Control

Layla POV

I pulled it out, my heart already racing.

The caller ID made my blood run cold.

It was Daniel again.

My thumb hovered over the answer button, trembling slightly.

I should ignore it. 

Every logical part of my brain was screaming at me to let it ring, to buy myself time to figure out what to say.

But Daniel had been there for me through everything, he had held me while I cried over my father's grave. Daniel had been the only constant in a life that had fallen apart over and over again.

And I had just vanished without a word.

I finally answered.

"Layla." His voice came through the speaker, rough and urgent, like he'd been running. "Thank God. Are you okay? Where are you? I've been calling for hours."

"Daniel, I'm fine." The words came out steadier than I felt. "I'm at the Cross estate. I told you, I'm—"

"I know what you told me." There was an edge to his voice I had never heard before. "But that doesn't explain why you left with those men. It doesn't explain why you looked like you had seen a ghost when you told me about this. It doesn't explain anything, Layla."

I leaned against the balcony railing, my grip tightening on the phone. "I can't explain right now. It's complicated."

"Complicated." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You marry the heir to the empire that destroyed your father, you disappear into their house, and you tell me it's complicated?"

I closed my eyes, willing my voice to stay level. "Daniel, please. I need you to trust me. Just for a little while, I will explain everything when I can."

"You're in danger." It wasn't a question. "I know you are, I can feel it and I am going to find a way to get you out of there, Layla. Whatever it takes."

My heart clenched. "Don't do anything stupid please. I can handle this."

"I know you think you can," he countered quietly. "But you're not the only one who's been watching the Cross family. I've been doing my own research and I have found things, Layla. Things that don't add up."

I froze. "What kind of things?"

"Not over the phone." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Let’s meet up. Tomorrow night, the old café on Kensington, the one we used to go to after your father's funeral. 8pm."

"Daniel, I can't"

"You can." The desperation in his voice was palpable. "You will or I'm coming to the estate myself, and we both know how that would end."

He was right. 

If Daniel showed up here, unannounced and uninvited, it wouldn't just be dangerous for him. It could unravel everything I was trying to build.

"Fine," I said finally. "I will think about it but know that I don’t appreciate you threatening me or questioning my decisions like this."

"I'm trying to protect you," he muttered, but this time in a high pitched tone.

"I have to go," I said quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow if I can, but if I don’t, you should not even think about coming, at least if you care about me.."

"Layla,"

I hung up before he could finish.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the phone in my hand, my heart pounding.

What had Daniel uncovered?

And more importantly, why hadn't he told me about it before?

—-

Landon's POV

After taking Layla to her room, I had spent my time in my private bar in the house.

The bar was my sanctuary.

Not because I loved to drink, I rarely did, alcohol clouded judgment and judgment was the only currency I trusted, but it was because it was the one room in this house where no one disturbed me.

No Evelyn with her veiled threats and political maneuvering, no Victoria, my step sister with her hungry eyes and calculated smiles. No Xander, my dad, with his disappointed silences that somehow cut deeper than any words.

Just me, the amber glow of the whiskey I wasn't drinking, and the silence.

I had been standing here for some minutes, staring at the ice melting in my glass, replaying the evening in my head.

Layla.

Her name sat in my mind like a stone in still water. 

She had been exactly what I expected, nervous, desperate, too smart for her own good. But there was something else underneath all of that, something I hadn't anticipated.

She didn't break.

Even when I threatened her, when I made it clear she was one wrong move away from disappearing. She held my gaze, she pushed.

I admired that. 

My thought was suddenly interrupted.

The door opened behind me and I didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Ethan."

"How do you always know?" He was already crossing the room, loosening his tie and dropping into one of the leather chairs like he owned the place.

Which, technically, he didn't. But he was the closest thing I had to an equal.

"Because everyone else knocks." I finally turned from the window, my glass still in hand. "And you never do."

Ethan grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was worried, I could tell. I had known him long enough to read the tension in his shoulders.

"You look like hell," I stated the obvious.

"Thanks for that." He leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees. "I have been trying to clean up your mess all evening. You know how hard it is to make a person disappear when half the staff is already asking questions?"

I sat down across from him, finally taking a sip of the whiskey. It burned going down, I needed that.

"Then stop trying.” I shrugged.

“What about the girl?” He suddenly brought it up.

“I already told you, she stays."

Ethan's eyes widened slightly. "You were serious about that? I thought…I don't know, I thought you were just buying time."

"I don't buy time, Ethan. I buy results."

"Landon." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to something urgent. "She saw everything, the man in the cage, the setup, everything. And you want to keep her alive? Why? What use does she possibly have that makes this worth the risk?"

I set the glass down, my fingers tapping once against the crystal.

"She owes me a debt."

Ethan blinked. "What? When did she, wait what debt?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters, you don't do things without calculation, that's literally your thing. Your only thing, actually, so if you're breaking your own rules for this girl—"

"She's my wife." I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to. 

Ethan stared at me. Then laughed, but he stopped laughing when he realized I wasn't joining him.

"You're serious." His voice was flat now. Completely devoid of humor. "You actually married her for real."

"There's a contract with her signature on it." I reached for the whiskey again. "She signed willingly. Which means she's bound to me and mine to deal with."

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his face. "This is insane, you know that, right?"

"I know exactly what I'm doing." My voice was plain. "I always do."

"Do you?" He leaned forward, piercing me with that look he reserved for when I was being an idiot. "Because from where I'm standing, you just took a woman who has every reason to hate your family, brought her into your home, and gave her access to everything. That's not calculation, Landon. That's—"

"Careful." My eyes threw daggers at him.

Ethan held up his hands. "Fine. Fine." He exhaled slowly. "But you need to tell me who she really is. I have been running checks all afternoon, and there's nothing. No record of her before yesterday except some basic identity papers, a minor connection to a corporate scandal that doesn't trace back to us"

"Leave it alone."

"I can't leave it alone." He was on his feet now, pacing. "You asked me to be your eyes and ears, remember? That's my job and I can't do my job if you're keeping secrets."

I studied him for a moment. 

"I know what I'm doing," I repeated, quieter this time. "She's useful, she’s motivated and she's exactly where I need her to be."

Ethan stopped pacing. "Motivated for what?"

I smiled, though it wasn't a warm expression. "That's my business."

"Landon"

"The man in the basement." I changed the subject. "Status?"