes.

He grabbed her wrist roughly and dragged her to get medical supplies. He cleaned her burn like she was just an object, not caring if he hurt her. Beverly watched his face, looking for any sign of the boy who used to take care of her when she got hurt.

Nothing. There was nothing there but coldness.

"This better heal fast," he said, wrapping her hand. "Tomorrow is my mother's birthday, and I don't want you looking like some hurt animal. Make sure you look good. When I get back tonight, we're going to the party."

He let go of her hand and walked away, leaving her standing in the kitchen with her bandaged hand and broken heart.

Beverly looked at the medical tape around her hand and wondered if this was what dying felt like - not all at once, but slowly, piece by piece, until nothing was left.

Tomorrow's party felt like something terrible waiting for her. More shame. More pain. More proof that in the Carter family, she was nothing but a pretty ghost.

The silence pressed around her, and for the first time in three years, Beverly wondered if maybe it was time to stop hoping for something good that would never come.

"Diro, sweetheart! Welcome!"

Irene Carter's voice rang out across the fancy entrance hall, sounding sweet but with something sharp underneath. She walked toward them in expensive perfume and a silk dress, reaching out to hug her son with a big smile.

"You look wonderful," she said, hugging Diro for a long time while completely ignoring Beverly. "My handsome boy."

Then her cold gray eyes looked at Beverly, and the room suddenly felt freezing cold.

"And what's this?" Irene's voice turned sour. "You brought the mute with you."

Beverly's whole body started shaking badly. Not just a little trembling, but violent shaking that started deep inside and spread everywhere. Her face went white and her eyes filled with terror.

Somewhere nearby, a baby started crying - loud, scared wails that cut through the air. Riko's baby could sense Beverly's fear and started screaming because of it.

"Look at you," Irene said with disgust, walking around Beverly like a hunter circling prey. "Shaking like a scared animal. Pathetic. Do you know what today is, you useless thing? It's MY birthday. MY special day. And here you are, making everything about your stupid drama."

The baby cried louder, getting more upset because of Beverly's obvious terror.

"Sit down," Irene snapped angrily. "You're making the baby cry with all that shaking. Look what you've done - you're scaring an innocent child. Sit down before you fall over and embarrass us all."

"I don't know why you act like some kind of ghost," Irene continued, her words cutting into Beverly like knives. "Walking around here with those empty eyes and that sad victim look. This is my big day, and I will NOT let you ruin it. Don't embarrass me today. Don't give me a reason to get angry. Just sit there, keep quiet - oh wait, you can't talk anyway - and try to blend in with the furniture where you belong."

Beverly stumbled to the nearest chair, her legs barely holding her up. The silk cushion felt cold against her skin. The baby's cries started to quiet down as she moved away, but the damage was done. Everyone already saw her as a problem from the moment she walked in. Around them, the party continued - glasses clinking, high heels clicking on the marble floor, and fancy laughter filling the air. But Beverly felt like she was drowning in all the noise and cruelty.

"Beverly!"

The voice made her jump. Riko Carter, Diro's younger sister, appeared next to her chair with the same mean smile that ran in their family. She was beautiful in the same sharp way as her mother, all angles and attitude.

"How are you doing, sister-in-law?" Riko's voice was sweet but nasty underneath. "You look... well, you look exactly the same as always. Quiet and sad."

Beverly managed a weak nod, holding her hands tightly in her lap to stop them from shaking.

"Speaking of looking the same," Riko continued, sitting in the chair next to her and pretending to be concerned, "when are you going to give my brother a child? I mean, you've been married for three years now. Three whole years, Beverly. Most women would have had a baby by now. What's taking so long?"

The words hit Beverly like punches. Her mind flew back to a memory so painful it felt like drowning.

Two months ago. The bathroom floor, cold against her knees. The pregnancy test in her shaking hands, two pink lines that had made her heart fill with hope.

She had been so careful when she told Irene the news. She thought - God, she had been so stupid - she thought having a grandchild might make the woman nicer.

"Please," Beverly had signed with her hands moving quickly as Irene's face filled with anger. "Please, I want to have Diro's baby."

The slap came from nowhere, splitting her lip and making her fall back.

"One mute is enough in this family," Irene had said with hate in her voice. "We don't need another broken child ruining our family line. You will end this pregnancy, and you will never NEVER try this again."

Beverly had tried to run, tried to protect the tiny life growing inside her. But Irene had grabbed her wrist with fingers like steel.

"You will take these pills every day," Irene had said angrily, shoving a bottle of birth control pills into Beverly's hands. "And if you ever get pregnant again, I will make sure you disappear. Do you understand me, you worthless thing?"

The abortion had been a nightmare of cold rooms and metal tools. Beverly had cried silently as they took away her baby - Diro's baby, the only thing that might have been truly hers in this house of horrors.

"Beverly?" Riko's voice brought her back to the present. "I asked you a question. When are you going to give us an heir?"

Beverly's hands moved in sign language, trying to explain that she wanted children, that she had tried.

"Enough!"

Irene's voice cut through the room like a knife. She appeared next to them, her face twisted with anger, her gray eyes blazing.

"Enough of this questioning, Riko. I will not have this discussion at my party."

"But Mother," Riko argued, "I was just asking about-"

"I said enough!" Irene's voice got louder and dangerous. Several people nearby turned to stare. "I don't want to talk about mute children. I don't want another cursed child in this family. This one" - she pointed at Beverly with disgust - "is already more than enough of a problem. The last thing we need is more broken children."

Beverly's world spun. The words hit her like acid, burning through her chest and settling in her stomach like poison. Around them, the party guests had gone quiet, their conversations stopping as they turned to watch.

