Chapter 65

A profound sense of shame swelled in Layla's heart, turning her stomach while her face flushed red; she wished the ground would just swallow her whole.

Nora Eilish spoke with a gentle firmness. "I've heard what you all said. Marley is not your boyfriend yet, which means you have no right to question his relationship with this lady, let alone resort to violence."

Isabel stamped her foot in frustration, her eyes angrily darting toward Layla. Seeing her head kept low, if that's not a sign of guilt, I don't know what is.

"If it weren't for her leading Nathan on, he would've been my boyfriend by now."

"You're being too impulsive," Nora Eilish sighed, shaking her head. Although only two years her senior, she seemed much more mature in both emotional intelligence and worldly ways.

"If you like Mr. Marley, pursue him without making life hard for another girl. It's unbecoming and quite frankly, foolish. Apologize to Miss Adkins."

"What? Apologize to her? Does she even deserve it? She's just a mere assis-"

"Apologize," Nora's voice became more stern.

"Cousin" Isabel gritted her teeth, pride wounded.

"No need," Layla stammered in front of Nora Eilish, longing to escape.

"Miss Adkins, a wrong is a wrong. Whether you want it or not, Isabel owes you an apology. Isabel"

Isabel, having always listened to Nora Eilish's words, however reluctant, muttered, "Sorry, okay?"

"Goodbye." Layla fled. She rushed without looking back, darting into the elevator, her mind buzzing as if inhabited by a hundred bees.

Just outside the building, a crowd had gathered at an accident scene where an elderly lady was confronting a young man on a motorcycle.

"You're not going anywhere until you pay up," she demanded.

"Lady, be reasonable, will you? I stopped, and you threw yourself in front of my bike, obviously trying to scam me."

"It was clearly you who hit me and tried to flee. Look at you, with that red hair and riding a motorcycle - you're up to no good, a hooligan!"

"I don't take kindly to being accused by anyone."

It was Owen again!

Layla was beyond words.

Had he done anything lately besides causing trouble?

Yet for all his bluster and bravado, Owen was not one to bully the weak.

Layla stepped forward, "Ma'am, I saw it clearly. You deliberately fell in front of his motorcycle; he didn't hit you."

The old woman grew frantic, "I"

"Layla, stay out of this!" Owen barked at her.

"Owen!" Layla was so frustrated she could punch him. What was he thinking, being such a lousy teammate?

"Oh, I see you're all in cahoots. Fair enough, let's have a chat. They're ganging up to bully my dear wife"

The elderly lady had planted herself on the ground, weeping over her late husband and her ungrateful children, garnering quite a bit of sympathy from passersby who hurled accusations at Layla and Owen.

"Back off! It's none of your business. Looking for a beating?" Owen, quick-tempered, waved his fists menacingly at the crowd.

Layla was now truly alarmed. There were no surveillance cameras around, which was exactly why that crafty old woman dared to pull this scam.

These con artists were the trickiest, impossible to reason with, forcing many to just cut their losses.

Then, Nora Eilish approached, helping the old woman up, and asked with a smile, "I'm a lawyer. Ma'am, would you like to press charges against them?"

The tears stopped immediately. "I want compensation," the old lady demanded.

"Sure, but we'll need evidence. Look, the convenience store nearby has a camera that would have captured the incident. Let's review the footage first and then call the police."

The moment the elderly woman heard they'd be checking the camera footage, she protested no need and wriggled free from Nora Eilish, scampering off with surprising agility.

"Darn, that was close," Owen cursed.

"Miss Adkins, your design plans." Nora Eilish handed them over. "I've already spoken with Isabel; she wants you to continue with the project. She actually loves your designs; it's just that she's been spoiled since childhood and has a bit of a princess attitude. Don't take it personally."

Layla gazed at the gentle and composed Nora Eilish before her and couldn't help but think, if only Nora had been the one with the haughty and capricious demeanor like Isabel, maybe her guilty conscience wouldn't weigh so heavily. Instead, Nora was magnanimous and full of integrity.

In terms of family background and personal qualities, she was a perfect match for Samuel. One could even say that Samuel marrying her was his good fortune.

Hurting such a wonderful woman, one might be struck down by lightning in retribution.

"Miss Adkins?"

"Thank you." Layla clutched the design plans tightly.

"Shall I take you back to the office?"

"No need, I've got another stop to make."

"Alright. I really like your designs, by the way. I hope to hire you as my designer one day." Nora Eilish's smile was sweet and her tone friendly. She made people feel at ease, yet her noble air made befriending her seem like an aspiration.

A woman whose very presence was perfection, Layla thought, feeling her own shortcomings sharply.

"You don't need to stare," Owen chided. "People are different. Some are born with a silver spoon, and some are just wildflowers."

Layla shot him an annoyed glance. "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

Owen grabbed her firmly, preventing her from leaving, and snarled, "My birthday is next week."

"So what?" she retorted.

"What do you mean 'so what'? You always give me a present every year."

Layla was at a loss for words. Despite being the older sister, she was always the one bullied by Owen. Every year, as his birthday approached, she wanted nothing to do with it, yet she found herself bound by a promise made since the age of six.

At home, they never celebrated her birthday, but on her sixth birthday, Owen gave her a pink hair clip and threatened that from then on, she had to celebrate his birthday and give him gifts every year without fail.

Regret washed over Layla as she thought about how she had let her guard down over a simple hair clip, agreeing to such a ludicrous demand.

But to her younger, lonely self, that hair clip was like a precious ember in the snow. She was desperate to cling to that tiny bit of warmth...

"I'm really busy lately, can't I just send a gift?"

"If you dare miss coming home, I'll beat you up," Owen threatened with a nasty tone, swinging his leg over his motorcycle and glaring at her. "Got it?"

With that, he revved the engine and zoomed off, leaving her feeling heavy-hearted.

A sense of oppression suddenly washed over her; she didn't want to return to the office, so she aimlessly wandered the streets alone. Before she knew it, dusk had fallen, and the streetlights began to illuminate the city.

Only when her legs felt too heavy to take another step did she realize she'd been walking for three hours. She found a bench in a small roadside garden to rest.

Two girls around her age approached; one was sobbing, while the other comforted her.

"Are you really pregnant?"