CHAPTER 7

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"Are you consoling a ghost?"

The low, baritone voice sliced through the stillness. Layla froze, her breath catching. She turned sharply toward the sound…and there he was.

Lucian.

"You should really make a sound when you’re around," she blurted out, clutching her chest as if to calm her racing heart.

"I’ve been here for some time," he replied coolly. "But I can’t seem to concentrate because of your noise. I can’t seem to concentrate because of your…"

He stopped mid-sentence. His gaze had landed on her face…on the faint shimmer of tears.

He tilted his head slightly, his brows narrowing.

Layla quickly wiped her tears, pretending calm. "Something got into my eyes. That’s all. It hurt a little."

"I didn’t ask," he said flatly.

"Yeah, that’s true," she muttered with a small, awkward laugh, trying to mask her discomfort. But when she caught the expression on his face…. stoic, unreadable….her smile faltered.

"I was just wondering why you’re outside," she asked, desperate to fill the silence.

Lucian’s tone dropped an octave, dangerously calm. "Do I need to report my every move to you now, Miss Carter?"

Layla blinked, taken aback by his sharpness.

She forced a nervous chuckle. "Hahaha… how can you make a joke with such a serious face? You’re really talented, I must confess."

His expression didn’t change. Not even a hint of amusement.

"I guess that wasn’t funny," she whispered to herself, cursing inwardly.

Trying again, she softened her tone. "I’m sorry if I sounded rude earlier. I just thought… maybe you came out for some fresh air."

He didn’t reply immediately. His gaze lingered on her….steady, thoughtful.

"Do you always talk like this?" Lucian finally asked.

Layla blinked. "Talk like what?"

"Your voice," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It sounds… familiar."

Her heart skipped. That night.

For a split second, the memory flashed behind her eyes…. the blurred lights of the bar, the heavy breath against her neck, the taste of sin and regret.

She forced a shaky smile. "Yeah? A lot of people say that. I guess I just have a common voice."

Lucian’s expression softened slightly, though suspicion still lingered. "Familiar, that’s all," he murmured, brushing the thought away. After all, a woman like her couldn’t possibly be that girl from five years ago.

Layla’s pulse steadied as relief washed over her.

Lucian turned to leave, but her voice stopped him. “You’re leaving already?”

He paused, then turned around slowly, his lips curling into a faint smirk. He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his breath ghost across her skin.

"Do you want to have me here?" he whispered near her ear, his tone a mix of mockery and heat. "Don’t rush it, little Miss."

Her breath hitched. Words deserted her completely.

He chuckled under his breath and walked away, leaving her trembling in the garden, his scent still clinging to the air.

As the night breeze brushed her cheek, Layla swallowed hard. The warmth of his voice still lingered where it shouldn’t.

It feels the same… as that night five years ago, she thought. But she quickly dismissed it, shaking her head.

“Oh, this man is so arrogant,” she muttered, half-angry, half-flustered. “Arrogant and dirty at the same time. Who does he think he is?”

She sighed and straightened her dress. “Am I really going to marry this man? In two weeks? How am I supposed to live with him?”

She didn’t have the answer. All she knew was that the air still carried his scent…. and that it made her heart race against her will.

**********

Layla returned inside before anyone could notice her absence. The moment she stepped back into the mansion, she found her father and stepmother already seeing the Hiltons off.

“Layla, you’re here,” Margot said, her voice dripping with feigned warmth, masking the disdain behind her smile.

“Yes, Mother,” Layla replied, playing along with the act.

Old Man Hilton turned to her. “See you on the weekend, young lady.”

Layla nodded politely. “Please look forward to it.”

They exchanged a brief smile, though Layla’s eyes flickered toward Lucian. He stood a little behind his father, disinterested and unreadable, his hands tucked into his pockets.

‘Arrogant,’ she scoffed inwardly.

The Hiltons left soon after, their convoy of black cars rolling out of the Carter mansion. The heavy silence that followed was almost suffocating.

Layla hurried upstairs, changed into her casual clothes, and returned to the living room. Her father was seated with a magazine, pretending she didn’t exist. Margot lounged beside him, sipping her tea with smug serenity.

“I’ll be heading back to the hospital,” Layla said softly.

Margot raised a brow, curling her lips into that familiar look of disgust. “You’re going back there tonight?”

“Yes,” Layla answered.

“You mean you’re going back to your bastard child?” Margot sneered. “What if the Hiltons find out? What if you ruin everything before the wedding?”

