"Uncle, if that’s the case, you should show your worst side," Roderick challenged Lucius. "Do you really think Layla is safe with you? I was willing to make ands for my mistakes, but you ruined everything," he spat bitterly with an unrestrained anger in his voice.
Their heated exchange was interrupted when Layla, who had overheard part of the conversation, stepped fully into the room, pushing the door open. Her unexpected presence silenced both n as they turned to look at her. Roger hesitated before following her inside.
"You’ll be discharged within an hour," Layla inford Lucius. "The reports ca back favorable," she added, her gaze briefly settling on him.
"I told you I’d be leaving by this evening," Lucius said with a small smile, trying to diffuse the tension.
"I also spoke with Father," Layla continued, ignoring his attempt to lighten the mood. "He’s waiting for us at ho," she announced, gently taking Lucius’s hand in hers.
"What?" Roderick blurted, unable to hide his disbelief. "I thought Uncle didn’t like living with us," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Layla’s lips curved into a mocking smile. "That’s not true. My husband chose to live alone in a separate mansion because of soone," she said pointedly as her sharp eyes shifted to Roger.
"Roger, could you please help Lucius change out of his hospital clothes? I’ll pack up the rest of the things here," Layla requested, her voice steady but firm.
"Of course!" Roger responded quickly, eager to assist. He moved to Lucius’s side, helping him off the bed and guiding him toward the changing room.
As the door closed behind them, Layla turned to Roderick, her expression hardening. "Roderick, you’re utterly pathetic," she began coldly. "Get ready to be ruined by my hands. I’m withdrawing from the project I agreed to partner with you on. Now, leave my sight—your face alone makes sick," she declared with a steely glare, her words cutting through the air like a blade.
Roderick narrowed the gap between them in a flash, his hand reaching toward her throat. He stopped just short of touching her, his fingers hovering nacingly. Then, he let out a dark, mocking chuckle.
"One day, you’ll regret not listening to ," he said, his voice low and threatening. "I’d love to see how you plan to ruin . Just be careful not to destroy yourself in the process. Everyone who stands by my dear uncle’s side eventually disappears." His tone was laced with venom. With a final smirk, he stepped back and exited the room, leaving her standing in quiet defiance.
Layla swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She quickly typed out a ssage, her expression unreadable, before slipping the phone back inside.
"Mrs. De Salvo, here’s the docunt you need to sign," the nurse’s voice broke through her thoughts. Startled, Layla turned and took the pen from her.
"Thank you," she said, forcing a polite smile as she signed the docunt.
Just then, the door opened, and Demitri walked in, holding a small bouquet in his hand. He nodded at the nurse, who gave him space and exited the room.
"Where’s Lucius? I’m sorry I couldn’t co earlier," Demitri said, his tone apologetic but slightly preoccupied. He chose not to ntion that he’d been investigating sothing Zayne had shared with him.
"I’m here," Lucius answered as he stepped out of the changing room, looking considerably better than before.
Demitri imdiately moved to his side, his eyes scanning Lucius’s right arm with concern. Without a word, he extended the bouquet toward him.
"This is for you," Demitri said simply.
Lucius accepted the bouquet with a faint smile. "Thank you," he replied, holding it carefully. His sharp gaze softened slightly as he studied Demitri. "But it seems like you need rest more than I do. You look worse off than ," he quipped lightly, trying to ease the tension.
Demitri let out a small chuckle, though the exhaustion in his eyes revealed his sleepless nights. Without a word, he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Lucius’s neck in a firm, brotherly hug. "I’m glad you’re okay," he murmured before pulling away. His voice carried a hint of relief that couldn’t be disguised. "You should take so ti off from work."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I doubt my wife will let work anyti soon," he remarked, glancing at Layla. She t his gaze with a soft smile.
"That’s for the best," Demitri agreed with a nod.
Lucius’s tone turned more serious as he said, "Go ho and get so rest yourself. We’ll talk on the phone later." Though his words were few, they carried genuine concern.
Demitri hesitated, his gaze lingering on Lucius with an unspoken worry. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. "Just take care of yourself," he finally said. With a final glance at Layla, he added, "I’ll head out first."
After Demitri left the room, Lucius made his way back to the bed.
"Roderick left?" Lucius asked, his tone casual but curious.
"Hmm," Layla affird with a nod. "You don’t need to explain anything to him anymore. He’s not a child and has his own brain," she said firmly.
Lucius paused for a mont, realizing she must have overheard his earlier conversation with Roderick. He decided to steer the discussion away from that topic.
"Dad won’t let us leave the house once we step inside," Lucius remarked, attempting to shift her focus.
"That’s good," Layla replied without hesitation.
"We might get disturbed there," Lucius said, testing her resolve.
"How?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Well, we’re newlyweds," he replied with a faint smirk, his voice tinged with mischief.
"We’ll have a separate room," Layla countered, her tone unwavering. "And don’t try to convince not to go there. I won’t listen to you this ti. Do whatever you want after you’re fully healed, but for now, listen to your wife silently," she stated firmly, crossing her arms.
Lucius stared at her for a mont, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile at her determination.
"I think Boss should listen to his wife," Roger chid in with an amused grin.
Lucius frowned at him, but stayed quiet. "Alright, Wifey. I’ll follow your command," he affird.
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