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A name, not a home

Penulis: Leelee
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-05-06 17:37:51

Layla's pov

I stood outside her office door, the journal clenched in my hand like a weapon.

When I burst through the doors of her private office, her assistant gasped. “Miss Monroe, you can’t just—”

But I didn't pay any attention to her, I just walked into her office.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Everything felt sharp—too bright, too loud.

My mother sat at her desk, poised as ever, flipping through papers like the world wasn’t on fire. Like she didn’t destroy mine.

She looked up when she saw me.

I didn’t answer. I walked straight to her desk and dropped the journal in front of her.

The moment her eyes fell on it, her face changed. The calm mask she always wore cracked.

“You read it,” she said softly.

I stared at her. “You lied to me my entire life.”

Her hands trembled as she pushed the journal aside. “Layla, please—”

“No. Don’t please me,” I snapped. “Tell me the truth. All of it. Right now.”

She stood slowly, as if the air had thickened around us. “This
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  • A Love Forged In Ruins    Damage control

    Layla's pov The days that followed the gala felt like a slow-motion collapse.What was supposed to be the shining start of The Amara Initiative had turned into a battlefield strewn with accusations, headlines, and a creeping sense of betrayal. My phone buzzed non-stop—texts, emails, social media alerts. Each one felt like a dagger, landing in the softest parts of me.The screen lit up with screaming headlines:"Mentorship Mirage: Allegations Mount Against The Amara Initiative.""Layla Blackwood Accused of Tokenism and Favoritism.""From Fashion Icon to Fraud?"I sat on the edge of our bed, knees drawn to my chest, scrolling endlessly until my eyes burned and the words blurred. My phone, once a tool of empowerment and celebration, now felt like an executioner delivering blow after blow.Damian stepped into the room, two mugs of coffee in his hands. He hesitated when he saw me—curled, quiet, not dressed. I was still wearing the same oversized tee from the night before. I hadn't brushed

  • A Love Forged In Ruins    #AmaraExposed

    Layla's pov The ballroom glowed beneath cascading chandeliers, their golden light dancing across mirrored walls and soft velvet drapes in hues of deep plum and champagne. Laughter mingled with the clinking of crystal glasses. A live quartet played a slow, elegant melody, one that soothed the buzz of nerves crackling just beneath my skin.I stood beside Damian, our hands barely brushing—a calculated pose we’d rehearsed a hundred times. The photographer, crouched before us, barked gentle directions.“Closer. Smile, but not too much. Look natural.”Click. Flash. Click.“You did it, Layla,” Damian whispered against my ear, his voice like velvet and steel.I turned, my lashes fluttering. "No. We did it."His smile deepened, a rare softness crossing his features. “Damn right we did.”The Amara Initiative had started as a stubborn dream, scrawled in notebooks and whispered late at night. Now it stood tall in this gilded ballroom—alive, breathing in every guest who floated by in designer gow

  • A Love Forged In Ruins    House Of Amara

    Layla’s POVThey say healing isn’t a straight line.They were right.Some days I woke up feeling light, like I could breathe again, like the weight of betrayal and anger had finally lifted. Other days, it came back—quiet and heavy, settling in my chest like fog.But every morning when I opened my eyes and saw Damian beside me, I reminded myself: we survived. That had to mean something.Today, though, we were rebuilding—not just our lives, but us. The version of ourselves that had been chipped away by pain and pride.We sat across from each other at the long table in his office, stacks of paper between us. But it wasn’t about legal documents or contracts anymore. This time, we were building something together—a new business venture, something honest and clean.And personal.“I was thinking we could name it after your grandmother,” Damian said, flipping through design proposals. “Didn’t you say she taught you how to sew?”My chest warmed. “You remember that?”He looked up. “I remember e

  • A Love Forged In Ruins    Love Without Fears

    Layla’s POVI used to think revenge would make me feel powerful. That if I exposed every lie, every betrayal, I’d somehow feel whole again.But now that the dust had settled, all I felt was… tired.Not just physically tired, but tired in the deepest part of me. The kind of tired that no sleep could fix. The kind that only comes from carrying pain for too long.I sat alone in the garden behind Damian’s penthouse. It was quiet there—no sirens, no city noise, just the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic far below. The sky was a fading blue, melting into the soft oranges of sunset.I held a journal in my hands—blank pages that had once terrified me. I used to fill them with rage, heartbreak, confusion. But now, I wasn’t sure what to write.The truth?I was finally starting to see that revenge had never really been the answer.It had given me justice, yes. It had stopped the people who hurt me, exposed their schemes and lies. But it hadn’t given me peace. Not until now.I

  • A Love Forged In Ruins    Just Us

    Layla's pov The paper in Damian’s hand was just that—a single, ordinary sheet of legal print. Cold. Simple. Straight to the point.But it changed everything.He stared at it in silence, standing in the middle of the living room, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the signed and stamped restraining order. I watched him from across the room, my heart heavy and hopeful at the same time.He didn’t speak for a long time.I didn’t rush him.I knew what that paper meant to him.“It’s done,” he finally said, his voice low and tired. “They can’t come near us again. Neither of them can.”Alexander and Isabel—. Two names that used to carry so much weight. Two names that had haunted Damian for a long time. But now, the legal system has placed a wall between them.And maybe, just maybe, that wall would give us the chance to breathe again.I stood and walked over to him. “How do you feel?”He let out a slow breath and looked down at the paper again. “Like I should feel free.”“But you don’t

  • A Love Forged In Ruins    Love after war

    Layla’s POVThey were escorted out in silence. The doors closed behind them, and the room was finally still.I sat down slowly, my legs too weak to stand. My hands were still shaking, but I felt...lighter. Like a storm had passed through me and taken everything with it.Damian came to my side, gently pulling me into his arms.“We did it,” he whispered into my hair. “It’s over.”I let myself fall into him, the tension melting away in slow waves. My throat tightened, and I didn’t stop the tears that came. Tears of relief. Of exhaustion. Of justice.“You were incredible,” he said. “You held your ground.”“So did you,” I whispered. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”He kissed my forehead. “We’re safe now. Blackwood is safe.”The city stretched out beyond the glass, glowing under the darkening sky. For the first time in weeks, I could breathe. Truly breathe.“They’re going to prison, aren’t they?” I asked.“Yes,” he said. “And everything they tried to destroy—we’ll rebuild it. Strong

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