"Boss, we’re ho," Roger said as he lightly nudged Lucius’s shoulder.
Lucius stirred from the brief sleep, opening his eyes groggily. He fumbled with the seatbelt before Roger leaned over to help him. Together, they stepped out of the car, Lucius swaying slightly as he straightened up.
"I can walk," Lucius muttered, brushing Roger’s hand off as he began to ascend the stairs.
When they entered the house, Lucius’s gaze imdiately landed on Layla. A rare smile curved his lips as his eyes softened.
Yanking Roger’s supportive hand away, Lucius’s voice bood through the living room, loud and carefree, "Layla!"
Like an overgrown child, he stumbled toward her with a cheerful grin, his arms outstretched.
"Boss, be careful!" Roger called out, hurrying behind him in case Lucius lost his balance.
Layla turned, her face lighting up at the sight of her husband. But as he approached, she noticed sothing off—the clumsy gait, the exaggerated smile. When he finally embraced her, the sharp scent of alcohol hit her, confirming her suspicions.
"Lucius..." she murmured, concern flashing in her eyes.
Before she could say more, Roderick’s chuckle broke through the mont, his voice laced with mockery. "Uncle, back to your old habits, I see. Your wife paints you as an ideal man, but your actions scream otherwise."
Lucius pulled back slightly from Layla, his expression shifting as his gaze turned to Roderick. Yet instead of anger, he let out a sly smile.
"You fell into my trap the mont I sent Orabela to your room," Lucius said. "That’s when Layla beca mine. She’s mine, Roderick. She’ll never be with a player like you."
The room fell into a stunned silence. Roger’s eyes widened in shock, panic creeping in as he realized what had just happened. Lucius had spilled a truth that should have remained buried, and he’d done so in the worst possible mont.
Layla’s face drained of color, her mind struggling to process what she’d just heard. While Roderick’s smirk faltered, replaced by a look of disbelief and anger.
"You... what?" Roderick’s voice was filled with both rage and incredulity.
"Lucius, let’s go to our room. It’s already late," Layla said softly. The last thing she wanted was for things to escalate further.
Roderick looked at her, his brow furrowing. "Layla, did you hear what my uncle just said? He—"
"I know already," Layla interrupted gently, her eyes eting his.
Lucius leaned his head on Layla’s shoulder. Layla stepped closer, draping his arm over her shoulder. With her arm securely around his back, she began guiding him toward the stairs.
Roger, who had been silently watching the tense exchange, took a step back. "I should take my leave," he mumbled, fleeing the scene before Roderick could stir up more trouble.
~~~~
Once inside the room, Layla guided Lucius to sit on the edge of the bed. She carefully removed the long coat he had worn, folding it neatly before placing it aside.
"Why did you drink?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern.
Lucius looked up at her with his flushed cheeks and childlike expressions. "Don’t be angry," he pleaded.
Layla tilted her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do I look angry?" she asked.
Lucius studied her face for a mont before nodding, a faint hum escaping his lips. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, resting his head gently against her belly. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and his eyes fluttered shut.
"Don’t hide anything from , like everyone else does," he murmured, his words muffled but laced with vulnerability.
Layla’s brows knitted together in confusion. What had happened to bring him to this state? She placed her hand on his head, her fingers weaving through his hair in a soothing motion.
Her voice was soft when she finally spoke, "Lucius, why would you think I’d hide sothing from you?"
He didn’t answer imdiately, only sinking further into the comfort of her presence. Layla sighed, her other hand resting lightly on his shoulder as she continued to stroke his hair.
"Demitri did," Lucius murmured, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Matteo asked him to do sothing, but he didn’t tell . He kept it from . They both... they’re not my friends. They both kept in the dark."
His eyes remained closed, but tears began slipping down his cheeks, dripping onto the floor mat. The quiet sound of his sobbing reached Layla, freezing her in place.
It wasn’t until she heard the soft, broken sob that she realized he was crying.
"Lucius..." she whispered, her voice trembling. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees in front of him, gently taking his tear-streaked face into her hands. His sorrow was etched deeply in his features, his pain raw and exposed.
Her breath hitched at the sight. "Why-why are you crying?" she asked, her voice quivering as she brushed his damp cheeks with her thumbs. She moved to sit beside him, pulling him close in an effort to comfort him.
Lucius didn’t reply imdiately, his body trembling under the weight of his emotions. Layla wrapped her arms around him, resting his head on her shoulder.
"Tell ," she urged softly, her heart aching as she held him. "Please, Lucius. What’s troubling you this much?"
She could feel his pain as though it were her own, and her only wish was to ease the burden he carried.
"I was foolish to believe I actually had friends," Lucius said, his voice heavy with despair. "I was in the dark for years. I doubt... I doubt everyone around has kept secrets from . And those secrets—sowhere—they involve ." He paused, his breath hitching. "I-I don’t wish to live such a life."
Layla’s heart clenched painfully at his words. She had seen Lucius endure countless battles and challenges, but she had never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so broken. The strength he always carried seed to crumble before her eyes, leaving him exposed in a way she didn’t think was possible.
Her own eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she didn’t let them fall. Instead, she tightened her embrace, her hand gently stroking his hair in a soothing rhythm to calm him down.
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