Layla pressed her hands on Lucius’s chest, stopping her. "I’m still angry with you," she said with a shallow breath.
"Fine. Keep staying angry with ," Lucius said, tilting her head thus burying his face in the hollow of her neck.
However, Layla’s resolve hardened and she again pushed him away. By then, he had slightly pulled away the towel which covered her. "No. We aren’t going ahead unless you understand what it ans to not understand your wife’s concern," she stated and pushed him away slightly.
She almost sat up when in one swift motion, he pinned her back against the mattress, his hands capturing her wrists and pressing them firmly on either side of her head.
The heat of his breath mingled with hers, and she squird beneath him, struggling to break free, but her efforts were in vain.
"Let’s see how long you can resist , Layla," he whispered with a sheer possessiveness in his voice, making her breath to hitch.
"Is this a new way to get my forgiveness? I love you... There’s no doubt in that, but I don’t want you to compromise your health, your well-being. Is that tough to understand, Lucius? Let go if you truly feels you are sorry," she stated.
Those words were enough to make Lucius feel guilty once again. He let go of her wrists and let her move. As she began to leave, Lucius held her hand, thus stopping her.
"It’s not ti to rest. "There’s a storm swirling inside —a rage I can barely contain—at the re thought of soone trying to harm you. I understand your concerns, but I want to catch the culprit as soon as I can. You have no idea what it’s doing to , every second slipping by without knowing who’s behind this. I’m losing my mind, Layla," Lucius proclaid with a tone that she never witnessed before.
"You should get ready. It’s almost breakfast ti," Lucius said, running his fingers through his hair.
Layla watched him for a mont and then went to the closet to dress up.
When she returned to the bedroom, she was surprised to find the doctor carefully wrapping a fresh bandage around Lucius’s arm. Her eyes softened at the sight, but her worry deepened. She waited silently as the doctor completed his task and left with the house butler, nodding politely as they passed her.
Lucius wore the shirt himself, but Layla helped him. "Even I’m losing my mind. I was wondering if Seraphina would do sothing like this," Layla said as she buttoned his shirt.
"I will go and check on her in the prison," Lucius asserted and tucked his shirt inside his trousers.
"I don’t want to see her. She disgusts ," Layla murmured.
"Well, I don’t want you to see her," Lucius stated. His hand cupped her face and his thumb rested under her chin as he lifted it. "Don’t be angry with , Layla. I’m standing here in front of you, and I’ve promised you this—nothing like this will ever happen again."
Layla hugged him, her head rested against his chest as she heard the gentle beats of his heart. "I know. You are my only family, Lucius. I am just an ordinary woman who wants just a normal, happy life with you," she stated.
Lucius just wrapped his arm around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.
~~~~~
Orabela stared at the ssage on her phone from Canvin, her lips tightening as she debated whether to ignore it. Finally, she called him, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Why weren’t you answering my calls?" Canvin’s voice ca through filled with irritation.
"Because I was busy," Orabela replied curtly.
"What work could a free person like you possibly have?" Canvin chuckled mockingly, his words dripping with sarcasm. Before she could retort, he added, "Are you the illegitimate daughter of the Rosenzweig family?"
Orabela froze for a mont, her breath catching in her throat. She steadied herself before speaking. "Why do you want to know?"
"Well," Canvin began, his tone lighter now, almost taunting, "I heard this rumor from soone. Funny thing is, I thought Layla, your half-sister, was the illegitimate one."
Her fingers tightened around the phone as a cold anger simred beneath her calm exterior. "Can you tell where you heard such a rumor?" she asked.
"Why don’t you just answer my question first?" Canvin countered, his patience was turning thin.
"Yes," Orabela responded. "I am the illegitimate daughter of the Rosenzweig family. But tell , Canvin," she continued sharply, "you were so eager to marry —didn’t you already know that? Or were you hoping for so other scandal to make this more interesting for you?"
"Shut up. We’re not marrying anymore," Canvin said coldly. "I have no intention of marrying a woman whose mother is locked up in prison for an attempted murder charge."
Those words struck Orabela like a blade to her already wounded heart. She opened her mouth to retort, but the call abruptly disconnected from his side, leaving her staring at the blank screen.
Her grip on the phone tightened before her lips twisted into a bitter smile. Then she snickered, the sound hollow, before bursting into laughter that carried no joy.
"I’m glad he ended this arrangent himself," she muttered under her breath, her voice quivering. But as the laughter faded, a heavy silence settled over her, and the reality of her situation deflected finally.
Deep within, fear began to claw at her. One by one, people were abandoning her—not because of anything she had done, but because of the title she now carried. Illegitimate daughter. Daughter of a criminal.
A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, until they flowed freely. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. This ti, unlike all the others, there was no one to offer her comfort, no one to tell her it would be okay.
And for the first ti, a painful realization dawned on her. She had done the sa to Layla. She had treated her half-sister as if she were nothing, constantly humiliating and deaning her. Now, Karma had co back, striking her in a way she had never anticipated.
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