CHAPTER 9

♥♥♥♥

“Y… ye… ss… NO!”

Layla’s voice trembled through the phone, cracking like glass.

Silence followed. She pressed a hand to her racing chest. You, this woman, control yourself, her inner voice warned sharply.

Lucian frowned on the other end, his voice low, deep, and edged with confusion.

“What are you saying?”

“It’s… Layla Carter,” she managed quickly, her words tumbling together.

“Miss Carter?” His tone shifted—cooler, distant. “Why are you calling me, and how did you get my number?”

“I… Elder Hilton told me to call you here,” she said softly.

Lucian’s brows furrowed. “Where?”

“It’s noon already. I waited for you to pick me up, but you didn’t show up, so I decided to take a cab. I’m at the restaurant now, and the elder isn’t here. He sent his butler instead… and the butler told me to call you. That’s why,” Layla explained in one breath, heat flooding her cheeks in embarrassment.

Before Lucian could reply, the line went dead.

He sat still for a moment, decoding her rushed words. Then it clicked… his promise to pick her up for lunch. He sighed sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and called his driver.

“Pick Miss Carter up from the restaurant. I won’t be able to make it,” he said coldly.

As he dropped his phone, a humorless smile curved his lips.

“What an attention seeker,” he muttered. “She’s aware of everything, yet chooses to play dumb. What a joke.”

He lay back, trying to rest, but the faint trace of a scent…sweet and painfully familiar…lingered in his mind. The echo of an old memory.

Lucian sat up abruptly, eyes darkening. He picked up his phone again and dialed a restricted number.

“Any news?” he asked, his voice clipped.

“No, Boss,” came the deep reply.

Lucian’s jaw tightened; frustration pulsed through him. He ended the call and tossed the phone aside, his knuckles brushing his temple.

“Please,” he muttered under his breath, eyes half-closed, “come to me… my little butterfly.”

♠♠♠

Layla sat in the restaurant for a long while, but it wasn’t Lucian who came…it was his driver.

“Are you Miss Carter?” the man asked politely.

“Yes, I am,” she replied, puzzled.

“Mr. Lucian sent me to take you home.”

Layla gave a small, tired laugh, twisting her lips. “I can go home myself. He should’ve just said he wouldn’t make it.”

“Ma’am, I can’t let you do that. I must carry out the task.”

“You don’t have to worry,” she said gently, already standing. “Maybe some other time.”

Before the man could object, she slipped out and disappeared into the crowd.

She made sure she wasn’t followed before stopping by a small boutique tucked between narrow streets. The bell chimed as she entered. A few minutes later, she stepped out again… her reflection unrecognizable. A hoodie, a cap, and a face mask concealed her completely.

She caught another cab and headed straight to the hospital.

Inside the ward, the sterile air bit softly at her skin. Her daughter lay pale and still, tiny hands resting on the white sheets. Layla’s chest tightened.

She dipped a towel into cool water and gently wiped her daughter’s face. “I’ll do anything to keep you alive,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Stay with me, my beautiful baby.”

Her phone vibrated on the bedside table. An unknown number.

She hesitated, then answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my cutie pie!” came a playful, familiar voice.

Layla blinked, startled… And then her heart leapt. “Amara?”

“Yes! It’s me!”

“Crazy girl,” Layla gasped, tears spilling into laughter. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine, girlfriend! Where are you? We have so much to talk about!”

Layla smiled through her tears. “Coffee shop near the hospital. I’ll text you the address.”

♠♠♠

At the coffee shop, a young woman sat by the window, sunlight dancing across her latte. Her hazel eyes scanned the street eagerly.

Amara Richards.

Layla’s childhood friend. The one torn away from her after the scandal five years ago—when Layla’s pregnancy turned her into a family disgrace.

“Girlfriend!” Layla called as she rushed in.

“Cutie pie!” Amara squealed.

They collided in laughter, hugging tight enough to draw curious glances. Neither cared. For the first time in years, they were whole again.

“When did you get back?” Layla asked breathlessly.

“Two days ago,” Amara grinned.

“How was your stay? Did you love the city?”

“I hated it. But that’s not what I want to talk about.” Her tone softened. “You know what I want to ask.”

Layla’s smile faltered. “I’m fine,” she murmured, but her voice cracked.

Amara reached across the table and clasped her hand. “Should I believe that?”

Layla’s lips trembled. Her eyes glistened, but she forced a weak smile.

Amara stood and pulled her into a hug. “I’m here now,” she whispered.

And Layla broke. She told her everything… her stepmother’s cruelty, her father’s rejection, her daughter’s fragile state, and the forced marriage.

Amara’s eyes flared. “She did that to you? That woman is insane! She could’ve helped without trapping you in this ridiculous marriage!”

Layla smiled sadly. “It’s fine, Amara. It’s my burden. You don’t have to carry it.”

Amara squeezed her hand. “No. I left you once. I won’t do it again.”

********

Later, they went to the hospital together. Amara stood beside the child’s bed, eyes softening at the sight of the tiny figure.

“What’s her name?”

“Zara.”

Amara smiled, brushing her fingers over the girl’s hand. “Zara, sweetheart, your godmother is here,” she whispered tenderly.

Then she turned to Layla. “Let’s talk outside.”

In the hallway, Amara’s face was serious. “What will you do after you get married? Who’ll care for her?”

Layla’s eyes fell to the floor. “I’ll hire a caregiver. I don’t have a choice.”

Amara frowned. “A caregiver? Layla, no. That’s not love. That’s convenience.”

Tears welled in Layla’s eyes. “What else can I do, Amara?”

Amara took a deep breath. “I’m not staying with my parents anymore. I haven’t even told them I’m back. They won’t care what I do.”

Layla narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

Amara smiled… bold, reckless, and full of fire. “Let me be her mother for a while.”

Layla’s eyes widened. “That’s not a good idea. Your parents…”

“They’ve lost all rights over me. They didn’t even ask how I survived abroad. If being a single mother drives them away, then good. It’s time I made up for not being there for you.”

“Amara…”

“I’ll take care of Zara,” Amara said firmly. “Just get this sham of a marriage over with.”

Layla looked at her… really looked at her… and finally nodded, tears glistening in her lashes.

They embraced quietly, two hearts stitched back together by love and promise.