"I will not let the Carter family line be ruined any more," Irene continued, her voice carrying across the room like a death sentence. "One mute is a tragedy. Two would be a disaster. So no, Riko, there will be no children. Not from her. Not ever."

Beverly's hands flew to her mouth, trying to hold back the sob that wanted to escape. The memory of her lost baby, the child Irene had forced her to abort, cut through her like a blade.

The silence in the room was complete. Dozens of eyes stared at Beverly, some with pity, others with curiosity, all of them watching her complete humiliation.

Irene smiled, happy with the pain she had caused.

"Now," she said, smoothing her silk dress, "let's get back to celebrating, shall we? After all, it is my birthday."

Beverly sat frozen in her chair, her whole body numb with shock and pain. The memory of her lost child felt like an open wound, and Irene's words had just poured salt right into it.

The party continued around her, but Beverly was drowning in her own pain, the memory of her aborted baby's heartbeat haunting her like a ghost that would never leave her alone.

"We need to leave."

Diro's voice cut through the tension as he reached for Beverly's arm. "We have somewhere to go."

Riko looked up from calming her crying baby, looking confused. "But you just got here, brother. Mother's been planning this party for weeks-"

"The Kent crime family is moving drugs through our docks," Diro interrupted, his voice getting that dangerous tone that made everyone freeze. "Business doesn't wait for birthday parties."

Beverly felt his fingers dig into her arm as he pulled her toward the door. She didn't fight back - she never did anymore. The chance to escape, even for a little while, was too precious to argue with.

"Let's go," he said without saying goodbye to anyone as he dragged her through the fancy entrance hall. "I'll drop you at work."

The restaurant. Beverly's one safe place in this awful world, the only place where she could pretend to be normal for a few hours. She had begged him for months to let her work there, desperate to talk to people outside the toxic Carter house.

The car ride started quiet, but Beverly should have known it wouldn't stay that way.

"About what my mother said," Diro's voice sounded casual as he drove through traffic. "About children."

Beverly's whole body got tense. Her hands twisted in her lap, something she did when she was nervous.

"She made it clear she doesn't want another mute," Beverly signed, her hand movements sharp with pain. "Let's not upset her."

Diro's jaw got tight. "That last time we... I didn't use protection."

The memory hit Beverly like a slap - his hands on her, taking what he wanted without caring about her feelings. She forced herself to stay calm as she signed back.

"I took Plan B. And my regular pills, like always."

The car jerked as Diro gripped the steering wheel tighter. "So you really don't want my children." His voice sounded hurt, but she knew better. "You would rather poison yourself than have my baby." huh?

Beverly stared at him in shock. How could he not remember? How could he forget that it was his own mother who forced those pills on her, who made her end the pregnancy she had wanted so badly?

"And another thing," Diro continued, his voice getting harder. "You're not working at that restaurant anymore. I don't want you there."

Beverly's heart sank. The restaurant was her lifeline, her only connection to a world outside the Carter nightmare.

"And stop wearing makeup," he added, looking at her in the rearview mirror. "It makes you look cheap. Ugly. I don't like my women painted up like prostitutes."

Beverly's hand went to her lips, where she had carefully put on lip gloss. The small act of making herself pretty had felt like fighting back, like taking back some tiny piece of herself.

But even as he spoke, Beverly thought about Faye. Faye with her perfect makeup, her bright red lips, her dark eye makeup that never seemed to bother Diro. Why was it only Beverly who had to look like a ghost?

"You don't need that job anyway," Diro was saying. "I can take care of you without you showing yourself off to strangers."

Beverly reached up with shaking fingers and wiped away the lip gloss, the action feeling like giving up. Another piece of herself erased to make him happy.

"We're going home," Diro announced, already changing lanes to turn around.

But before he could turn, a familiar voice called out across the parking lot.

"Hey Diro, sweetheart!"

Beverly's blood turned cold. Through the windshield, she watched Faye walk toward their car, swaying her hips on purpose. She looked amazing in a tight red dress, her makeup perfect, her smile mean.

"Faye?" Diro's voice sounded surprised and pleased. "What are you doing here?"

"It's your mother's birthday, darling," Faye said sweetly, leaning against the car door. "I'm a guest too. I just came out for some fresh air and saw your car."

Her eyes looked at Beverly like a snake about to strike. "I should have known you would have your little mute bitch in here with you."

"Yes," Diro replied without hesitation.

That one word hit Beverly like a punch. He didn't defend her. Didn't tell Faye she was wrong. Just agreed with casual indifference, like Beverly's feelings didn't matter.

Beverly's eyes filled with tears, but she forced herself to sit perfectly still. She wouldn't break. Not here. Not in front of them. She had learned to swallow her tears, to hold in her pain until it became part of her.

"You know what?" Diro's voice suddenly changed, becoming almost happy. "Beverly, get out."

Beverly blinked, sure she had heard wrong. Her hands moved in confused sign language. "What?"

"Get out. Go to work. I thought you always wanted to go to work?" His smile was cruel and mocking. "I'm changing my mind. Get out and go."

Beverly's heart beat fast. Something was wrong. Diro never changed his mind, never gave her what she wanted without making her pay for it somehow. But the restaurant was her safe place, and she desperately wanted to escape.

She reached for the door handle with shaking fingers, opened it, and started to step out onto the parking lot.

That's when she saw it - Faye's expensive high heel, positioned perfectly in her path like a hidden trap.

Time seemed to slow down. Beverly's foot caught on Faye's leg that was placed there on purpose, and she started to fall forward. The pavement rushed up to meet her, hard and unforgiving. She could already feel the impact, could already taste the blood that would come from split lips and scraped hands.

But in that moment between standing and falling, between safety and humiliation, Beverly's world hung in perfect, terrifying balance.