He spent fortunes chasing solutions. He met with celebrated neurologists in Europe, funded private research, flew across continents for experimental consultations, and tried treatments that ranged from cutting-edge to wildly speculative. Specialists, therapists, alternative healers, speech experts, energy practitioners—he brought them all into his orbit.
Money poured out like water.
The result never changed.
Sofia remained silent.
And that silence grew larger inside the Montrose mansion than any sound ever could. It echoed against the marble floors and high ceilings, turning that magnificent home into something beautiful and frozen, like a palace made of glass in winter.
Victor loved his daughter with the kind of force that frightened him. But loving her also hurt him in ways he could not admit aloud. Every time he watched her smile without sound, every time he saw her lips move without a voice following, he felt the sharp edge of his own helplessness. He could close billion-dollar deals before lunch, move markets with a phone call, and bend people to his will in conference rooms all over the world.
But he could not buy one word from his child.