Chapter 15
Samuel compromised to her once again.
He handed the documents to his assistant, James, in the driver's seat, giving him instructions on the time, place, and recipient and how to handle the car. Then, he drove Layla to the hospital himself.
Layla felt that this minor injury didn't warrant a special trip to the hospital. Her family owned a martial arts school, and although she was a girl, she had learned some self-defense and often got injured.
His concern made her feel uncomfortable.
"I'm not taking you to the hospital because you're precious." He seemed to read her mind.
He added, "It's because I want to."
It was an illogical statement, yet it felt like an unquestionable command, leaving Layla unable to refuse. She muttered under her breath, "If you like being a driver so much, why not become a taxi driver? You have the skills for it."
Although her voice was low, Samuel still heard it and laughed.
So far, he had only driven for her. Who would dare sit in his car when he drove besides her?
The car quickly arrived at a private hospital that only served political and business elites and the wealthy.
Unexpectedly, several doctors and nurses were already lined up at the entrance, waiting.
Layla had never seen such a scene before. She clung to the passenger seat, refusing to get out. She said, "It's a minor injury. I don't need to go to such a hospital."
"Are you getting out on your own, or should I carry you out?" Samuel glared at her, his expression domineering.
"I don't have any money," Layla said awkwardly.
He asked, "Who said you had to pay?"
Layla explained, "It's not appropriate for you to pay for my treatment."
Samuel answered, "You hit my car. You pay for the repairs, and I'll cover the medical expenses. It's fair."
However, Layla felt he was just making things up.
He ordered, "Don't make me repeat myself a third time. Get out."
"Alright." Layla had no choice. She was afraid of the embarrassment if he really carried her out.
The doctors and nurses bowed respectfully and greeted them, making Layla question if Samuel was really a sex worker.
The doctor who treated her was a chief physician, exceptionally gentle, and even praised her for being strong.
Layla proudly said it was a minor injury. Samuel couldn't help but recall her enthusiasm the night she was drunk, her bravado the next day despite being scared, and her obedient demeanor as a barmaid.
And now, she appeared brave and innocent.
He was growing more and more curious about her.
At that moment, Layla was still concerned about the documents, urging him to double-check.
"My assistant, James, is always reliable," Samuel said with a raised eyebrow, but Layla felt inexplicably reassured.
"Assistant? Only high-level executives have assistants, right? Your position must be high, right?" Layla suddenly thought of something, her eyes widening in surprise. "Our CEO's last name is also Holland. You wouldn't be..."