Chapter 227

In an unexpected turn of events, the Eilish Group declared war on the Holland Group, sending shockwaves throughout the financial sector of City A. The repercussions of this declaration echoed through the city, leaving a trail of chaos in its wake.

Layla, caught in the crossfire, trembled. She felt undeserving of Anthony's drastic actions and was unwilling to bear witness to the unfolding drama. Yet, amidst the turmoil, Samuel remained unflinching, his silence serving as a cold testament to his contempt.

Fear was a stranger to Samuel, a fact that made Anthony's threats fall on deaf ears. His indifference was as chilling as it was unwavering.

"Mr. Holland," Layla interjected, her voice steady despite the circumstances, "I've made my position clear. I appreciate your assistance in getting me to the hospital. Let's leave it at that."

With those words, Layla drew a line between them, her casual demeanor belying the gravity of her statement. Samuel felt a sudden pang in his heart.

Before he could formulate a response, his body instinctively moved towards her, only to be met with Layla's immediate withdrawal. The realization hit him hard - Layla was afraid of him, she was avoiding him. The thought pierced his heart like a dagger.

Unable to bear the thought of forcing Layla, Samuel locked his gaze with hers one last time before turning away. Layla's body sagged in relief, her face pale and drained of all energy, the blood vessels stark against her skin.

Despite everything, her love for Samuel was still evident. Even Anthony, not the most emotionally perceptive, could see it clearly. His feelings, however, were not of jealousy but of heartache.

Anthony reached out, gently resting his warm palm on Layla's head. He yearned to hold her, to comfort her, but he held back, fearing he might startle her. He was determined to become the man she could lean on, a conviction that bolstered his confidence.

"Don't take what was said to heart," Layla murmured softly.

"I know. But I hope it can come true, and I'll work hard for it," Anthony replied.

Layla wanted to dissuade him, to tell him to let go, but she held her tongue. She was in no state to delve into emotional discussions.

"I apologize for the inconvenience caused by the company's mishandling of the demolition, which led to your injury," Anthony said, his voice filled with regret.

Layla shook her head dismissively. "I'm fine."

"Are you hungry? Let me take you out for something to eat."

"I'm a bit tired and want to go home."

"I'll drive you."

Anthony dropped her off at her apartment, his eyes lingering on the building. "This place is a bit far from the company. Do you need me to arrange another place for you to stay?" he asked gently.

Layla declined his offer. "It's not necessary."

"Alright. If you need anything, feel free to find me at any time."

Anthony knew better than to force Layla to accept him. His plan was to give her time and be there for her as she gradually moved on.

"Rest well, good night."

"Good night."

As Layla ascended the stairs to her apartment, she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Once inside, she leaned against the door, her body sliding down until she was curled up on the floor, holding herself tightly.

The following day at noon, Layla accompanied Susan to a villa.

Located in the heart of the city, the "Willowbrook Estates" was a testament to opulence, boasting top-notch facilities and lush greenery. With a staggering price of $200,000 per square unit, the thousand square unit villa was worth a whopping two billion dollars.

The extravagant lifestyle of the rich was a world away from the reality of the less fortunate. But for Layla, it represented a potential commission exceeding $200,000 - a sum she desperately needed.

Jackson Reynolds, the person in charge of showing them around the villa, led them through the three-story property. As they toured the villa, Layla busied herself with capturing photos on her phone.

"Caleb has arrived," Jackson announced with a note of respect in his voice.

At his words, Layla swiveled around to see a man clad in a sleek black suit entering the room. He towered over everyone present, standing at an impressive height of 6 feet 3 inches. His slender, upright figure seemed naturally suited for the sharp lines of his attire, and his demeanor was commanding.

Caleb bore a striking resemblance to Samuel in temperament. Both men exuded an aura of seriousness and aloofness, their presence radiating a regal majesty that was hard to ignore.

His entrance was like a gust of wind, sweeping through the room and enveloping everything in his powerful aura.

For reasons she couldn't quite fathom, Layla found herself glancing at Susan. She caught a fleeting glimpse of nervousness in Susan's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. With an air of calm, Susan introduced the newcomer. "This is Mr. Caleb, the owner of the villa."

Caleb? The Vice President of the Eilish Group and Anthony's cousin?

In the corporate world, the names Caleb and Anthony were revered, spoken of in hushed tones by the female employees who idolized them.

Layla's mind drifted back to the day she had seen Susan looking anxious in the elevator. Could it be that Caleb was the person Susan had been trying to avoid?

Women were often blessed with a keen intuition, a sixth sense that often proved to be eerily accurate.

But wasn't Caleb a married man? The thought of Susan, a woman of dignity and capability, being labeled as a 'mistress' was hard for Layla to comprehend.

And as for herself, she was no mistress either. The circumstances were complex, and she was certain that Susan had her reasons too.

Despite their brief acquaintance, Layla had faith in Susan's character.

"Mr. Eilish," Layla greeted him with a nod and a smile.

"Mrs. Susan, how are you finding the place so far?" Caleb's gaze skimmed over Layla before settling on Susan.

"We have only seen the first floor."

"Then allow me to show you the second floor," Caleb offered, leading the way upstairs.

"Keep measuring," Susan instructed Layla, patting her shoulder before following Caleb.

Oblivious to the underlying tension, Layla continued with her work. There were certain things she preferred to steer clear of, things that were beyond her control.

"This is the master bedroom," Caleb declared as they entered a spacious room.

Susan estimated that the room, inclusive of the walk-in closet and balcony, spanned about seventy square meters. It boasted the best lighting in the entire villa, and the balcony offered a serene view of the lake where two black swans were entwined in an intimate dance.

"What style do you prefer?"

"You should know best what I like," Caleb retorted, his gaze briefly meeting hers. Susan had been the first woman he had shared everything with, but he had never truly understood her.

Choosing to ignore his comment, Susan asked, "Could you give me a general idea of your preferences so I can select a style that suits your taste?"

"You know my style, unless you've forgotten," Caleb responded, his deep gaze causing Susan's heart to flutter.

Memories came flooding back to Susan. She remembered a time when they were in love, when he had promised to let her decorate their future home. She had expressed a fondness for minimalist Nordic style, and he had agreed, saying he liked whatever she liked because he loved her.

Each memory was as vivid as the day it had happened, each word etched into her mind.

Sometimes, Susan wished her memory wasn't so sharp, so she could forget and not spend countless nights crying in silence.

With a calm expression, Susan replied in a formal tone, "I've encountered owners who handed full authority to the designer but ended up dissatisfied with the style. To avoid such trouble, it would be better if Mr. Eilish could provide me with a general style preference. Or... what style does your wife like? She can refer to that."

Caleb's brows furrowed at her words. He stared at her for a few seconds before turning to look outside, the sunlight somewhat blinding.

He didn't need Susan's reminder!

"Susan, are you being too presumptuous?" Caleb mocked.

"I asked you to decorate because you're a designer. I never thought of continuing any relationship with a woman like you," Caleb taunted Susan, but he couldn't convince himself.

Susan was right. He had properties all over the world, which he always left to his subordinates to handle.

For Caleb, a house was just a place to live because he didn't like staying in hotels. Caleb had too many things to take care of. He didn't waste time on decorating a house. Even the place where he and his daughter were currently staying had remained the same for four years.

Originally, Caleb had planned to sell this house.