Chapter 45

Well, that was an unexpected question.

Nathan paused for two seconds, his eyes sparkling with a smile. "Split personality?"

"Yeah, you're very serious at the company, but outside, you're..." Layla trailed off.

"Flirtatious?"

Layla nodded, fully aware that he was quite the playboy.

"I've said it before, everyone has two faces, a true face and a mask," Nathan explained.

"Then, which one is your true face?" Layla couldn't tell. Perhaps the alcohol was really taking effect as her speech started to slur and she felt exceptionally dizzy.

Drunk, she looked at the mesmerizing face before her. Nathan took off his glasses. His features were stunning, alluring without a hint of femininity. His gaze was seductive, causing her face to heat up even more.

Leaning lazily against the wall, Nathan positioned himself diagonally above her, with a slightly ambiguous tone, teasing her ear. "Take a guess."

"I I can't tell." He was too close, and Layla couldn't help but feel nervous. His breath was so enchanting, and she grew even more intoxicated.

Being close to her idol was just like drinking alcohol, making her dizzy.

"You'll find out in the future. I'll go now, but don't drink anymore." Nathan touched her face, smiled, and walked away.

"Huff, huff..." Layla took a few deep breaths; her heart racing. She felt like she was floating.

With her head spinning with dizziness, Layla stumbled, causing her whole body to go cold. Fortunately, a hand supported her, and she heard the person sigh in relief.

Looking up, she saw a handsome face, cold and with a furrowed brow, staring at her irritably. "Drinking?"

"You? Holland, Holland..."

"Don't you remember my name?" Samuel grew even more annoyed. He had told her his name before.

Her next sentence made it obvious that she didn't care about him.

"I don't even know your name." Layla pouted, her words slurred with intoxication. "Why is it you again?"

"If not me, who do you hope it is? Nathan?" Samuel's tone grew colder.

Just now, they were practically glued together, and Nathan even touched her face. He saw everything clearly, and his heart felt suffocated. He almost got out of the car and directly crippled the hands of his most talented designer.

"That's right, Nathan is my idol. I admire him the most." Layla's eyes curved as she smiled like a fangirl.

"Admiration or infatuation? Did you forget about Vincent so quickly?" Samuel couldn't help but mock.

Layla's face darkened and she pursed her lips, flipping like a book. "Stop bringing up that scumbag's name, it disgusts me."

"What about me?"

"You're not any better, you're also a scumbag. Stay away from me." Layla swayed and tried to leave, but Samuel grabbed her back forcefully.

"Where do you think you're going?" He said without any discussion, holding her sideways in his arms.

"What are you doing? I I want to go back, the gathering isn't over yet..."

"You think I'll let you go back and drink? Dream on! How much did you have?"

"None of your business."

"Speak up!" he gave her a powerful slap on her buttocks.

"Ouch..." Layla whimpered, feeling wronged, and answered honestly, "Just... just one glass."

Upon hearing that she only had one glass, Samuel felt less worried, but he wouldn't let her touch a drop of alcohol again in the future. "You got this drunk from just one glass?"

"My alcohol tolerance isn't good, is that not allowed?"

"Your alcohol tolerance isn't good, yet you still drink. Do you treat my warning as if it were nothing?"

Her buttocks felt like jelly, soft under his slap. The sensation was quite pleasing, which made Samuel somewhat addicted to reprimanding her. Unable to resist, he gave another pat.

"Ouch..." Layla yelled, kicking her feet aimlessly. "When did I promise you? Who do you think you are to warn me?"

"Just because I'm your first man!" he declared.

Inside the car, Samuel forcefully pressed Layla onto the seat, his gaze sinister and domineering, startling her to the core.

She was silent for a few seconds before continuing to resist. "So what? It's the modern era, isn't it ridiculous to still bring up the first time? Don't you find it laughable?"

It wasn't that she didn't care, but rather that she wouldn't show it in front of this man.

On the contrary, Layla intentionally acted as if she didn't care at all.

But that trace of guilt in her eyes was thoroughly captured by Samuel.

She wasn't the kind of woman who didn't care about her first time, otherwise, he wouldn't have given her the chance to get pregnant.

His large hand held her chin, the rough fingertips danced gracefully, each word clear and powerful. "No matter the era, you are mine."

"I don't...mmm..." Layla's lips were once again sealed.

This kiss came forcefully, making her lips tingle and ache. But soon, it turned gentle, as if he wanted to taste every sweetness of hers. They kissed deeply and passionately.

Was it because she was drunk? Why was she slightly intoxicated, as if floating in a mist?

"Still claiming that you're not my woman?" Samuel looked at her, satisfied. Her face flushed from the kiss, her little breaths shallow. "Remember to catch your breath next time."

"You jerk!" Layla raised her hand to scold him for forcefully kissing her.

Samuel captured her delicate wrist and kissed her fingertips. "I don't like women who resort to violence. Remember that."

He got into the car.

Mr. Vandella started the car.

As Layla sat, her head grew dizzy, her body heated up, and she frowned uncomfortably. "My head is spinning. Can you buy me something to relieve it?"

"No." Samuel refused. Pregnant women can't randomly take medicine, and making her remember this discomfort is the best way to make her learn her lesson. Otherwise, she would just repeat it next time.

Layla angrily glared at him. "Heartless person, you have no humanity."

"Hmm, I am a heartless person." Samuel had always been a bad person.

"You are truly heartless. You made Louis lose his job. You're only concerned about venting your anger without considering how difficult others' lives are."

"Difficult?" laughed Samuel, his sinister gaze fixated on her. Layla's heart tightened, as if the depths of those pitch-black eyes held unimaginable, terrifying past experiences.

"Those who have never fallen into hell don't know what difficulties are." Samuel smirked. He had once had his hands and feet broken, and was thrown onto the streets to beg. He faced contemptuous gazes and hypocritical sympathy. If he hadn't been ruthless, he would have been crushed to pieces long ago.

"I've experienced it, so don't expect any kindness from me. It's not in my dictionary."

Layla was chilled by fear. In this moment, he resembled a devil emerging from hell, exuding a sense of revenge.

She didn't understand him at all. He was a thousand times more dangerous than she had imagined.

She trembled.

Closing her eyes, she helplessly pleaded, "Can't you just do it for me?" She truly had no other options left.

Her chin was suddenly pinched. She groaned and reluctantly opened her eyes.

A glimmer of tears welled up, making her look pitiful.

"Don't beg me for another man, because next time, I will definitely refuse." Samuel enunciated each word clearly.

Layla was stunned. What did he mean? Was this a promise?

A shop suddenly flew past her line of sight.

"Stop!" she urgently shouted.