~LAYLA~
The mont the double doors closed behind Isabelle and Julian, the air in the dining room instantly beca breathable again.
The Duke sighed, picking up another piece of bacon. "Finally. I thought they’d never leave. Isabelle sucks the oxygen right out of a room, doesn’t she?"
I blinked, surprised by his candour. "She is intense."
"She’s a pain in the arse," the Duke corrected, chewing happily. "And Julian has the personality of a wet napkin. I have no idea how we produced him. I bla his father’s side."
He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and looked at with a hint of mischief in his blue eyes.
"So, Granddaughter. You’ve seen the sharks. Now, do you want to see the tank?"
"The tank?" I asked.
"The estate," he waved a hand. "If you’re going to inherit it, you should probably know where the bathrooms are."
He looked at Pennyworth. "Arthur, get the chair. We’re going on a tour."
—
The tour of Blackwood Manor was not what I expected. I expected a complete history lesson, which he barely gave. What I mostly got was a roast.
Pennyworth pushed the Duke’s wheelchair, while Axel and I walked alongside. We moved through the Long Gallery, a hallway lined with marble busts and grim-looking portraits.
"That’s Great Uncle Barnaby," the Duke said, pointing a gnarled finger at a bust of a man with large mutton chops. "See him? Look at that face. Looks serious, doesn’t he?"
"Very," I agreed.
"He lost a quarter of the family fortune in 1920 trying to breed racing alpacas," the Duke scoffed. "Thought they were the future of horse racing. Idiot. We keep him in the hallway to remind us not to be stupid with money."
Axel chuckled. "I like him already."
We moved to the Great Hall, an enormous room with vaulted ceilings and windows that stretched two stories high. Sunlight filtered through the dust motes floating in the air.
"And that artwork," the Duke pointed to a massive, faded weaving showing a battle. "Pennyworth will tell you it’s a priceless 17th-century depiction of the Battle of Worcester."
"It is, Your Grace," Pennyworth said stiffly.
"It’s a dust magnet," the Duke countered. "And when it rains, it smells like a wet dog. Isabelle thinks it adds ’gravitas.’ I think it adds allergies."
I found myself laughing.
He wasn’t the scary patriarch I had imagined. He was just a grumpy old man who had seen too much and cared too little about what people thought.
As we entered the Portrait Gallery, a room filled with paintings of won in stunning gowns, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out instinctively. It was an urgent email from the marketing team at Eclipse regarding the Q4 launch.
"I’m so sorry," I said, quickly silencing it. "I should have turned it off."
"Nonsense," the Duke said, watching closely. "Answer it if you need to. You have a business to run, don’t you?"
"I do," I said, putting the phone away. "But I’m here now."
The Duke signalled Pennyworth to stop the chair. He turned to look at .
"Isabelle hasn’t worked a day in her life," he said quietly. "She thinks money is sothing that just appears in the bank account, like magic. You actually make it."
"I built my company from the ground up," I said, feeling a spark of pride. "With help," I added, glancing at Axel.
"Good," the Duke nodded. "That’s good. The estate needs that. It needs soone who knows the value of a pound. Or a dollar."
I stepped closer to him. "Your Grace, about that. You know I can’t stay here forever, right? My life, my business, it’s not here."
Axel tensed slightly beside , waiting for the blowback.
But the Duke just sighed, looking at a painting of a young woman in a white drees, my mother.
"I know," he said softly. "I don’t expect you to move into the tower and let down your hair, Layla. You have your own empire."
He looked back at .
"Just give the Ball," he said. "Stay until the announcement in two days. Let formally recognise you. Let secure your place. After that, the world is yours. You can run the estate from the moon for all I care, as long as you don’t let Julian turn it into a golf course."
"I promise," I said. "No golf courses."
"And no alpacas," he added sternly.
"Deal."
We were on our way to the library when Axel’s phone rang.
Axel stopped walking instantly. His relaxed deanour vanished, replaced by the rigid tension of a soldier on alert. He pulled the phone out.
"It’s Tye," he said, looking at the screen. His face went dark.
He answered it. "Yes?... When?"
I watched him, my stomach dropping. Axel never looked rattled. But he looked rattled now.
He listened for another ten seconds, his jaw clenching tight. "Okay. On my way."
He hung up and looked at . The playfulness of the morning was gone.
"What is it?" I asked, stepping toward him.
"Charles Watson," Axel said, low enough so the Duke wouldn’t hear the details. "One of Tye’s scouts spotted him in the city."
"Charles?" I whispered, my blood running cold.
"I have to go."
"But Axel..."
"Now," Axel said. "If I don’t get on this immediately, he could disappear again. Only God knows what he’s planning now." He looked torn, his eyes darting from to the door. "But I can’t leave you here. Not with those vultures."
I took a deep breath. I looked at the Duke, who was watching us with concern. I looked at the grand, cold walls of the manor.
"Go," I said firmly.
"Layla—"
"I can handle two poodles like Isabelle and Julian," I said, grabbing his lapels. "Go do what you have to, Axel. I’ll be fine for two days."
Axel stared at me, then nodded once before kissing hard.
"Russo stays with you," he commanded. "He doesn’t leave your side. I’ll be back before the first dance."
"Just co back in one piece," I said.
He turned to the Duke. "Your Grace, I apologise. There’s an urgent matter I need to handle back in our city. I’ll return as soon as possible."
The Duke studied him, then nodded. "Family ergency?"
"Sothing like that," Axel said carefully.
"Then go," the Duke said. "But I expect you back for the Ball. I won’t have my granddaughter dancing alone."
"You have my word, sir."
Axel turned and strode down the hallway, already shouting orders into his phone.
I stood there, watching him go, feeling the safety of his presence vanish with each step.
"Trouble?" the Duke asked quietly.
"Just business," I said, turning back to him with a smile I didn’t quite feel. "Now, show the library."
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