Chapter 166
"Layla?" The question sent a tremor through Anthony's heart, causing it to flutter uncontrollably. Was this the stirrings of attraction? It was a sensation unfamiliar to him, leaving him puzzled and unsure.
His gaze flickered, a subtle shift that did not escape Sarah's keen intuition. Women, in moments like these, proved to be more perceptive than the shrewdest detectives. He was actually attracted to that vixen, Layla!
Hadn't he been convinced that Sarah was his true angel? Why then, did he harbor feelings for Layla? How had she managed to ensnare him?
Sarah's heart churned with a sense of injustice. Was fate playing a cruel joke on her? Why did her life seem so cursed in comparison to Layla's, all because of her enchanting allure? Sarah's fury surged, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
"I am your angel, and you're not allowed to like her!" Sarah's voice was demanding, almost pleading.
"You're crossing a line," Anthony warned her sternly.
"Anthony"
"Go back to your room. We're done here." His voice was firm, leaving no room for further discussion. His clarity on the matter was a sign of forgiveness, this one time, due to her past act of saving him. But there were boundaries he would not allow to be crossed again; hence the warning.
Seething, Sarah stormed back to her hotel room, where she ripped apart the tampered condoms in a fury and packed her things to head home.
Upon entering the old family home, she was greeted by a table laden with a sumptuous dinner. Sophia, her face beaming with joy, welcomed her. "Sarah, you're back? How did it go last night? You must be exhausted; you deserve a good meal. Look, I made your favorite pigeon soup and all the dishes you love."
"I'm too angry to eat," Sarah snapped, pushing away her utensils and bitterly recounted the previous day's events to Sophia.
"How is this possible? How does that tramp know Anthony?"
"How should I know?" Sarah retorted irritably. Was there really such a thing as fate in this world, destined to tie Anthony and that wretched woman together, inescapably?
No, even if there was, she, Sarah, would sever their supposed destiny and snatch Anthony away.
Sophia looked gravely concerned. "Xiao, if I may say, since this path is blocked, you might as well just ask Anthony for money directly. He owes you his life; asking him for a hundred million isn't unreasonable. Get the cash, then cut off all ties with him."
"A hundred million? Like I'm begging for change?"
"A hundred million, my daughter!" The ambition frightened Sophia, "With that much, we could live comfortably for the rest of our lives. Isn't that enough?"
"It's not enough. Compared to Anthony, it's just a drop in the bucket." Sarah spat bitterly, "If I could have the Eilish family's child, even if I can't become Mrs. Eilish, the child will still inherit a piece of the estate."
"But you've failed, haven't you? What if Anthony finds out it was the tramp who saved him, not you? You wouldn't be able to get a penny then." Sophia was more cautious, preferring to quit while ahead. As much as she was greedy, a hundred million was plenty for her; it was better than ending up with nothing.
"Why are you so faint-hearted?" Sarah glared at her with contempt, "Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime. Of course, I'm taking the risk."
"Oh dear, you're just like your father, always a gambler at heart."
"I didn't come here to listen to your nonsense. Help me think of something; you're always full of ideas, aren't you?" Sarah urged, pushing Sophia's hands, "Come on, think of something, Mom."
"Alright, alright, let me think."
As they were talking, Jason stumbled in carrying two bottles, clearly inebriated.
Sophia stood up angrily and smacked the table, "All you do is drink! Why don't you just drink yourself to death?"
Jason belched, "Would my being dead make you happy, so you could remarry?"
Sophia slapped him across the face.
"Smack-"
"Snap out of it! There's something important you need to do, and you better listen well."
After Sophia laid out the plan, Jason sobered up quite a bit.
"Can this really work?"
"My idea, of course, it'll work. That damn girl has been working and not giving you a dime, do you expect her to take care of you when you're old? We're depending on our Xiao. The happiness of our entire family is in your hands now; you'd better get this right."
"Yes, dad, I'm your darling daughter, I'll take good care of you," Sarah cooed sweetly, sending Sophia a triumphant wink that said: experience counts....
After two days in the hospital, Layla found herself buried in a heap of design drafts.
She glanced at the clock after filling half the page with her drawing-it was already eight at night. The office was deserted, save for her lone presence.
On a Friday night, everyone else seemed busy with dates.
There was not a single text on her phone.
Layla used to relish the end of the workday, eager to return home where his car waited right outside the building. They'd share dinner, immersed in easy conversation. Remembering those happy moments now felt like recalling a dream.
The sweeter the dream, the more profound the sense of loss when it bursts like a fragile bubble.
Layla's thoughts drifted to the overtime night a month ago, marked by Samuel's unexpected visit.
Standing forlorn at the elevator entrance, she was haunted by the memory of him pulling her inside.
Back then, she didn't know he was the CEO. As he took her up to the top floor, her heart raced with nerves.
The thought now made her smile.
Initially, she mistook him for some kind of "male bodyguard," leading to an array of amusing misunderstandings.
*Ding*-the elevator arrived.
Her hand instinctively reached for the lobby button, but in a curious twist, she pressed for the top floor instead.
Her heart skipped a beat. Shocked by her own action, she wondered if she had lost her mind.
Still, she watched, eyes wide open, as the elevator scaled the building to the penthouse level.
As the elevator doors slid open, Layla cautiously peeked out. The rooftop lay empty. She hurried across to the terrace.
Brilliant city lights and the steady stream of traffic glowed opposite the terrace. The breeze carried the crisp hints of early fall-summer was indeed over
All the past moments, bitter or sweet, regretful or blissful, seemed to scatter in the wind, fading into oblivion.
She remembered toasting with him, boldly proclaiming her dream to become the world's finest designer, her laugh exuberant and free, while he looked on indulgently.
Missing someone was a breathing pain, and right then, Layla felt her heart ripping apart.
"Samuel... Samuel..." Her eyes reddened as she murmured, choking up, "Why did I have to meet you? Why did I have to... fall in love with you?"
She had thought it was just a fondness, a strong liking, until their separation. Only then did she realize the agony of losing him was like losing a r ib-it was love.
Four years with Vincent didn't compare to the emotional depth etched into her heart during the short months with Samuel.
She couldn't reminisce any longer. The pain was unbearable for even a second more.
With a fierce swipe at her tears, Layla turned, only to find the man she yearned for insanely standing before her.
Her heart leaped, then seemingly stopped completely in that second.