Layla Nicole Novels & Stories

He married the wrong woman… and broke the right one. Now she’s back, with the power to ruin him… or make him beg. Seven years ago, Emily Truce dragged a boy out of a burning wreck, then vanished before he ever even saw her face. By morning, her twin sister had stolen the credit… and the life that came with it. Now that boy is Carl Ben, a billionaire bound to marry the woman he believes saved him. But when a crushing family debt forces a last-minute switch, the bride at the altar isn’t Lydia, it’s Emily. The wrong bride. The unwanted wife. From the moment they marry, Carl makes his feelings clear. Cold. Distant. Cruel. He gives his loyalty to a lie and his attention to another woman while Emily fades into a life where she is seen, but never chosen. Until the night everything breaks, she discovers Carl's preference for his matrimonial bed is her twin sister and never her and he confirms it to her face while she laughs at Emily with him buried inside her. That night, she stops hoping… and finally walks away. She signs the divorce papers he has long awaited, secretly pregnant and disappears without a trace. Emily Truce returns no longer invisible, but powerful, remarried in an arrangement to a marriage she once ran from, to a billionaire who worships her. “You'e mine, Emily, let the world burn if it dares touch you, you’ll breathe my love like oxygen for a lifetime" Nicole Ashfort vows. Now Carl Ben is begging, finally seeing the truth: she was the one who saved him. But Emily didn’t come back for love. She came for revenge, Ice-Cold, rich and brutal. And this time, she decides who stays and who she ruins.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.