Chapter 123

In a setting like this, Holland could only stew in his own frustration, his face etched with coldness as he turned his head away, refusing to witness the scene unfold.

Samuel walked up with Layla in tow and offering a nod to the group, "Good evening."

With an appreciative gaze, John, sporting a distinguished white goatee, remarked, "It's been a while, Samuel. You've grown even more distinguished, the spitting image of your father in his prime."

"Samuel, I've heard you've taken over a few more major companies recently, and The Holland Group has added a quite a few listed companies in Europe. Are you planning to expand your territory there?"

"Indeed, the new wave pushes on the old. Each generation outdoes the last."

"Holland, your son is quite something!"

Holland took great pride in Samuel's professional prowess, but the marriage issue was a constant source of irritation. What was wrong with a powerful alliance? Why insist on this foolish girl? To make matters worse, he had to endure this embarrassment publicly, putting the family name at risk.

After discussing business, eyes turned to Layla. " Won't you introduce us?"

"This is my girlfriend, Layla," Samuel declared firmly, each word carrying intention, capturing the attention of all present.

The faces of the female guests soured with envy.

Samuel had never publicly acknowledged a partner before, not even Nora. This was a first, and at such an important event.

"Whitaker's family? Aren't they the big players in real estate with only one son?"

"Another Whitaker? Didn't their daughter just get married last year?"

"Miss Adkins, what does your family do?" Mr. John inquired.

"I..." Layla glanced at Samuel, who gave a supportive nod.

"My father runs a boxing gym."

"A boxing gym?"

There was palpable surprise among the crowd. To them, even a chain of boxing gyms seemed unsophisticated. Was it possible that Samuel of the prestigious Holland family had turned down the elite Eilish family to bring an ordinary girl into their midst?

"He runs a gym? So, a commoner, then?"

"Below a bodyguard, really."

"No wonder she comes across as so crude and unrefined," the women sniffed disdainfully, their mocking tones slicing through the air.

All the murmurs and mockery reached Layla's ears, but she didn't feel ashamed or beneath them.

Not everyone is born with a silver spoon. Running a boxing gym is a perfectly respectable job that promotes strength and health. There's nothing shameful about it.

"Girlfriend? It's one thing to joke around, but know when to stop," Holland said, his anger barely contained, his expression turning sour."

"I never joke about my marriage."

"Marriage? You two are planning to get married?"

"We're getting married this year," Samuel stated, his tone serious.

"This year? That's less than three months away. Isn't that a bit too sudden?"

He had heard rumors about Samuel and Nora for years but never anything about a wedding. It seemed sudden, and yet so serious!

"When you find the woman you want to spend your life with, why not hurry up and bring her home?" Samuel cast a tender look at the woman he loved.

"Shut up!" Holland slammed the table, his face turning thunderous. "You bring this woman here just to provoke me. Marry her? Over my dead body! As long as I say no, she will never set foot in the Holland household."

His roar made the atmosphere awkward, filled with tension as if at any moment, a battle might break out.

"Come on, Holland, marriage is a cause for celebration, not for picking fights."

"Yeah, let's think this through; no need to flip tables and lose our temper," someone chimed in, trying to smooth things over.

"Since when do I need your permission to get married?" Samuel scoffed mockingly, his chin held high, showing clear disdain for Holland.

However, Holland's loud bellowing only put him at a disadvantage.

"The Hollands still answer to me. You're my son, and you will do as I say! Otherwise, get out. If you want to marry her, you're cutting ties with me completely."

"Calm down, old man..."

Lucy and Jovan exchanged glances, their eyes filled with cunning. They would relish Holland cutting ties with his son - that would leave the Holland Group ripe for their taking.

That bastard doesn't deserve to inherit the Holland Group.

Layla, fearing Samuel would say something irreversible, cut in just as he was about to speak, "Samuel, I'm craving some cake. Let's go have some."

He gave her a piercing look, but she pleaded with her eyes, silently urging him not to continue.

Samuel frowned. He brought her today to declare war on Holland, fearless, but her imploring gaze made it hard for him to refuse.

"Let's go, Samuel. Please," Layla whispered softly.

Samuel's expression eased as he said, "Alright, I'll take you there." With those words, he tightened his grip on her hand and they left amidst a sea of complicated gazes.

Once they were beyond the reach of Holland's fury, Layla let out a silent sigh of relief. "You shouldn't have snapped at your dad like that. He was totally blindsided by bringing me here."

"Did he give me any heads up when he decided to corner you," Samuel chuckled coldly. Today's defiance was, in a way, his retaliation against Holland. He knew all too well that Holland was prideful; his Achilles' heel.

Layla bit her lip, "Your family... they're quite intimidating."

The frosty stares of the other three Hollands could have cut her open. She stood her ground, which in itself was an act of bravery.

"With me here, there's nothing to fear," Samuel reassured her, handing her a slice of cake.

Layla tentatively took a bite and then said, "I'm going to the restroom."

"Scared by a little scene like this?" Samuel teased.

"Absolutely not."

"I'll come with you."

"No need. What would you do at the ladies' room? Wait for me."

"Okay." Samuel stroked her hair and took a sip of champagne.

Layla had just finished up in the restroom when she pushed the door to leave. She was met by a group of heiresses, their pretty faces twisted with envy.

It's often said that women shouldn't make life hard for each other, but the truth is, it's usually women who give each other the hardest time.

Layla intended to ignore them and calmly wash her hands, but they blocked her path to the sink.

"Excuse me," she pressed.

"What right do you have to tell us to move? You don't belong in a place like this," sneered the one in the pink dress, giving Layla a shove.

"Yeah, you're just a disgusting cockroach," the girl in blue dress said with contempt.

"Low-class trash from a boxing family, thick-skinned as a city wall," another taunted.

"You think you're a phoenix just because you wear a limited edition Dior? Better get away from Mr. Samuel, you think you're worth his time?"

Faced with their sharp mockery, Layla wasn't upset; in fact, she found it amusing and couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" Pink Dress glared at her. The girl had expected Layla to be crying and begging for mercy, not reacting like this. It was as if Layla was looking down on them, which was far from what they had anticipated.