The Weight of Silence

POV: Selena Carter

“You’re not a shadow, Selena.”

Leonard’s words echoed long after he left the study.

Selena sat curled up on the window seat, the city sprawled beneath her like a never-ending maze of glass and ambition. The book in her lap lay forgotten, its pages blurred by thoughts spinning too fast to catch.

She wasn’t sure if he meant it as comfort. Or strategy. But the weight of those six words… it lingered.

In a world where her presence was often considered ornamental, being seen—even briefly—by Leonard Knight meant more than she wanted to admit.

The next morning arrived far too early.

Selena pulled her hair into a loose twist, brushing away the softness that made her look too approachable. Approachability was vulnerability. And right now, she needed steel.

She stepped into the kitchen and found a pot of fresh coffee already brewing. No staff around. Just a small post-it on the counter.

Thought you might need this. —L

She stared at the note for a second longer than necessary.

No signature. Just that sharp, slanted L. It wasn’t much. Barely a gesture. But it was something.

She folded it and slipped it into the pocket of her coat without thinking.

Later that afternoon, Selena found herself seated across from Natalie Rhodes, director of the Velmont Arts & Culture Foundation—a woman who could make or break social influence in this city.

Natalie was in her late forties, stylish, with sharp features softened only by her affection for modern art and chamomile tea. She’d called this meeting after seeing Selena’s appearance at the charity gala.

“I’ll be blunt, Mrs. Knight,” she said, folding her hands. “You’re gaining attention. That can be a weapon—or a leash. Depending on how you handle it.”

Selena didn’t flinch. “I’d prefer a sword, if I get the choice.”

Natalie’s lips twitched. “Good answer. I hear you’re interested in the annual Community Arts Benefit?”

“I am,” Selena said. “Not just as a donor. I want to curate one of the installations—something that reflects the new creatives rising in Velmont. The ones not born with names like Carter or Knight.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow. “You’re not just here to play wife.”

“No,” Selena said clearly. “I’m not.”

After a pause, Natalie smiled. “Alright then. Let’s make some waves.”

That evening, Selena returned to the penthouse later than usual, shoulders aching, feet sore, but her heart unexpectedly light.

Leonard was seated in the living room, laptop open, sleeves rolled up. He looked up when she entered, not surprised to see her, but curious.

“You were out late,” he said.

She slid her coat off and draped it over a chair. “I met with Natalie Rhodes.”

His brows lifted slightly. “The Art Foundation?”

“I’m curating an exhibit for the benefit next month.”

A pause.

“That’s… ambitious.”

She gave him a look. “Is that your polite way of saying I’m overstepping?”

He shook his head. “It’s my way of saying people will be watching.”

“They already are,” she said, voice calm. “So I might as well give them something to talk about.”

Leonard stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”

Selena blinked. “That’s it?”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. A warning? A disapproving sigh?”

He leaned back, fingers steepled. “You’ve proven you can handle whispers. Let’s see if you can handle the spotlight.”

Her lips parted in surprise. She almost laughed. “That was… oddly motivational.”

“I’m capable of surprises.”

She gave a small smile. “Noted.”

There was a moment of quiet between them. Comfortable, not tense.

Selena glanced at the couch beside him, then at her heels. “Mind if I sit?”

He gestured without a word.

She sank into the seat, sighing softly. Her head tilted back against the cushion, eyes fluttering closed.

“Long day?” he asked, surprising her again.

She cracked one eye open. “Are you making small talk, Mr. Knight?”

“I’m experimenting.”

That earned a laugh.

They didn’t say anything for a while. Just sat in the gentle quiet of a home that didn’t quite feel like one yet—but maybe could.

Eventually, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Leonard looked over. “For what?”

“For the coffee. And the note. And… for not treating me like glass.”

He said nothing. But his expression shifted—barely noticeable to anyone else, but she caught it.

Recognition. Maybe even… respect.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***