~Axel~
Ever since Layla returned ho that night, she hadn’t been the sa, and I hadn’t been able to figure out why.
She was showing signs of depression, and the nightmares worried more than I cared to admit. Even Erica had co to see her twice, and Layla hadn’t even opened her door.
I sat in my study, deliberately leaving the door open. Every night when the nightmares woke her up, I wanted to be close enough to hear her, to be there for her.
The docunts on my desk blurred as I tried to focus on work, but my mind kept drifting to her hollow eyes, her trembling hands.
My phone rang, breaking the silence and when I started, I recognized the number even though I hadn’t bothered to save it.
"Yes?"
"What’s the update?"
I leaned back in my chair, already feeling the familiar tension in my shoulders. "There’s nothing to update."
"Nothing? It’s been weeks."
"I’ve been dealing with other situations."
"Other situations?" The voice was sharp. "Like what?"
I wanted to say my wife’s family drama, her friend’s mafia crisis, and the fact that she’s involved in a murder investigation. But I didn’t owe him any explanation
"Whatever it is, they are distractions, Axel. You need to stay focused on the plan."
"They aren’t distractions. They’re complications that affect everything."
"Have you forgotten what Charles did to you? Why you married his daughter in the first place?"
I felt my jaw clench. "I haven’t forgotten."
"Then why are you treating her like she matters? She’s a ans to an end, nothing more."
"She’s not just a ans to an end," I retorted, sounding harder than I intended. "She’s my partner in this. We both want revenge against her family."
"Partner?" There was amusent in the voice. "That’s interesting. Has your perspective changed, Axel?"
I remained silent, knowing where this was heading.
"Does your ’partner’ know everything about your arrangent with ? About why you really married her?"
The silence stretched between us, and I could practically hear the satisfaction in his breathing.
"I thought so. She’s not your partner if she doesn’t know the truth."
"The situation is more complex than you understand."
"No, it’s exactly as simple as I made it. You stick to the plan. You forget about everything else. You rember what Charles cost you."
"I rember."
"Good. Now let ask you sothing, and I want a straight answer." His voice dropped lower. "Have you developed feelings for her?"
"No." The word ca out too quickly.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I’m sure."
"Good. Because feelings would complicate everything. And complications lead to mistakes. Mistakes lead to failures. And failure is not an option."
I hung up without another word, tossing the phone onto my desk harder than necessary.
I didn’t want to think about his question. I couldn’t afford to think about it. Feelings were a complication I couldn’t allow, not when I was close to making Charles pay for everything he’d taken from .
But as I sat there in the dark, I had to admit sothing had changed.
I no longer felt the sa burning hatred for Layla that I’d once felt for her father. When I looked at her now, broken and vulnerable, I didn’t see Charles’s daughter. I saw...
I saw the woman who made coffee in the morning while humming softly. The woman who worried about her friend’s safety. The woman who’d risked everything to find the truth about her own family.
What if it was more than that?
"NOOOO!"
The scream from upstairs jolted from my thoughts. I was on my feet and running toward her room before I’d even consciously processed the sound.
I burst through her door to find her sitting up in bed, shaking and covered in sweat. Her eyes were wide with terror, staring at sothing only she could see.
"It’s okay," I said imdiately, switching on the bedside lamp. "You’re safe. It was just a dream."
"No... no, not again," she whispered.
"Whatever it was, it wasn’t real, Layla. I’ve got you."
"It felt real... it was..."
"I know. But that part’s over now."
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the shaking. The sight of her like this, so small, so broken, made sothing twist in my chest.
"Can’t do this anymore."
"Do what?"
"Keep having these nightmares... I-I can’t keep seeing..." She stopped herself, taking a deep breath.
"It’s going to get better. I just wish you could tell what this is about."
"What if they don’t stop?"
"They will. I promise you they will."
I pulled away slowly and stood up, moving toward the door. "I’ll get you so water."
When I returned, she was holding her phone with trembling hands, staring at the screen.
"What is it?"
For a mont, she didn’t say anything. Then without looking up, she dropped a bomb I wasn’t expecting. "My mother is dead."
She said it with almost no emotion, though I could tell she was affected. The flatness in her voice was worse than if she’d been crying.
"What?"
She looked up at , and for a mont, I saw sothing different in her eyes. Not just fear or sadness, but a kind of emptiness that scared more than her nightmares.
"Since when? Who called to tell you about it?"
"No one. I... I don’t know why they haven’t announced it yet."
"How did you know?"
I could see it in her eyes that she didn’t want to answer at first. But she did. "Long story, but... I was there when she died."
I stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. "You were there?"
"Yes."
"Jesus, Layla. When was that? How are you feeling?"
She was quiet for a long mont. "I feel sad. And angry that I’m feeling this way, considering everything that’s happened between us."
I sat down on the edge of the bed. "You’re allowed to grieve, even if your relationship was complicated."
"Is it wrong that part of is relieved? That she’s finally free from whatever was happening to her?"
"No, it’s not wrong."
She held up her phone and dropped another out of the blue bomb. "Daniel wants to et up."
I felt a familiar surge of sothing in my chest that I couldn’t place. What I knew is that it was uncomfortable and I didn’t like it one bit. "Daniel?"
"He sent a text."
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but the thought of her eting with that asshole made my teeth clench. "What does he want?"
"I don’t know. He said it’s important."
"Layla, after everything that’s happened, the murder investigation, your mother’s death, eting with him or anyone connected to your family seems risky."
"I know."
"Then why do I feel like you are considering it?"
"Because I need information. And Daniel might have it."
I studied her face, seeing a flicker of the determination I’d grown to both admire and worry about. "I know you, Layla. No matter what I’m going to say, you’ll want to do your own thing. But please tell you have a plan."
A small smile crossed her face – the first real expression I’d seen from her in days. "I have a plan."
Reviews
All reviews (0)