The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 380

Chapter 172: Where Silence Lives-1

Maya stood at the center of the entry hall, the quiet pressing in as Dahlia’s words settled slowly into her chest.

This is where I go when I need silence.

The meaning lingered, heavier than the sentence itself. It wrapped around her, unfamiliar and unexpectedly intimate.

“Aunt Dahlia…” Maya hesitated, fingers curling slightly at her sides. “You… you mean you…”

Dahlia’s expression softened. She gave a low, gentle chuckle-not dismissive, not amused, just honest. “Need silence too?” she said. “Of course I do.”

Her gaze drifted briefly around the hall, as though the walls themselves held memories.

“Commitment isn’t easy, Maya. It’s two completely different people choosing-again and again-to live alongside each other. To understand, to endure.” A small pause. “It isn’t sparkles and cheers all the time.”

Then her eyes returned to Maya, warmth threaded with knowing humor.

“And you think my son’s possessiveness is excessive?” She smiled faintly. “Oh, dear. His father was far worse.”

The words were light-but the truth beneath them was not.

Dahlia’s expression shifted, the humor softening into something more reflective.

“Dominic has always been prideful,” she said quietly. “He is a Blackwood, after all. That name carries weight.” A brief pause. “It comes with expectation-power, success, influence. And being the only son…” She exhaled softly. “He understood what that meant from a very young age.”

Maya listened, unmoving.

“He was driven by ego. By pride,” Dahlia continued. “He acted first and thought later-far too often.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Too impulsive. Just like his son.”

She glanced at Maya then, eyes sharp but warm.

“The difference between me and your mother,” Dahlia said, “is how we fight.”

Maya’s brows knit together.

Chapter 172 Where Silence Lives 1

+25 Points

“I am confrontational,” Dahlia admitted without shame. “Silence has never been my strength. I argue. I demand answers. I want results-and I want them immediately.” She gave a small shrug. “If you can’t handle that, if you can’t meet me where I stand, then we were never meant

to work.”

Her gaze drifted again, thoughtful.

“Malia was different,” she said softly. “She was patient. She didn’t push-you barely felt her move at all.” A small, knowing smile touched her lips. “Her way of getting her point across was quiet. Psychological. She let people think they’d come to their own conclusions.”

Dahlia paused, then shook her head slowly.

“And that,” she added, “is why I’ve always thought her way was far more brutal.”

Maya’s brows drew together.

“When I argue,” Dahlia continued, “you know exactly where I stand. I raise my voice. I demand answers. I tell you what hurts me and why.” She exhaled. “It’s messy, yes-but it’s honest. The other person isn’t guessing. They aren’t left alone with their thoughts, wondering what they did wrong.”

Her gaze softened, but her voice remained firm.

“Malia’s silence did the opposite. She wouldn’t fight-you felt her absence instead. And silence forces people to turn inward.” A faint smile, almost rueful. “They replay every word, ev ery moment, searching for the mistake. It feels calm on the surface, but inside?” She tapped lightly against her chest. “It’s war.”

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