Chapter 170
The coarse texture of his fingertips grazed Nora's chin, sending a shiver through her akin to an electric shock, nearly arresting her heart in that instant.
This was their first touch.
For Nora, this was her inaugural proximity to a man, let alone the one she harbored deep affection for.
Nora Eilish felt like a smitten sixteen-year-old, her first flush of love overwhelming her. Her sharpness, intellect, and rationality evaporated in that fleeting moment. Her body and mind were entirely at his mercy, craving a deeper connection.
As Samuel drew nearer, his breath ragged against her lips, she trembled with increased intensity, her skin prickling with goosebumps.
"Do you, like me?" Samuel's voice, sultry and laced with derision, was irresistibly alluring, akin to a siren's call from the infernal depths.
"L-like," Nora Eilish stuttered, her gaze locked on his lips, simultaneously desiring and fearing their closeness. She felt akin to an ant on a hot griddle-nervous and uncertain. She was losing her sanity.
"Forever?"
Nora Eilish nodded in affirmation.
"Heh. To hell with forever," Samuel scoffed dismissively.
Emily had spoken of forever, as had that woman...
Was a woman's promise of forever merely a slap in the face?
Samuel was consumed by a bitter cynicism, his heart morphing into a frigid wasteland.
She had yearned for his kiss, but it never materialized. Nora inhaled quietly, anticipation overwhelming her. She leaned in and planted a kiss on him.
However, the moment she closed her eyes, his presence receded, his hand leaving her chin.
A wave of loss swept over her as she opened her eyes to Samuel's indifferent retreating figure.
Nora Eilish released a bitter chuckle, frustration simmering within her.
They had been so close, yet he had refrained from kissing her. Was he genuinely uninterested?
Was Layla the only one in his heart?
Nora's nails dug into her flesh, nearly drawing blood.
...
Meanwhile.
At the hotel.
Upon exiting the restroom, Layla discovered Owen holding her prenatal vitamins.
She froze, her face taut. She resembled a child caught in a misdeed, utterly bewildered.
"You're pregnant?" Owen swiveled, his gaze boring into her abdomen.
"No, it's not mine, I-it's a friend's, she left it with me..." Layla stammered, reaching for the bottle, but Owen raised his arm, keeping it out of her grasp.
"Layla, do you honestly believe this feeble excuse will deceive me? It's Holland's child, isn't it? Is he even aware you're pregnant?"
"Please, Owen, just stop. I'm already under enough stress," Layla retorted, her voice cracking.
Her patience was wearing thin these days, the weight of the world pushing her to her limits. One more provocation from him, and she might just shatter.
"You expect me to ignore it? For you to just hide as if you're in some witness protection program? Concealing the truth won't rectify anything, Layla. If it's indeed that scoundrel's, you need to confront him, make him assume responsibility!"
"It's not his fault. I don't want anything from him."
"What, so you plan to raise this child on your own? You're only 21, Layla. Are you even capable of being a single mother?" Owen was beside himself. He was typically the one causing trouble, and she was the one rescuing him.
Layla had always appeared sensible in his eyes, and now, to err like this, abandoned and pregnant. It was a game-changer.
"I've warned you, those wealthy playboys are trouble, they'll merely toy with you," Owen continued. "You trusted him implicitly, and for what? Now he's abandoned you for some heiress?"
"Stop, just stop," Layla pleaded, her words laced with pain. "I don't want to hear it anymore. This is my issue, my problem, not yours."
"We're both Ye's, Layla. How can I stand idly by and do nothing?" Owen insisted, raising his voice.
"What can you possibly do, huh?" Layla managed a bitter smile through her tears.
"I'll drag you to him, make him explain himself." Owen reached for her wrist, but she quickly retreated, her face etched with despair.
"I don't need his explanations. He owes me nothing."
"So, what, you're content with being just a fling? Layla, have you lost your mind?"
"I said stop! I can't listen to this. I need some space; just leave."
"You-"
"Leave!" Her scream was raw and piercing.
Owen's brows furrowed into a furious "V," glaring at her for a prolonged, silent moment before he kicked a chair over and stormed out.
BANG-the door slammed shut, causing the room to tremble.
...
Tears kept Layla awake well into the night.
The shrill ring of her phone jolted her awake in the morning.
Her eyes, swollen and barely opening, she fumbled groggily for the phone. "Hello?"
"Is this Layla? Your brother Owen's been arrested for assault. You better come to the station right away."
Assault?
Jolted awake, she sat up abruptly, stammered a "I'll be right there," and rushed off.
Upon reaching the station, a trio of luxury cars were parked out front.
Two Jaguars flanked a Rolls-Royce.
A sense of foreboding dread washed over her, her face turning a shade paler.
Could it be...
She quickened her pace and burst into the police station. As soon as she entered, she saw Owen hunched over, his face marred with injuries, wrists shackled in handcuffs, a police officer standing at his side.
On the other side, a lawyer was negotiating.
A haughty figure clad entirely in black dominated the room, his imposing handsome features seemed incongruous with the police station setting, yet his dignity remained unscathed, the aura of authority around him unmistakable.
With his cellphone pressed to his ear, he murmured in a deep, steady voice, "I'll be back at the office in an hour for the shareholders' meeting."
Layla swallowed hard.
Each step felt like a thousand pounds, her mind buzzing with a disorienting hum. Finally, the man hung up and turned his gaze towards her.
Those eyes, once brimming with laughter, were now icy and detached-terrifying in their aloofness, as if she were a stranger.
Layla shivered, dragging her heavy feet forward with anxious unease, "Samuel, no, Mr. Holland, has my brother offended you?"
"Offended? This morning Owen came at Mr. Holland with a knife," the lawyer snapped sharply.
A knife? The news startled Layla, her gaze whipping towards Owen, who sprang furiously from his seat, shouting, "That jerk played her and then dumped her, I just wanted to teach him a lesson!"
"Owen, shut up!" Layla scolded him loudly.
Owen's anger flared, his eyes burning with rage as if intent on tearing Samuel apart, "Am I wrong? He got you pregnant and then bailed. Guys like him deserve to be ripped to shreds!"
"Samuel, if you're a man, face me one-on-one!"
"Owen!" Layla panicked, hastily apologizing, "Mr. Holland, I'm so sorry, I clearly didn't discipline my brother properly. He's only nineteen, still immature, I hope you can be magnanimous and forgive his mistake, please reconcile with him."