'I Do' For Revenge Chapter 2: End Of The Road

~LAYLA~

The thing about sheltered princesses was that they had nowhere to go. Or genuine friends to talk to.

All my friends were socialites who probably witnessed my ltdown and ford their opinion.

I could barely rember the drive back to the Watson estate. I’d called my driver to take ho after I left the reception. My mind was blank, and my body was just operating on instinct.

The grand house was eerily silent and the staff needed not to be told that sothing had gone terribly wrong. They avoided my gaze as I made my way upstairs.

No one questioned why I returned by myself. No one asked why my wedding dress was wrinkled and dirty, dragging on the marble floor.

The mont I stepped inside my room, the weight of everything ca crashing down on . I nervously pulled the veil off my head and looked in the mirror. It felt like a cruel joke.

My mascara was smudged, my lips were shaking, and my eyes looked empty. I dropped onto the bed and curled up into a ball, gripping the silk sheets as if they could keep from falling apart.

But nothing could.

Not when I had been humiliated in front of hundreds of people... millions if I counted the damage the press would do.

Not when the man I had loved and trusted had been sleeping with my sister to the point she got pregnant for him. And then, standing at the altar, he declared he’d loved her all along, like I had never mattered.

Five years.

Five years of my life I’d devoted to Daniel Hart, and in less than five minutes, he’d completely ruined .

A sob broke from my lips. I tried to fight it back, but then ca another, and another until I broke out in tears, shaking with the force of my grief.

How could they do this to ?

I buried my face in the pillow as I let out all the pain. My silent sobs gradually faded until I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open, and I finally fell asleep.

I woke up disoriented to the sound of voices coming from downstairs. A gentle light stread through the curtains and I glanced at the clock on my nightstand.

It was evening as I’d slept through the rest of the day.

My body felt achy and worn out. Then, everything that happened yesterday hit hard, like a punch to the stomach.

The wedding. Daniel. Cassandra.

I shot up, my heart pounding in my chest. The voices around were growing louder: my dad’s deep voice, my mom’s, and Cassandra’s sweet, familiar voice.

Pulling down the zipper, I undressed out of the miserable wedding gown that reminded of how quickly my life had gone downhill. I made sure I looked presentable before heading downstairs.

The mont I walked into the grand living room, I could feel the air around shift. Everyone turned to look at as if I was a stranger.

Cassandra sat next to Daniel on the couch, lightly placing her hand on his. She looked radiant in her pale pink dress; her dark hair was styled perfectly, as if nothing had happened yesterday.

As if she hadn’t destroyed .

My father stood by the fireplace with his arms crossed, his expression hard to read. My mother sat in her usual spot, looking tense but silent.

And Daniel, he barely even had the decency to look guilty.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. "What’s going on?"

Cassandra gave that naive expression that fooled others, not . "Oh, Layla. We were just talking about the union between our families."

I stiffened. "What union?"

She looked at Daniel and then back at , unsure. "After you left, Daniel and I decided to go ahead with the wedding. It was a sha you weren’t there, but...," she shrugged, "everything worked out in the end."

I felt completely shocked, like I’d just been slapped in the face. "What?!"

My breath caught as I looked at my parents. "You went along with this?"

My father sighed, rubbing his temple. "Layla, what happened was quite... unfortunate. But Daniel made his choice. And Cassandra," he glanced at her with approval, "was willing to step up and secure our family’s future. What really matters is the Watson-Hart union, and we got that."

’Willing to step up’ , My father’s words rang in my ears. Suddenly, I felt like I was a spare part. Sothing to be used and then tossed aside. I have given my all to this family and this was how they paid back?

I turned to my mother, hoping she’d take my side. I needed soone to support . But she declared. "Daniel was never truly yours, Layla. Don’t worry, it will be fine."

Cassandra continued, her voice dripping with false sympathy as she subtly rubbed her tummy. "I’m so sorry, sister. I’m truly sorry. But don’t worry, we’d find you another man that would make you happy."

