Chapter 213

Was she nothing more than a pitiful creature, a hapless soul born into the lower class, devoid of any influential patrons?

The truth of the matter stung, but it was indeed the reality.

Samuel's harsh words pierced Layla's heart like venom-dipped needles. His insult left her voiceless, her words lodged in her throat as she looked at him. "You're right, I am that person," she finally managed to say. "You knew this from the start, yet you pursued me. You told me it didn't matter, that it was you who..."

But Samuel cut her off mid-sentence, "That was when I still found you fresh and interesting, before I've grown tired of you."

Was he implying that he was now bored with her?

Bored?

The relationship she had held so dear, the one she had considered her life's core, was it all just a game to him?

Despite his words, Layla found it hard to believe that their shared history was nothing more than an act on Samuel's part. She had experienced his kindness, his efforts, and the love he had shown her.

"Samuel, don't treat me like a fool," Layla retorted, her eyes welling up with tears, but her voice was clear and defiant. "Whether you were just toying with me or you truly loved me, I can tell the difference. If you didn't love me, you wouldn't have planned such a lavish wedding, you wouldn't have promised to marry me."

Samuel looked down at her, his eyebrow arched, a trace of contempt in his gaze.

"I haven't married you, have I?" he countered.

His words felt like a dagger to Layla's heart, but she persisted, "Whether you like me or not, I can feel it. I refuse to believe you are just playing with me."

"A man can treat a woman heart and soul as long as he wants to get her," he declared dismissively.

"You're not that kind of person," Layla asserted, her voice firm. "I believe you must have your reasons. What happened during the time you disappeared? Can you tell me, please?" She pleaded, her voice urgent. "Let's figure it out together."

Samuel merely shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "Naive."

"I've made myself perfectly clear. Stop deceiving yourself." With that, he turned to leave.

"I won't break up with you, I won't leave this place," Layla clung desperately to Samuel's sleeve.

"If you like, you can have this villa as compensation. I won't come back," Samuel pulled his arm away mercilessly.

"Samuel..." In her panic, Layla was shoved to the ground, her elbow hitting the cold floor sharply.

Crash-the sound of a plate shattering. The steaks Layla had carefully prepared lay scattered all over the floor.

Layla looked up at him immediately, only to find Samuel indifferent, continuing to walk away without stopping.

Tears once again escaped Layla's eyes.

"Layla, are you okay?" Mr. Morris rushed over to help her.

"Oh... Why does Samuel have to be this way... Why?" Layla choked on her sobs, her tears falling uncontrollably.

In the design department break room, the sound of shattering glass echoed as a mug hit the floor, its shards spreading everywhere.

"Layla, are you okay?" Alice asked in a rush of concern. She saw that Layla's hand was scalded red from the hot water, and her stockings were also splattered wet. However, Layla just stood there in a daze.

"Does it hurt?" Alice inquired.

Layla shook her head, withdrawing her hand.

"What's got you so distracted? What's wrong?" Alice pressed, her worry growing as she took in Layla's worn-out appearance. "Did you even sleep last night? Your dark circles are pretty bad.

"Is it something to do with your wedding? I had an appointment tonight to try on my bridesmaid dress, but the wedding planner called this morning to say the ceremony was called off and I don't need to come. They must have made a mistake, right? Aren't you getting married on the 28th? Why is it suddenly canceled?"

"There's... there's no wedding, Samuel... he wants to break up with me," Layla broke down crying.

"Break up? Why? Is there an issue between you two? Did Samuel misunderstand something about you and Anthony? Getting married isn't a joke. How could Samuel cancel the wedding so hastily? He must have said it in anger, I'm sure. A lot of couples say harsh things when they fight," Alice tried to console her.

Layla shook her head, sobbing, "Samuel doesn't make threats of breaking up in anger. He really doesn't want me anymore. What am I going to do? Alice, I love him so much... I don't want to break up."

"You won't break up. I'm sure you two will get married," Alice reassured her. After Layla had stopped crying, Alice patted her shoulder and said, "If you don't want to break up, then go find Samuel and get a clear answer. It's better than suffering alone."

Within the austere confines of the Holland Group, a cloud of gloom hung heavily over Samuel.

To the casual observer, he might have appeared his usual self, but those who had the misfortune of crossing his path could not ignore the palpable waves of irritability radiating from him. Sensing his foul mood, his colleagues wisely chose to steer clear of his path.

As Samuel emerged from the towering edifice of the company building, Layla was waiting anxiously beside his sleek, black Bentley sedan. Mr. Vandella, a helpless spectator to the unfolding drama, cast a resigned glance at her before turning to Samuel with a weary sigh.

"Boss, Layla is..." he began, but was cut off by a timid voice.

"Samuel, I'm Alice, Layla's friend. I was supposed to be a bridesmaid at your wedding," Alice interjected, summoning the courage to step forward. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribcage, but her concern for Layla lent her a bravery she hadn't known she possessed.

Memories of a time when Layla had defended her against Phillip's bullying flooded her mind, fueling her resolve. "I don't know what happened between you and Layla, but as her friend, I can't bear to see her in such distress. If it's about Anthony... I assure you, it's Anthony who harbors unrequited feelings for Layla. Her heart is yours, and yours alone. Please, don't let this misunderstanding cloud your judgment."

"Alice, this way, please," Mr. Vandella interjected, gently leading Alice away.

Samuel, clad in a stark black suit, exuded an aura of icy aloofness. In stark contrast, petite Layla stood before him, her vulnerability making her seem even smaller.

"You... you're off work," Layla stammered, managing a strained smile. "Samuel, you must be exhausted after such a long day."

She fought to keep her tears at bay, having made a solemn promise to herself not to cry. "I'm sorry for not being more considerate before. I promise to be more attentive from now on..."

"If I had known what a burden you'd become, I would have ended things sooner," Samuel retorted, his gaze shifting away in impatience.

'Don't give up' Layla reminded herself, pinching her finger hard. The sharp pain brought her back to the present.

"I refuse to believe that you were just toying with me. The ring you gave me... it can't lie," Layla said, carefully extracting the engagement ring. Though she hadn't worn it on her finger, she had kept it close to her heart, like a precious talisman.

But Samuel didn't even spare it a glance. "It's just a ring. I can give you one, and I can give something more expensive to any other woman."

"But it's different. It's an engagement ring, and it carries a special significance," Layla insisted urgently. "It wasn't a sham. You proposed to me on the rooftop, remember? The candlelit dinner, the waltz, the breathtaking fireworks display. None of that was fabricated."

"That's just you deluding yourself," Samuel scoffed, his tone dripping with derision.

"I'm not the one living in a fantasy... Samuel, something must have happened to make you treat me this way. Please, tell me, won't you?" she implored.

Without a backward glance, Samuel strode towards the trailer.

"Please, don't go, Samuel. Don't leave me! Please...," Layla's voice cracked as she lunged forward in desperation, her arms wrapping tightly around him from behind.

Samuel's tall frame stiffened, and his hand clenched into a fist at his side.

Reflected in the trailer window was Samuel's face, a mask of suppressed torment, his temples throbbing with tension.