Chapter 172

Why was she here again?

The sight of her caused Nora to stiffen instinctively. She despised the flutter of anxiety that stirred within her. There was no reason for her to perceive Layla as a threat, or so she had convinced herself. After all, Layla was hardly a worthy adversary.

However, the harsh reality of the situation sent a wave of impending doom crashing over her, instantly putting her on high alert. Without a second thought, her hand shot out to grasp Samuel's arm, a clear declaration of her territory.

A sharp pang of pain pierced Layla's heart as she observed their intimate proximity. The suffocating grip of jealousy seemed to tighten around her heart. They were no longer together. She had no right to feel this way, yet the bitter taste of envy threatened to consume her. She yearned to flee from the scene, but she remained rooted to the spot, her vulnerability on full display.

"Mr. Holland..." Layla's voice was raspy, as if her mouth was filled with sand. "Miss Adkins, what brings you here?" Nora feigned confusion, her grip on Samuel involuntarily tightening. She stood tall, posturing as if she were his rightful partner.

"Mr. Holland, may I have a moment with you? It's about my brother..." Her voice wavered slightly.

Samuel's lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenched, his face an unreadable mask. Had this woman been awake all night? She looked utterly exhausted, her gaunt appearance bordering on alarming. Or was this a calculated act to gain his sympathy?

He felt no compassion for a traitor and wished to shake the uncomfortable feeling that gnawed at him.

"Miss Adkins," Nora interrupted politely, "Mr. Holland and I were just about to head back to our hotel. We really don't have time, I'm sorry."

"Mr. Holland..." Layla stepped forward, but Nora protectively blocked half of Samuel's figure.

This time, her voice carried a stern edge.

"Miss Adkins, while I'm not sure what you're dealing with, I am sure your brother's situation is none of Mr. Holland's concern. Mr. Holland is your boss, nothing more. If you need help, you should seek out the police or your friends and family. Our time is precious, and we are under no obligation to assist you."

Layla's mind was in disarray, her hearing almost non-existent as Nora's words barely registered.

Her gaze remained fixated on Samuel - her only hope - pleading with him through their shared unspoken language.

Despite all that Nora had said, Layla's attention stayed locked on Samuel, blatantly ignoring her as if she weren't even there, which irked Nora.

Since when were mistresses so brazen?

"Miss Adkins, I've been more than civil with you out of friendship. Why insist on making this uncomfortable for us both?" Nora said with strained patience.

"Mr. Holland, I just need a few moments to explain, it won't take long..." Layla's tone was desperate.

"You..." Nora frowned, looking for a cue from Samuel. But his expression was icy, impersonal - could this mean he had already let go of any feelings for Layla?

"I'm not interested in what you have to say," Samuel uttered coldly, his gaze unwavering.

Nora exhaled a silent sigh of relief, a wave of triumph washing over her. A smug smile played at the corners of her mouth as she glanced at Layla with superiority. She followed Samuel, ready to slide into the passenger seat of his car.

"Mr. Holland..." Layla was on the verge of tears. The thought of Owen suffering in prison tormented her to no end, and with quick steps, she caught up to him, pleading, "Mr. Holland, please..."

'Don't listen, don't think, don't sympathize with her.' Samuel admonished himself, but his feet came to a halt against his will. He closed his eyes, struggling internally, and finally compromised, "Get in the car."

Nora's face tightened. Were those words meant for Layla?

"Get in the car!" Samuel asserted once more.

A glimmer of hope sparked in Layla's eyes as she avoided Nora's furious gaze, "Thank you, Mr. Holland," and hurriedly climbed into the back seat from the other side.

"Mr. Holland, I-" Before Nora could even recover from disbelief, Samuel brushed past her. Without a word of explanation, he left her standing there, getting into the car.

One moment Nora was the victor, the next she was utterly vanquished.

She glared ferociously at Layla, unable to accept being defeated by her.

But her pride wouldn't allow her to make a scene and persist in her pursuit.

She clenched her fists tightly.

Standing her ground, she did her best to stand tall as if that made her less humiliated.

Yet her heart was ablaze with rage.

Inside the car, it was dim and the atmosphere was so oppressive it felt suffocating.

Layla's hands were tensely placed on her knees, clutching her bag's strap so tight it had warped.

A cold sweat formed on her scalp.

"You only have fifteen minutes," Samuel reminded her.

"Mr. Holla-"

"Say that one more time, and I'll throw you out of this car," Samuel warned darkly.

Layla's face was a picture of panic, like a frightened little animal, innocent and anxious.

What was it about that address that infuriated him?

If not that, then what was she supposed to call him?

Layla's throat was tight, and when she spoke, her voice was unnaturally faint, barely more than a whisper, "Owen knows he was wrong, please, have mercy for his youthful recklessness."

"You think a simple 'youthful recklessness' is enough for me to forgive him for pulling a knife on me?" Samuel's laugh was terse and cold, "Besides, I don't believe your brother has realized his mistakes at all. From the way he acted, seems like he'd stab me again if he gets the chance."

"Tell me, why should I let someone who's a threat to me walk free?"

"I promise Owen won't bother you again," Layla vowed, lifting three fingers, "I'll keep him away from you from now on."

"A promise?" Samuel snorted with disdain, "Are your promises worth believing?"

A woman's promise isn't always trustworthy, especially when it comes from someone like Layla.

"My brother... he just got the wrong idea about us..." Layla's voice trailed off abruptly.

Samuel's fingers clamped down on her chin, causing a dull pain to shoot through her. She whimpered, "Holland..."

His eyes were icy, filled with a chilling rage that left Layla speechless. Her throat felt tight and sour as if she had bitten into a lemon.

No matter how much she pleaded, he wouldn't let her off the hook.

With her eyes closed, she swallowed back tears, "What will it take for you to let Owen go?"

"You're trying to make a deal with me?" Samuel scoffed. "What leverage do you have? Your crocodile tears or your body, which I've grown tired of? Or maybe you're hoping I'll say, 'Sleep with me once, and I'll release Owen'?"

Samuel laughed scornfully, "Do you really think I'd want a woman who betrayed me? Layla, you're overestimating yourself."

With those final words, his smile turned cold as he released her chin without a trace of mercy. "If you want me to let Owen go, get rid of the baby."