Chapter 73

Pain.

Layla frowned.

Was he kissing or biting her? Did he have the instincts of a wild animal?

The grip on her waist tightened, as if he was trying to become one with her.

Layla tried to push Samuel away, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. She felt like a trapped bird, twisting helplessly, her movements only increasing the heat of his body.

"Samuel... mmm..."

In anger, she attempted to knee him, but Samuel swiftly moved aside, released her lips, and gave her a look that was both fiery and playful. "Trying to end my lineage?"

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her cheeks burning with indignation. She despised him!

Impeccably dressed, Samuel's long arms held her captive, his stance reminiscent of a predator about to strike.

The orange light accentuated the contours of his handsome face, giving him an enigmatic expression.

Her own lip gloss glistened on his lips.

Samuel raised his hand, his rough fingertips grazing her soft chin. As she struggled, he tightened his hold, compelling her to tilt her head back and slightly part her lips.

Her eyes, a stark contrast of black and white, were defiant yet filled with unshed tears.

Her lashes fluttered like butterflies, stirring his heart.

She was such a little tease!

Samuel bit her lip with a warning, "Stop tempting me."

She was tempting him?

Absurd.

Layla's eyes widened, and she twisted her wrists. "You're the one forcing this!"

"Let me go!"

"Samuel!"

"I'll call the cops, I'll have you behind bars!" she yelled.

But to Samuel, her outbursts were like those of a tiny, roaring kitten, only fueling his urge to overcome her resistance.

His gaze was piercing.

"Heh," he smirked with a challenge, "Go ahead and call. I'm curious to see who would dare interfere with my business."

A mix of humiliation and helplessness welled up in Layla's throat, leaving her at a loss for how to express her fury.

Did his wealth and status really grant him the right to bully others?

She was no one's plaything.

"You have a fiancée, and yet you force your advances on other women. Have you no shame? There's no shortage of women eager to have your children. Go to them and leave me be."

"There are indeed many, which is precisely why I don't just choose anyone." Samuel's intense gaze never wavered from her. He had set his sights on her from the moment he saw her, otherwise, he wouldn't have allowed her anywhere near his world.

Layla felt a surge of sadness. What was it about her that he couldn't resist? Couldn't she change that?

"Get out," she demanded, struggling with renewed vigor.

Samuel released her. "I'm hungry, I'll go make some spaghetti."

"I'm under no obligation to feed you."

"Then I'll have no choice but to devour you." Samuel's intense smile pinned her against the wall once more.

Layla gritted her teeth, "Eat and then leave!"

Samuel casually took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and tossed them onto the couch before lounging on it himself.

The apartment was quaint and cozy.

It was his first visit, but he felt surprisingly at home.

The sounds of her moving around in the kitchen, even the purposeful slamming of the refrigerator door, were oddly comforting.

This woman, she made anywhere feel like home.

Layla brought out the spaghetti to find Samuel reclining as if asleep, his body relaxed.

She snorted. Did he really see this place as his own?

He appeared worn out, drifting off within minutes, seemingly without a care in the world.

If it weren't for the law, Layla wasn't sure she wouldn't act on her darker impulses.

"Clang!" She set the plate down hard on the coffee table.

Samuel woke up, frowning. Had he actually fallen asleep?

"Eat your spaghetti!" Layla snapped.

"What, am I a dog now?"

"You seem to enjoy biting, so it's not much of a stretch."

"I'll bite you back," Samuel retorted with a defiant laugh and began to eat the spaghetti hungrily. The warmth filled his belly, soothing the ache.

She was a balm for his stomach, and for his heart.

Even though she often exasperated him, she offered a comfort that no other woman could provide.

The plate was emptied in no time.

"The spaghetti are done, time for you to go," Layla issued the eviction order without delay.

"It's late, I'll spend the night here," Samuel declared, heading towards the bedroom as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"That's not happening, you can't stay," Layla blocked the bedroom door, her arms outstretched. "This is my place, and I don't consent."

"I own the building," Samuel said with a slight lift of his eyebrow.

"Then I'll leave."

"Where to?" Samuel caught her slender wrist.

"Is that any of your business? Can't I sleep on the streets?"

"Is that the plan? If so, I guess you can stay here tonight."

He was offering her shelter? In her own home? Layla looked at him, speechless. "Am I supposed to thank you for that?"

"You're welcome," Samuel said as he entered the bedroom and lay down on the small bed.

It was nowhere near as comfortable as his king-size bed back home, but he was willing to make do for the night.

"Get up, get up now!" Layla was livid, hurling a pillow at him. "I just changed those sheets, and you dare lie on them fully clothed..."

"If you prefer, I can undress," Samuel began to unbutton his shirt.

"Don't you dare strip, you pervert!" Layla quickly covered her eyes, flustered and circling the bed. "If anyone sees you leaving my room, they'll think you spent the night."

"Keep yelling, and they'll be certain I'm in your bed right now."

Layla was speechless in the face of such shamelessness. She should have laced his spaghetti with poison, the scoundrel.

"I don't mind sharing," Samuel said generously, making room on the bed, just enough for her.

"I refuse to sleep with you." Layla stated firmly and went to the couch.

But her anger kept her awake. She bit down on the pillow in frustration.

"If you can't sleep, sing me a song," he called from the bedroom.

"A funeral dirge?" Layla quipped.

"Are you always this spiteful, or is it just for me?" Samuel's voice was light.

"And you, barging into people's beds uninvited, does your family approve?" Layla shot back.

In the bedroom, Samuel lay back, hands behind his head, gazing at the ceiling with a faint smile. He wasn't one for small talk, but he found their sparring unexpectedly amusing.

As time slipped by...

"My engagement is a family arrangement; I have no plans to marry her."

The living room fell silent.

Had the girl fallen asleep? Just when he was getting serious, too. Samuel chuckled to himself.

Layla was curled up on the small couch, eyes stubbornly open, unable to sleep.

Eventually, fatigue took over, and she drifted off.

When she woke up, the room was bathed in daylight, and the man was gone.

Layla rubbed her eyes. Was it all just a dream?

But the residual scent of his cologne in the air told her it was real.

After getting ready, Layla went to the office and then to the construction site.

With Molly no longer there, the team's efficiency had improved. Now it was time for interior decoration.

The boutique was to feature a soft-glow tile. Layla reviewed the sample on-site and with satisfaction, declared, "This one's perfect."

"I don't like it, change it!" Isabel marched in with her assistant, her command laced with entitlement.