Chapter 13 Fate?
Layla's mind raced, and she quickly came up with an idea. "If you don't agree, I'll tell everyone you're a sex worker."
He was being too much, so she had to fight fire with fire.
She was seriously threatening him.
Samuel, a man with a high tolerance for humor, had a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. He said, "Looks like this will be our little secret."
What little secret? The way he said it gave her goosebumps.
However, it seemed to have worked for now, and she secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Layla asked, "Are you scared now?"
Samuel had lived for thirty years and didn't even know what fear was.
This naive girl thought she could threaten him.
Layla pushed him away. "Stay away from me." His presence was so overwhelming that she could hardly breathe.
It was unbelievable that a sex worker excluded such a powerful aura. Anyone who didn't know would think he was a domineering CEO.
Layla was just about to squat down to pick up the design drawings scattered on the floor when she noticed that one of them was under Samuel's foot.
Layla remarked, "Move your foot."
The very expensive-looking shoe stayed put.
"Move it." Layla squatted by his feet, looking up at Samuel's chiseled jaw. Every angle of his face was perfect, and he was strikingly handsome.
The distance between them suddenly felt vast, as if he were an unattainable god.
A chill ran through her heart. Only then did Samuel move his foot.
Layla picked up the drawing and dusted off the corner.
She struggled to lift two large boxes of drawings, almost stumbling.
Samuel instinctively wanted to help her, but Layla immediately dodged.
She was petite but strong-willed. The boxes reached her nose, heavy as they were. Could she really carry them?
As the elevator arrived, Layla struggled to carry the boxes out onto the twentieth floor.
The elevator doors slowly closed, and her slender yet stubborn figure disappeared.
Samuel pressed the button for the top floor, his playful look fading into cold arrogance. He took out his phone and ordered in a deep voice, "Meeting in ten minutes."
In the afternoon at the office, Layla placed a meticulously organized set of design drawings in front of Molly.
Layla said, "These are the design drawings for the company's premium projects over the past two years."
She had completed all ten assigned tasks in chronological order without a single mistake.
Molly glanced at her. She hadn't expected Layla to remember everything and be so efficient.
However, Molly still said, "Don't be in such a rush to show off. Those were the simplest tasks; anyone with hands and feet could do them."
Molly tossed a contract in front of Layla and ordered, "Deliver this to Mr. Smith at Laic Group by four o'clock."
Layla picked up the document, checking the time as she walked out. It was already 3:30 p.m.
Laic Group was ten miles away. A taxi would be too expensive, and the bus would take too long. Luckily, Alice from another team had lent her an electric scooter.
Layla hadn't ridden an electric scooter in a long time. As she turned a corner on the pink scooter just outside the company, she crashed into a luxury car.
Layla and the scooter fell to the ground. Her arm was cut, and it hurt a lot.
However, she felt no pain; her mind went blank, and her face turned pale.
She was in big trouble. She had crashed into a Rolls-Royce.
This was bad.
Inside the Rolls-Royce, James said, "Mr. Holland, Ms. Adkins has crashed into our car."
Upon hearing this, Samuel, who was focused on the data, looked up from the contract, a strange light flickering in his deep black eyes.
It was that little rabbit again.
If it were any other woman, it would definitely be a deliberate attempt to get close to him.
As for her, was it fate?
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