My Boyfriend, the Final Boss Chapter 1

My handsome, rich boyfriend is mute—and I’m sure he doesn’t love me. He won’t speak or kiss me properly, and when I tease him in bed, he still refuses. Worse, he locks me in the basement monthly like a dark secret.

Everything clicked when I heard a woman’s scream from his room, followed by violent slamming. I cried, then decided to leave. But stepping outside, the manor turned horrifying.

Then, live comments appeared:

【Newbie in an SSS-rank instance?!】

【Why’s Bloody Mary chasing you?!】

【Alistair, stop twisting your OWN head!】

【Main BOSS ahead—she’s dead.】

I called Silas’s name—he sprouted wings and fled.

【BOSS just ran from a newbie?】

【Time for bed.】

* * *

After pinning Silas to the bed yet again, I swore to myself that this time, I would finally have him.

I’d superglued the lock. I’d nailed the windows shut. I’d even reinforced the floorboards.

I couldn't imagine how he could possibly escape my grasp tonight.

Silas propped himself up on his elbows, his usually immaculate black shirt now ripped open at the collar from my efforts. I impatiently bit down on his collarbone. His long lashes fluttered, and a deep blush crept across his face.

“Please?” I whined, my voice syrupy sweet. “I promise I’ll be quick. Just once, I won’t be greedy!”

Outside the door, the eavesdropping butler and head housekeeper let out a synchronized, thunderous cough.

The sound jolted Silas from his haze of desire. Gently but firmly, he pushed me away, shaking his head to stop my advances.

I was genuinely starting to get angry.

“Silas, be honest with me,” I snapped. “Is it that you… you can’t?”

He froze, a flicker of hurt and unspeakable grievance shimmering in his emerald-green eyes.

With practiced ease, the butler burst through the door.

“Miss Zoe, the staff have found signs of an intruder—an assassin. For your safety, would you mind spending the night in the safe room?”

Again? This was the fifth time this month! Did these people think our home was some kind of tourist attraction?

Alistair, the butler, had once explained that ever since Silas inherited his fortune and this manor from his scumbag father, his illegitimate half-brothers had been sending assassins every month to try and take him out.

What was this, the Middle Ages?

Well, obviously not. Silas was mixed-race, with sharp, sculpted features, porcelain skin, and a lean, powerful physique that was all muscle without being bulky. He’d captivated me from the very first glance.

From what I could piece together, I’d been hiking, taken a fall, and they’d rescued me.

The bad news: I had amnesia.

The even worse news: after checking my phone, I discovered I was an orphan with no family to worry about me.

And after a series of suspiciously convenient mishaps—my car breaking down, a sudden storm stranding my boat, a helicopter malfunction—I realized the universe was practically screaming at me to seize this opportunity.

So, I stayed, my conscience perfectly clear.

Silas couldn't speak, but he had an incredible way of remembering my every whim.

One day, I was looking at an illustration in a book and sighed, “How wonderful would it be to wake up to a sea of flowers every day?”

The next morning, I opened my bedroom window, and the sprawling green lawn had been transformed overnight into a breathtaking expanse of crimson roses.

The butler and the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, always watched me with warm, kind eyes.

“Miss Zoe,” Alistair would say, “it’s been a very long time since the Master has smiled so happily.”

“How long?” I’d asked.

“Oh, several centuries, at least—” he’d begun with a chuckle.

Mrs. Gable had swiftly clapped a hand over his mouth. “A figure of speech, my dear. Pay him no mind.”

Silas gave me everything I could ever ask for, yet we rarely touched. We’d been together for a year, and he still wouldn't take our relationship to the next level.

Then again, I was the one who had relentlessly pursued him.

Maybe he just didn't like me that much.