My Useless Mute Beta Wife Is A Big Shot!

The mansion’s private bar holds its breath around me.

No one else. Just the bottles. Just the shadows. Just the weight of a day I never wanted—pressing down on my chest like stones stacked one by one.

The expensive liquors rest on their shelves like sleeping soldiers—untouched, waiting, gleaming beneath dim golden light that spills from fixtures shaped like flowers. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Whiskey from mountains I’ve never climbed. Bourbon from rivers I’ve never crossed. Cognac aged longer than I’ve been alive. Countries I’ll never visit—trapped in glass and silence.

Their scent lingers in the air. Warm. Wooden. Familiar. The only perfume that’s ever felt like home.

I lean back into the couch. Let it take my weight. The leather shifts softly beneath me—quiet, expensive, yielding.

The wine shimmers in my crystal glass. Dark red. Almost black. Like blood held up to candlelight in a room where no one prays.

My fingers trace the thin curve of the glass—back and forth, back and forth. A rhythm I don’t control. Don’t want. Can’t stop.

My shirt hangs open at the collar, buttons abandoned halfway down my chest. The perfect groom outfit—disassembled. Tie gone. I don’t remember where I threw it.

Jacket abandoned on a chair I don’t remember passing.

Shoes by the door—kicked off and forgotten.

After a long performance.

Smiling until my cheeks ached. Receiving congratulations from strangers who whispered my name like they knew me.

Standing beside him while cameras flashed—fingers brushing my shoulders.

Posing for photographs I’ll never look at—frames that will gather dust in rooms I’ll never enter.

And...

My thoughts stop.

Midway. Mid-breath. Mid-word I never spoke.

The memory rises without permission—uninvited, unwanted, unforgettable.

His lips beneath my thumb.

The way our faces almost touched—close enough that if I breathed deeper, if my thumb weren’t there, we would have become something I couldn’t take back.

The way our breaths tangled—mine and his—becoming something shared. Something that didn’t belong to either of us anymore.

The way his eyes locked on mine—close, closer, closest—and didn’t let go.

His gaze—different.

Not soft. Not patient. Not the polite smile he wears like armor against a world that doesn’t understand him.

Something else.

What did it mean?

My head settles against the cushion. My eyes close against the golden light that suddenly feels too bright.

"Relax, Ellis." My voice is a whisper. A prayer to no one.

"Don’t think so much."

I take a deep breath. Let it fill my lungs. Let it settle somewhere deep—somewhere the anger doesn’t reach.

Just this silence.

Just this peace.

Just—

The couch dips beside me.

The leather shifts, cushions compressing under weight that wasn’t there a moment ago.

Fingers brush my hair back from my temple—soft, familiar, uninvited. The touch lingers a moment too long, like whoever it is wants to be recognized. Wants to be known.

I don’t open my eyes.

I don’t need to.

My voice comes out flat. Cold. Tired in ways I can’t explain.

"Sum. Stop."

His voice arrives—surprised, almost shocked, touched with something like wonder he can’t quite hide.

"Wow." A pause. "How did you know it was me?"

I open my eyes, turning my head just enough to look at him without moving the rest of my body—watching him through half-closed lids.

"No one else dares to do this." The words come out slower than I intended.

"Only you."

He leans back on the couch, spreading his arms along the cushions like he owns the place. His voice shifts—proud now, almost preening, like a cat that’s been admired.

"Now I feel special."

I sip my wine, letting the bitterness coat my tongue, letting it burn on the way down.

"I thought you were gone."

"Yeah, I was going." He pours himself a glass—the wine dark, heavy, almost purple in this light.

"But Everic stopped me. We talked about some business."

He sips, swallows, sets the glass down. Then—

"Ellis."

A pause.

"I’m curious about something."

My eyes stay on the wine. The way the light moves through it—like something alive. The way it stains the crystal, red and stubborn, like it doesn’t want to let go.

"What."

He drains the glass in one long swallow, his throat moving as he sets it down with a decisive clink that echoes through the silence.

"Did you really kiss him?"

I stay silent for a moment, letting the question hang between us—heavy, sharp, dangerous, like a blade balanced on a thread.

Then—

"What do you think?"

Sum studies me. His eyes narrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips—the same one he’s worn since we were children. The one that says I see through you.

"It’s difficult to believe."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

"Ellis Roselle. Who’s slept with countless omegas but never given his first kiss to anyone."

He tilts his head, the smirk deepening.

"And now he gives it—easily—to a beta?"

A pause. His voice drops.

"I don’t believe it."

He leans back, crossing his arms.

"You can fool everyone out there—my parents, your parents, the servants, the photographers, the guests who don’t know you."

He holds my gaze.

"But not me."

I stay silent, sipping my wine, letting the burn answer for me.

Sum leans closer, his voice dropping—conspiratorial, curious, almost hungry. Like he’s asking for a secret he already knows I won’t give.

"But one thing is true."

His eyes drift—upward, toward nothing in particular, toward the memory of golden light and white roses and a figure walking through petals.

"He’s damn beautiful." A breath. "The whole event—everyone’s eyes were on him. Mine too."

A pause.

"I couldn’t look away."

He shakes his head slowly, like he’s still trying to understand what he saw.

"I can’t believe he’s a beta." His voice softens. "He looks... like a rare omega."

A pause.

"Those pink lips." Another pause.

"Soft."

He looks at me—directly. Without blinking.

"Kissing him..." He weighs the words before letting them fall. "Probably worth it. If I were in your place, I wouldn’t have waited. The officiant wouldn’t even finish speaking before I kissed him."

A beat.

"How did you control yourself, Ellis?"

My gaze shifts to him—cold, flat, empty of everything I feel.

"Then marry him."

Sum blinks.

"What?"

"When I divorce him." My voice doesn’t change. Doesn’t rise. Doesn’t fall.

"Marry him."

Sum goes still. For a moment—just a moment—he doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Just stares at me like I’ve spoken a language he doesn’t understand.

Then he pats my shoulder—hard, almost a slap.

"Mr. Charming." He stands, straightening his coat. "Your wedding ended two hours ago, and you’re already talking about divorce?"

He shakes his head, smiling—but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

"Just calm down."

I don’t look at him. I just sip my wine, letting the silence speak for me.

He walks toward the door, his footsteps soft on the carpet—almost silent, like he’s trying not to disturb something.

"Now go to your room." His voice drifts back to me.

"Don’t keep your bride waiting. It’s already late."

I don’t answer.

He glances back just before the door, his face half in shadow, half in golden light.

"And don’t be stubborn. Go to your room." A pause. "Uncle Elias doesn’t seem to be in a good mood."

Another pause.

"Good night."

The door closes behind him.

A soft click.

Silence rushes back in—thick, heavy, suffocating.

I sit alone in the dim golden light. The wine half-gone in my glass. The memory still burning beneath my skin—something I can’t extinguish.

His lips beneath my thumb. The warmth of his breath against my skin. The way his eyes watched me—close, closer, closest—and didn’t look away. That gaze. Something I couldn’t name.

My fingers tighten around the glass—until it cracks.

Shatters.

Wine spills over my hand. Dark red. Mixing with my blood.

I don’t move.

The night stretches ahead of me—dark, empty, full of rooms I don’t want to enter.

Somewhere in this mansion, he’s waiting.

Silas Stoneheart.