My Useless Mute Beta Wife Is A Big Shot!

The club VIP room breathes with a pulse of its own—low, thrumming, relentless. The music coils through the dim space like something alive, bass vibrating through everything. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and something sweeter beneath it, something that clings to the back of the throat.

I sit on the couch, leaning back, trying to let the noise wash over me, to let it carry me away from myself.

But it doesn’t work.

Sum sits across from me, his hair still a little messy from his nap, his hands draped lazily over the back of the couch. A teasing smile curls at the corner of his lips, playful, unbothered, the way he always is when he’s trying to pull me out of myself.

"Mr. Charming..." He tilts his head, studying me with those sharp, knowing eyes. "What’s wrong?"

I look at him, unimpressed.

"Nothing."

His smirk widens.

"You look like someone who’s missing someone."

"Shut up."

He chuckles under his breath before leaning forward to reach for the bottle of whiskey on the table. His movements are unhurried, deliberate. He pours two glasses, the amber liquid catching the dim light like liquid gold, alive and shifting. He slides one toward me, the glass gliding across the polished table until it stops in front of me, a perfect offering.

"Let’s drink and forget everything."

I take the glass and lift it to my lips. The whiskey burns my throat—a familiar fire, welcome in its constancy.

Sum downs his in one smooth gulp, sets the glass down with a soft click, and pours himself another. His brows lift with curiosity, the kind of look that always precedes questions I don’t want to answer.

"Hey, Ellis." He pauses, letting the silence settle. "I forgot to ask."

I take another sip, letting the whiskey spread warm through my chest.

"What."

He pauses, the glass hovering just before his lips, his eyes glinting over the rim.

"You never told me why you and Silas fought. What exactly happened to make you this angry?"

I don’t answer. I swirl the whiskey in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light as it moves in slow, hypnotic circles. The motion is soothing, empty—a way to keep my mind from lingering on his words.

Silence settles between us, heavy, sharp, unwanted. Sum’s eyes remain fixed on me, waiting. He doesn’t push. He knows better than that.

But his patience is its own kind of pressure.

"Ellis." His voice softens, the playfulness fading into something quieter. "Tell me. Did he cheat on you?"

I stare into the whiskey. The word hangs there, foreign and wrong.

Cheat on me?

Sum drains his glass again and sets it down with more weight this time, the sound dull and final.

"No..." He shakes his head slowly, as though answering his own question. "I don’t think Silas would do that. He’s too innocent. And his eyes—they’re loyal. Patient."

A flicker of something passes across his face. "Even when you treat him badly."

He tilts his head, studying me with that familiar, penetrating gaze.

"Ellis... are you even listening to me?" A note of quiet frustration slips into his voice. "Tell me what happened."

I drink the whiskey in one long swallow. The burn spreads through my chest, hot and sharp, and I set the glass down harder than I mean to. The sound cuts through the music for just a moment—sharp, final. Heat rises in my chest, the words I don’t want to say pressing against my teeth.

My voice comes out cold, flat, a door slammed shut before anyone can step through.

"Sum. I told you. I don’t want to talk about it."

Sum doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t speak. He just stares at me, his eyes searching, his silence louder than any words.

His mind whispers,

{What’s going on with him? Why is he being so stubborn? Did they really have that big of a fight?}

I pour myself another glass of whiskey and drink it down in anger. The liquor slides through me, hot and sharp, feeding the fire already raging inside me—a fire I can’t seem to extinguish no matter how much I drink.

"Ellis, I was—"

Before he can finish, a voice cuts through the music—soft, honeyed.

"Ellis..."

I turn.

A boy stands there. A pink-silver shirt hugs his slender frame. Delicate features. A smile that curves too easily, too knowingly.

An Omega.

His presence is like a ripple across still water—smooth, deliberate. He walks toward me with light, unhurried steps, as though he already belongs in my space.

"What a beautiful night." His voice is syrup and silk. "We meet again."

Sum’s gaze shifts to him, then to me, his expression turning curious, guarded. His fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around his glass.

The Omega settles beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his presence against my side. His fingers find my sleeve with practiced ease, sliding over the fabric as though he’s done it a hundred times before.

"Don’t you remember?" His voice drops, intimate, conspiratorial. "The night we met?"

I push his hand away, my touch firm, dismissive.

"I don’t remember you. Leave."

His fingers drift to my collar, tracing the edge of the fabric with slow deliberation—a gesture meant to be felt, meant to linger.

"But we spent such a good time together, Ellis." His smile deepens. "How could you forget me?"

A strange sensation stirs low in my stomach—uncomfortable, unwelcome.

I push his hand away again, harder this time, my voice cold enough to freeze the air between us.

"Leave."

Sum rises, moving with quiet purpose. His hand comes to rest on the Omega’s shoulder, gentle but firm, guiding him to his feet with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Hello, beautiful." His voice is light, but there’s steel beneath it, a quiet warning wrapped in silk. "Don’t you think it’s a little inconvenient to cling to someone else’s husband?"

The Omega blinks, confusion flickering across his features.

"Husband?"

Sum nods, his smile widening just slightly. "Yes. He’s married."

The strange sensation twists into a sharp pain deep in my stomach—too sudden, too intense, too real. It tears through the haze of alcohol and noise, fierce and undeniable.

I rise quickly, the world tilting slightly beneath me.

"Sum." My voice is tight, controlled. "I’m going to the restroom."

He gives me a small, knowing smile and nods, his eyes lingering on me a moment longer than necessary.

I start walking.

My steps are quick—too quick.

The pain coils tighter with every step, spreading through my abdomen like something alive. It drags at me from the inside, a deep, gnawing ache that steals my breath and scatters my thoughts.

What the hell is this pain?

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