"Wow," I breathed in total disbelief. How had I not seen it all along? My family were truly pieces of shit.

Daniel spoke this ti. "I won’t apologise for following my heart, Layla."

"Fine, I understand." I said, making up my mind. " And I wish you the best." My gaze fell on my parents. "All of you."

To Cassandra, I said. "Enjoy the scumbag."

"Language, Layla," my father cautioned.

But I couldn’t care less about what he thought. Not anymore.

"It’s alright, Daddy, she’s just speaking from a place of hurt. I understand," Cassandra said as she leaned closer to Daniel, a smug glint in her eyes. "She’d get over it."

Oh, I’d get over it, alright.

Without a word, I turned and headed upstairs, my heart racing over the decision I was about to make.

Pulling out my phone, I booked a hotel room in the city centre and grabbed a few essentials to throw into a small duffel bag.

"Where do you think you’re going, young lady?" I heard my father’s stern voice question as I walked past the living room.

"I’m leaving for good."

"Don’t be dramatic, Sister. I already apologized to you, so why won’t you forgive ?" Cassandra said, aggrieved.

"Are you being real right now?" I spat in anger. "You can take your forgiveness to hell."

I turned to leave, but my father’s cold voice stopped .

"Take one more step, Layla, and you forfeit every right to the Watson na. Think carefully before you do this."

I felt my chest constrict at my father’s words. He was willing to go as far as disowning because of my sister. It was then that I knew he never loved . All along, I’d just been a necessary pawn in his quest for more power, and I knew I wouldn’t regret it.

"Very well, father."

I walked out of the Watson estate.

Not a single soul tried to stop , not even my mother. And that hurt more than anything. Sotis I wondered if she ever saw as her daughter at all. I’d lived my life as the perfect child, eting every demand of the family, and still, it was never enough for them.

I expected to feel heartbreak, maybe even grief, but all that echoed inside was silence. Cold, consuming silence.

I reached the hotel and the receptionist gave a key to my room. I dragged myself along, feeling exhausted. It was late already and all I needed was sleep. I needed to close my eyes and pretend, even just for a little while, that none of this had happened.

So I swiped the keycard and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

The first thing I noticed was that this was not the standard room I had booked.

Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the sparkling city skyline, neatly arranged leather furniture filled the spacious living area, and a well-stocked bar shone under soft lights.

This wasn’t just a hotel room; it was a luxurious penthouse suite. I stepped further inside, feeling confused, and that’s when I saw him.

He stood by the bar, half-naked, a towel tied low around his waist, showing his V-line, and leaving a complete view of his sculpted chest and toned arms. His muscles flexed subtly as he poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in his glass.

I barely had ti to process the sharp angles of his face, the tousled dark hair, the faint scars that only made him more dangerously alluring, before my eyes landed on sothing else.

A gun, casually resting on the table beside him.

My breath hitched.

I opened my mouth, but no sound ca out. The man, looking completely unbothered by my surprise, raised an eyebrow and said, "You’re not room service."

I blinked rapidly, my fingers tightening around the door handle. "You... why the hell are you in my room?"

He took a slow sip of his drink before correcting , "My suite."

My stomach dropped.

I looked at the keycard in my hand, feeling my heart beat faster."No, the receptionist gave this key. This is supposed to be my room." I put extra emphasis on "my", as if that would change reality.

The stranger appeared completely calm and relaxed. "Looks like there’s been a mix-up."

I was about to respond when he casually set his drink down, right beside the gun.

My heart pounded.

Taking a cautious step back, I swallowed hard. "Who the hell are you?"

He studied for a long mont, then, with the slowest, most calculated smirk, he finally spoke. "Axel O’Brien."

The na was enough to send shivers down my spine because I knew exactly who he was...

And he was the last man I ever wanted to cross paths with.