Chapter 161
Holland, a man known for his fiery temper, was prepared to eradicate both Layla and the problem she posed once and for all. His previous operatives, assigned to shadow Layla, had been efficiently "neutralized".
With Samuel out of the picture, gathering intelligence had become a more challenging task.
However, Holland was confident that eliminating them would not pose a significant difficulty.
He was on the brink of issuing the command when he paused, reconsidering his decision.
"Patience," he reminded himself, "Continue observing her."
Samuel's position remained ambiguous, and Holland was reluctant to make a hasty move. Ideally, Samuel would resolve the issue himself.
After all, there was ample time before the child's birth. There was no need to rush.
...
The hospital was a haven of tranquility in the early morning hours.
After a restful night, Alice had regained much of her strength. She was leisurely scrolling through her phone in bed when she suddenly cried out in delight, "Incredible!"
Turning to Layla with an excited expression, she announced, "There's a party tomorrow night!"
Layla, just roused from sleep, cast her a languid glance, "In your current state, you believe you can dance?"
"I'm not planning to hit the dance floor, silly. It's a charity gala. A friend managed to secure us two invitations," Alice propped herself up and turned to Layla, her face alight with anticipation. "I've never attended a high-class gala before. I'm eager to see if the upper crust is as it's depicted in novels. Finally, an opportunity to witness it firsthand."
Layla couldn't help but sense the irony, "It's all superficial glamour, everyone's concealing their true selves behind a facade."
She had experienced one of these events in the past, where she was cornered by heiresses and nearly ousted by Lucy, giving her a bitter taste of the so-called high society's ostentation. She had sworn never to attend again.
"Please, my friend went to great lengths to get us in."
"I don't want to go."
"Layla, you're the best!"
"After the food poisoning incident, you won't even accompany me to one party? What happened to sisterhood?"
"I'm sorry, I genuinely don't want to go."
...
The following evening.
A dinner party, teeming with a dazzling assortment of guests.
Politicians, businessmen, military officials, and celebrities all intermingled.
Layla looked despondent.
She had vowed not to attend, yet here she was, contradicting her own words with her presence.
All due to Alice's persuasive charm that left her with no other option but to acquiesce.
"Wow! Look at this opulence!" Alice exclaimed, marveling at the scene. "All these heiresses look so stunning. Their skin, undoubtedly the result of high-end skincare products, so fair and soft, each carrying themselves with such grace."
"Whoa! That's Chanel's latest, I just saw it on the runway last week."
"Isn't that Lily, the socialite who recently made her debut in the entertainment industry? She's breathtaking."
Layla remained unimpressed, "It's all an illusion."
No matter how beautiful they were, to her, they were nothing more than petite individuals adorned in fancy attire.
"Oh, my stomach is acting up again, I'm off to the restroom, wait for me, okay?"
"If you're not feeling well, you should head back early," Layla called after her.
Layla picked up a piece of cake and began to nibble at it delicately.
"Miss Adkins?" a voice inquired. A young woman dressed in a Dior gown approached, a small entourage trailing behind her.
A flicker of recognition sparked in Layla's mind.
It took her a few heartbeats to place the faces before her; they were the same women who had cornered her at Lucy's birthday celebration. The sight of them soured the taste of the cake she had been enjoying.
A pang of regret washed over her. She should have known better than to attend. The elite circle was too small, the same faces appearing at every event.
"Where's Mr. Holland?" Lily asked, her voice cutting through the chatter. "I didn't see his name on the guest list tonight."
Layla remained silent, her gaze fixed on the untouched cake before her.
Lily's approach had been tentative at first, almost ingratiating. But as she took in Layla's attire - a nondescript dress that was clearly not designer - her demeanor shifted.
"Did Mr. Holland dump you?" she asked, her voice dripping with false concern.
Layla's fingers tightened around her fork, a small gesture that went unnoticed by most. But Lily, with her background in psychology, read the body language instantly. A triumphant smirk spread across her face. "Looks like you really got dumped, huh!"
"Heh! Mr. Holland really had your back that day. You got into it with Justin, and Mr. Holland drove his family to bankruptcy. I thought he really cared about you, but looks like he dropped you pretty fast."
"Right? What was it that he said? Something about getting married? Ha, I almost took it seriously for a second there."
"Mr. Holland doesn't get along with the old man Holland. He said he wanted to marry you just to piss off his dad. Did you really think you could marry into that kind of wealth? Dream on."
"Can't believe you don't see you're just being used, what a fool!"
"Exactly. I mean, who do you think you are, coming from some broke family that runs a boxing gym. How could you even dream of trying to compare yourself with Miss Eilish? Seriously way out of your league."
"We have to get justice for Kessie!"
The taunts continued, each one more hurtful than the last. Layla felt like she was surrounded by a murder of cackling crows, their voices grating on her nerves. Perhaps she should have let Samuel teach them a lesson last time?
"Why the silent treatment?" one of them asked, her voice filled with mock concern.
"I thought you could fight?" another added, her laughter echoing around the room.
Their confidence grew with each passing second, bolstered by Layla's silence. One of them even had the audacity to push her.
"Kneel down and lick my shoes clean, then I might let you go. How about that?" Lily suggested, her eyes wide with fury.
Before Layla could respond, a new voice cut through the chatter. "You... Anthony?" Lily's face drained of color, her arrogance replaced with meekness.
Anthony stood there in a crisp white suit, his tall frame perfectly tailored by the fine stitching. He exuded an air of calm authority, like a breeze after a storm.
"An, Anthony, you've got it all wrong," Lily stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "She-she wasn't invited, just crashed the dinner. We were just trying to send her on her way."
Layla's response was simple. "I was invited."
"Where's your invitation then? Show us!" one of the women demanded.
"It's with my friend," Layla replied, her voice steady.
"Anthony, please don't let her fool you," Lily pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation.
"Miss Adkins is a friend of mine, and I invited her here," Anthony's tone was gentle, yet carried an authoritative certainty.
"What? No way, that's not true."
"Anthony, she-I mean-she used to be with Mr. Holland, and after he dumped her, she went after you. You can't let her fool you."
"What a slut!" someone spouted off.
"I won't allow anyone to insult my friends. If you're no longer interested in staying for dinner, I suggest you leave," Anthony defended calmly, with an underlying sternness.
"Anthony..." Lily was seething. That darn Layla, destitute and plain, how on earth did she manage to get support from the top tier bodyguards in A-City? Just dumped by Mr. Holland and now clinging to Anthony-
The room fell silent. The women exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of disbelief and envy.
"You're going to regret this, Anthony," Lily warned, her voice trembling with rage. With one last scathing glance at Layla, she stormed off.
"You okay?" Anthony asked, his gaze softening as he turned to Layla.
His voice was calm and even, but there was a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there before. He hadn't been expecting to see her, but their chance encounter had stirred something within him. She was the first woman to ever make him feel this way.