Layla’s expression hardened. “Whether she’s a bastard or not, it’s no one’s business. And as for the Hiltons… I’ll take care of myself. I won’t get caught.”

Her father lowered his magazine, glaring at her over the rims of his glasses. “How can you be so shameless?” he spat. “You’ve caused enough disgrace for this family, yet here you are, still defying us after we accepted you back!”

Tears burned behind Layla’s eyes. “You never accepted me back, Father,” she said quietly. “You’ve never seen me as your daughter.”

Margot placed a hand on her chest dramatically. “How can you say that to your father?”

Layla almost laughed at the hypocrisy.

“You were never a good daughter!” her father barked, his voice rising. “You slept around with men and had a child of an unknown father! You’ve brought shame to our name!”

Margot’s lips twitched upward in secret satisfaction.

Layla inhaled deeply, her tears slipping down despite her attempt to stay strong. “Fine,” she said, her voice trembling yet firm. “Call me whatever you want. But that won’t stop me from going out tonight.”

“You’re going nowhere,” Margot snapped.

Layla’s lips curved into a cold smirk. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she said, her eyes meeting her stepmother’s.

Margot frowned. “And what would that be?”

“I’m not a child anymore,” Layla said slowly. “I’m a mother. A mother who has to take care of her sick daughter.”

Margot’s face darkened. “A mother? You should’ve dealt with your problems alone.”

Layla’s eyes sharpened. “Nothing in this world comes free, Margot. You, of all people, should know that.”

The tension between them thickened, both women locking eyes with venomous disdain.

“Let her go,” Mr. Carter finally muttered, flipping his magazine open again. “Her being here does no good anyway.”

Layla swallowed the lump in her throat. Without another word, she turned away.

“Don’t let anyone familiar see you there,” Margot called after her.

Layla didn’t look back.

Outside, the cold air hit her face. She climbed into the cab she’d ordered earlier, her reflection in the window faint and tired.

For the first time in years, she’d spoken back to them. To her father. To Margot. She’d never done that before…. not without trembling.

She wondered where the sudden courage had come from.

My daughter, she thought. Maybe it’s her.

But her father’s words echoed in her mind: “Daughter of an unknown man.”

The phrase stabbed at her chest.

Her fingers clenched in her lap as fragments of that night resurfaced… the heat, the blur, the rough touch, the taste of his skin, the faint glint of a tattoo under dim light. But never his face.

“You’re such a fool, Layla,” she whispered bitterly to herself.

Then she smiled faintly. “She’s a precious gift to me… that’s all that matters.”

A thought struck her. She had unfinished business.

Layla quickly changed her destination, asking the driver to head to the bar. She needed to pack her things…and resign once and for all.

When the cab stopped in front of the building, she pulled her hoodie over her head, tucked her hair in, and wore a mask. Her disguise was nearly perfect. She slipped through the staff entrance and began packing her belongings.

Word spread fast…. Madam Suzy, the owner, wanted to see her.

“You called for me,” Layla said as she stepped into the office.

Madam Suzy’s expression was layered with false pity. “Layla, I’m so sorry about what happened the other day. I had no idea he had such intentions toward you.”

Layla stared at her silently, then smiled faintly. Do I look that naïve to her?

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said calmly.

“Really? I’m glad you’re over it,” Madam Suzy replied, relief in her tone. “So, are you resuming work?”

“No,” Layla said. “I’m resigning today.”

“What?” Madam Suzy’s brows shot up. “You’re what?”

“I quit,” Layla repeated.

“You can’t,” Madam Suzy snapped, a smirk forming on her lips. “You have nowhere else to go. Don’t pretend to be strong, Layla.”

Layla exhaled softly. “You’re finally showing your true colors.”

Madam Suzy’s eyes narrowed.

“I have nowhere else to go?” Layla said quietly, rising to her feet. “That’s my problem, not yours.”

Madam Suzy clenched her jaw, her pride wounded.

“Take care of yourself, if you can,” Layla said with a bitter smile, walking out without looking back.

Outside, she greeted the other staff politely, her mask still hiding her face. She was halfway out the door when she bumped into a hard chest…. strong, unyielding.

She staggered, but a firm arm caught her before she could fall.

The air between them stilled.

Layla looked up… and froze.

Lucian.

Her heart dropped.

What is he doing here?! He’s supposed to be at home!

Her pulse thundered as she stared into those blazing green eyes.