Chapter 112 Why Not Join Me?
At the airport.
A figure strides out like a thunderbolt, capturing everyone's attention with his tall stature and handsome face, eliciting gasps of admiration.
"Such a gorgeous man!" the women sigh, hearts fluttering.
But Samuel's face is tense; he moves swiftly through the crowd.
"Boss." Mr. Vandella rushes to meet him. "I'm sorry, I failed to protect Miss Adkins, I—"
"This isn't the time for apologies. Is she still missing?" Samuel asks, his voice cold and urgent, yet under control.
"Yes, we've launched an extensive search, but there's no news yet."
"What about the Hollands?"
"People are watching the old man. He's been at home, nothing unusual."
Samuel pauses mid-step—Jovan!
A cold glare flashes across his eyes, a hint of a lethal edge.
"See where Jovan was last seen."
Mr. Vandella is taken aback. "You mean... the second son?" He never suspected him, but grasps the boss's wisdom immediately.
Samuel nods. It's better Layla is with Jovan than fallen into the Hollands' hands—he doubts Jovan would dare harm her.
But the thought of her suffering clenches his heart with worry and pain.
"Since she's switched cars twice, she won't be far. Start from the site of the incident and search within a 200-kilometer radius. We will turn over every stone if we have to, but we'll find her."
"Yes, boss."
...
That night.
"Sir." The bodyguard pushes open the door.
Inside, another bodyguard stands stoically by Layla, who is handcuffed in the corner. Her face seethes with anger but she doesn't struggle, glaring at Jovan with piercing eyes.
"She hasn't made a fuss?" Jovan eyes Layla, still smarting from the kick she gave him.
It had hurt for two hours.
If she had kicked harder, he thought he'd throw her from the third floor in a heartbeat.
"Yes, sir, she's been quiet, hasn't said a word," the bodyguard confirms.
Jovan steps closer to Layla, noticing her slight shiver, her body trembling but feigning composure.
"Why aren't you fighting back? Weren't you quite the spitfire before?" Jovan nudges her with the tip of his shoe.
Layla frowned, feeling as shackled as a prisoner. What was the point of resisting? It would only inflict more pain upon herself.
The situation now was different from before; she was pregnant. She had to tread carefully around the man before her, to avoid provoking him.
As he derisively called someone an "illegitimate child," she pieced together that he must be Samuel's older brother, the former President of The Holland Group—Jovan. Knowing this, she felt oddly reassured.
Samuel would surely come to save her.
And her job was to stabilize the situation until Jovan could come to her aid.
“Do you really think I could escape with all you guys watching me? Just uncuff me,” Layla grumbled, rattling her handcuffs.
Jovan let out a derisive chuckle and took his seat, casually crossing his legs.
One bodyguard handed him a cigar, another lit it for him.
He lounged in his chair with the carefree attitude of a mob boss, yet exuded the elegance of aristocracy. His face, a mix of jest and danger, bore a smirk that was both cunning and malevolent.
“You all think I’m a flight risk?” she complained, the handcuffs biting painfully into her skin, her whole arm sore. If they kept her cuffed any longer, her wrists would be raw.
“Oh? Did your little ‘friend’ never introduce you to handcuffs? Boring. Should've gone with me; I’d make sure you never wanted to stop,” he teased, the innuendo heavy in his tone.
Layla wanted nothing more than to spit in his face.
“Not everyone is as twisted as you Hollands!” she shot back.
“Ah, clever girl, knowing who I am,” Jovan let out a derisive chuckle and took his seat, casually crossing his legs.said, blowing a smoke ring her way and squinting his narrow eyes. “So you’re waiting for that bastard to rescue you? No wonder you’re not resisting. Smart move—saves you some trouble.”
The more she fought back, the more he seemed to relish in tormenting her.
“My bloodline is much purer than his. Why don't you join me? Don’t be fooled by his current CEO facade; in reality, he’s just a dog of the Holland family. My father is only using him. Eventually, The Holland Group will be mine. If you're obedient and please me well, I might even get sick of you later rather than sooner."
Layla just smiled at his words, “With you, I fear I wouldn’t last long.” The very first time they met, she had nearly died at his hands.
"But staying with him, I can take your life right now."
Layla didn’t see it that way. If he really wanted to kill her, he would have done so already.
After all, He wasn't like Holland; Holland could act without regard for consequences, But Jovan cannot help but be wary of Samuel. She is quite certain of that.
"If you think you can just marry into the Holland family by virtue of your child, you're dead wrong. That bastard's mother still hasn't made it into the Holland family, let alone you. My father is a ruthless man; he'll find a way to take you out."
"As for that bastard, you think he's anything worth mentioning? He and his mom have been on the run for over twenty years. My brother took pity on him and tracked him down in America, but ended up dying in a car accident, while that bastard survived. If they hadn't switched seats midway, it would've been him who died. You sure somebody who can do that would care about whether you live or die?"
Layla had heard about this from Vincent.
She might have doubted whether Samuel was a murderer before, but not anymore.
"Being in the same accident doesn't imply he caused it. Perhaps someone was trying to kill two birds with one stone. Who's the most likely suspect?" Layla's gaze fell on Jovan, pointedly.
Jovan's hand, holding a cigar, paused imperceptibly, "Did that bastard tell you that?"
"He didn't mention anything; it's just a logical guess. After all, if both of them had an accident, it's clear who stands to benefit the most."
Layla wasn't particularly keen on guessing. She wasn't a cop and couldn't convict Jovan. Besides, if he had done it, he would've made sure to cover his tracks. Otherwise, he would have already taken action.
"Don't jump to conclusions; they could get you killed." Jovan forcefully put out his cigar and stood up, approaching her.
Layla stood her ground, refusing to step back.
Jovan crouched down, lifting her chin with his hand.
She met his stare directly, without flinching, fear visible in her eyes, but not a trace of cowardice.
She was the first person to ever dare look him straight in the eyes like this, especially at only twenty. Emily, on the other hand, didn't pose the slightest challenge when he took her; it was all too easy and utterly dull.
He had kept her around for a few years solely because she was obedient, served him well, and had once been with Samuel.
Yet, this bright-eyed and stubborn girl aroused his interest much more.
Jovan's eyes assessed her with a hint of intrigue, and after a few seconds, he finally released her, "Let her go."
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