Chapter 61

All night, Layla was tormented by nightmares, constantly dreaming of being chased by Samuel. She woke up at six, scared and with a splitting headache, taking a long time to calm down as she stared at the ceiling. The restless dreams left her looking somewhat haggard.

Descending the stairs, she didn't encounter the usual sight of Samuel with a coffee in hand, reading the financial news.

"Good morning, Miss Adkins."

"Morning, Mr. Morris," Layla replied with a faint smile, lacking her usual energy.

Mr. Morris poured her a cup of warm milk, "Samuel left for France early this morning."

"Oh," Layla wasn't interested in his itinerary. His absence, however, was a relief.

"Miss Adkins, You're still here, right?" Mr. Morris asked carefully, noticing her pale complexion.

Layla paused, taking a few seconds before bringing the milk to her lips. She had been conflicted.

Not coming back for her work clothes was one thing, but coming back after his warning would be asking for trouble. Yet, even if she didn't return, he would find her and bring her back. The outcome would be the same.

Her delicate face showed a hint of irony, "Do I dare not come back?"

Mr. Morris was taken aback. It seemed they really had argued.

Samuel's domineering nature and strong desire for control clashed with Miss Adkins's love for freedom. Friction was inevitable after spending so much time together.

"Miss Adkins, Samuel is just concerned about you. It's not safe for a student to live alone outside," Mr. Morris tried to explain.

"So many students live outside, he doesn't bring them all home," Layla countered, her mood sour.

"His intentions are good, but that's just how he is. Please be understanding," Mr. Morris said.

"Restricting someone's freedom, no matter the intentions, is wrong," Layla argued with frustration.

Mr. Morris had no response, "I'm truly sorry, Miss Adkins."

Layla softened, "It's not your fault. It's an issue between him and me."

"Let's not talk about him. I'm off to work."

"Mr. Vandella is waiting in the car for you. Samuel specifically left him to drive you to and from work," Mr. Morris added.

...

This was Layla's first time going to work alone in the car, without someone beside her. She felt a mix of relief and unfamiliarity.

Even when Samuel was present, they rarely spoke. It was his formidable presence that made itself felt.

She couldn't afford to care, let alone get used to him.

Arriving at the office, Layla immediately handed her designs to Nathan, who made a few changes.

"You're amazing, director! I couldn't see the issues, but with your modifications, the design improved significantly," Layla said, impressed and in awe.

"As a newcomer, you're already talented," Nathan affirmed. Isabel's pickiness had chosen her design, which was proof enough.

"I have a lot to learn from you."

Nathan smiled, "Lunch together?"

"I've already made plans with Alice to order takeout."

"Really? Or... are you afraid I'll eat you?" Nathan joked with a mischievous grin.

Layla shivered. There it was again, his flirtatious alter ego.

She didn't know how to respond to such an ambiguous question.

"I have many women, but I never mix business with pleasure. You can relax," Nathan said, pushing up his glasses, his lips curving into an enticing smile, "Besides, I prefer voluptuous women, not a young girl like you."

Her features were pleasing, but too innocent for his taste.

Could Layla be relieved he didn't fancy her? She admired him, but that didn't mean she wanted an office romance. Besides, he wasn't interested.

"I'll treat you to dinner some other time."

"Sure."

At lunch, Layla and Alice ordered pasta.

Opening the takeout box, the sweet and sour aroma wafted up.

Layla's stomach churned, and she rushed to the restroom, feeling nauseous.

What was going on? Why did she feel nauseous after eating anything recently? Was her stomach acting up?

"Are you okay?" Alice followed, concerned, resting a hand on her shoulder, "This is the third time. You're not... pregnant, are you?"

Pregnant? Layla's face turned ashen, her expression akin to being struck by lightning.

She shook her head vehemently, "Impossible, I..."

"There's no such thing as a 100% safe method," Alice pointed out.

"Not even with pills?"

"They're mostly safe, but not 100%. I have a friend who got pregnant despite taking them and had to get married. She just graduated and wasn't ready. Now she complains about it every day. I think getting married too early isn't good. I wouldn't have the courage to have a child."

Layla's heart fluttered with anxiety.

She couldn't imagine having a child now, let alone one with Samuel.

Would he make her abort it or keep it?

Swallowing her panic, she forced a smile, "I don't even have a boyfriend. How could I have a child? Don't jump to conclusions every time you see someone feeling sick. Maybe the flavor was too strong."

Changing the subject, she added, "Didn't I say I'd treat you to dinner? Let's do it tonight."

"Sure," Alice's attention was easily diverted by the promise of food, and she didn't press further.

After work, they went to a restaurant.

They ordered chicken wings, steak, roast chicken...

Layla found each dish too greasy, worsening her nausea and worry.

Could she really be... pregnant?

"Try the chicken wings, they're delicious," Alice offered, pushing a plate towards her.

Layla felt sick just smelling them, "You eat. I'm just going to drink some water," she said, eating very little.

Alice finished with satisfaction, "You eat so little, no wonder you're so thin. Delicate, the type that men want to protect."

Across the street was a pharmacy, and Layla couldn't help but glance over repeatedly. She looked, then quickly bowed her head, feeling guilty as if she'd been caught.

"Let's go, I'll walk you to the bus stop."

"No need, I'll go myself. You head back to the dorm."

"Okay, then send me a message when you get home."

They said goodbye.

Layla clutched her bag tightly, mustering courage. She crossed the street but hesitated at the pharmacy's door.

What if... what if she really was pregnant?

But avoiding the issue wouldn't help.

Gathering her courage, she was about to enter with a resigned attitude when a drunk suddenly bumped into her hard. She steadied herself on the railing to avoid falling.

"Layla?" The drunk's bloodshot eyes showed hatred as he grabbed her wrist, "It's you!"

Layla panicked, not expecting to run into a drunken Vincent.

Especially at this time.

What terrible luck!