Chapter 4

A new house. A new environment.

The gated community was quiet, luxurious in a way that didn’t need to announce itself.

Layla had been delayed on the road, so by the time she arrived, it was already past midnight.

The lights inside were still on.

The moment she stepped through the door, a warm-faced middle-aged woman greeted her with a smile. Behind her stood an entire line of staff.

“You must be Layla. Come in, come in. It gets chilly outside at night. I’ve made some warm ginger-honey tea. I’ll get you a cup.

“We also put the luggage you had delivered earlier into your room. I didn’t open anything since I wasn’t sure about your habits.”

Layla raised a brow. Her luggage contained plenty of personal items.

If someone had opened it without permission, she would have had serious concerns about what Lucas Moore was planning.

“Thank you. And how should I address you?”

“Just call me Mrs. Garner. I’m the house manager here. These three are the chefs who’ll be preparing your meals. They can cook anything you need. And these here handle the cleaning…”

Mrs. Garner held Layla’s hand and introduced every staff member one by one.

At the end, she gave them a subtle signal.

Everyone bowed slightly and said in unison, “Good evening, Miss Spencer.”

Layla almost laughed. “Thank you. It’s late. You should all get some rest.”

“Yes, yes, Layla’s right. Staying up late isn’t good for you.”

After she finished her soup, the staff watched her head upstairs.

Everyone here was kind, almost overly so. Clearly Lucas had given very specific instructions about how she was to be treated.

She didn’t bother shopping in person. She ordered new clothes and toiletries online and had them delivered directly. Even so, by the time she unpacked and organized her things, it was well past midnight.

The next morning came too fast.

Eight a.m. was every working person’s nightmare, but her internal clock had been trained over the years. No matter how late she slept, she still arrived at the office sharp and clear-headed.

Even during her handover period, she didn’t allow herself a single mistake.

As Dylan’s chief secretary, she handled countless matters when he was away. And when he was around, she handled twice as many, especially whenever her sister Lily came to the company.

She hadn’t slept much the night before, but it didn’t slow her down. The dark circles under her eyes, though—those even her makeup couldn’t fully hide.

She looked worn out.

So worn out that when Dylan arrived for the morning meeting, he kept glancing her way.

She had always been beautiful, with clean features and porcelain-fair skin. She rarely wore makeup, just lipstick, and it was enough to turn heads.

Today she had put on light makeup, but her eyes were a little puffy and a faint bluish tint showed beneath them.

It looked like his not coming home last night had really hit her hard.

She had probably stayed up waiting for him.

Dylan unlocked his phone and checked their messages. Not a single text from her.

In the past, whenever he got angry, she would message him nonstop, begging him to come home.

But the last two days, she had been acting stranger and stranger.

He frowned.

Maybe it was the fluctuating hormones.

Layla felt his eyes on her but couldn’t be bothered to care.

All the paperwork was already done. Once the thirty-day waiting period was over, all Dylan had to do was show up with her at the clerk’s office to finalize the divorce.

When the meeting ended, she had just stood up when Dylan called after her.

“Hold on.”

“Is there something you need, Mr. Hall?”

“How’s the apology letter coming along?”

Apology… letter?

Layla blinked. She had spent yesterday filing for divorce, moving out, and cutting every tie between them. His question caught her completely off guard.

Then she realized what he meant.

Of course. This was about Lily.

Layla shot him a chilly look. “Apologize for what? If you want to discuss your personal issues during work hours, you’ll have to find someone else. I’m busy.”

She had work to hand over and projects to confirm.

She didn’t have time to entertain his nonsense.

She walked out without looking back.

And immediately collided with Lily just outside the door.

Lily’s face twisted in irritation, ready to blow up, but the moment she saw who it was and noticed Dylan sitting inside the conference room, her rage shifted into wounded fragility.

She hugged her arms and trembled. “Sis, I brought lunch for you and Dylan. If you don’t like it, you could have just told me… you didn’t have to…”

Her tears fell before her words even finished.

The moment Dylan heard her crying, he rushed out. Without hesitation, he shoved Layla hard to the side.

The force of it slammed her against the wall. Pain exploded across her forehead, leaving her dazed.

“What is wrong with you, Layla? Lily came all this way to bring you lunch, and you treat her like this?”

“When did you become so vicious? You’re targeting your own sister now?”

His accusations came rapid-fire, each one harsher than the last. Layla’s head throbbed under the impact and the noise.

She stared at Dylan, then at Lily nestled safely in his arms.

Lily held nothing but a single lunch box. Claiming she brought food for both of them was a joke. Everyone could see what she was really trying to do.

Layla touched her forehead. A huge lump had already formed.

Her body was still trying to recover from the hit as she leaned against the wall, taking a moment to steady her breathing.

“Dylan Hall.” Her voice was low.

He looked irritated. “Don’t think you can change the subject. You’re apologizing to Lily today. Yesterday I let it slide, and now you’re even more out of control!”

“It’s all right, Dylan,” Lily said softly, tugging on his sleeve like a helpless doll. “Sis is pregnant. Her emotions must be all over the place. Even if she doesn’t like me, I don’t blame her. As long as she feels better, that’s what matters.”

“Lily, you’re too kind,” Dylan murmured, heart aching for her. “Layla has been spoiled by me for too long. She thinks she can treat anyone however she wants. She needs to apologize so she learns her lesson. Otherwise who knows what trouble she’ll cause next!”

He shot Layla a cold look. “You heard me. Go apologize. Stop standing there staring.”

Layla kept watching the two of them, their synchronized performance, their fake tenderness.

And suddenly, she laughed.

“Look at you two, acting like a perfect couple. Anyone who walked in right now would assume you’re the married ones.

“Looks like I’m the outsider here… should I leave?”