Chapter 133 Angel
"The orphanage?" Samuel hadn't known about this part of her life, and his heart ached even more for her.
She nodded gently against his chest, her voice soft, "Yeah, once my brother, Owen, got into a little accident with his bike, my stepmom blamed me and sent me to the orphanage."
Samuel's brows knitted together, a cold glint passing through his eyes.
There's no shortage of cruel people in the world, but anyone who dares harm his woman deserves to pay!
"One night, the orphanage caught on fire, and I even rescued an older boy."
"Older boy?"
"Yeah. I remember he was a few years older than me and arrived around the same time at the orphanage. He seemed to have amnesia... I can't recall the details, but he gave me a bracelet once. I've kept it at home. I used to hope that maybe, just maybe, we'd meet again."
Despite it being a childhood memory, Samuel couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy, "Do you look forward to seeing him?"
"If fate allows us to meet again, that'd be wonderful. After all, we were friends for a month. But it's a long shot, I'm not holding out too much hope."
"Good to know," Samuel scoffed, pulling her chin up for a kiss, "You've got me now, no thinking of any other guys."
Layla looked at him with amusement, "Jealous over a childhood friend?"
"Jealous, and fiercely so!" He pinched her cheek playfully.
"You're quite the vinegar king, aren't you?" Layla giggled, the anxiety dissolving away, her spirits lifting once again.
"I won't let anything scary like that happen to you again," Samuel promised, holding her tight and gently kissing the top of her head.
Growing up in such circumstances, she must have endured so much.
He couldn't travel back in time to change the past, but he swore to do everything in his power to protect her happiness for the rest of her life.
"Yeah, I believe you," Layla murmured softly as she snuggled into his embrace, "I wonder if all the hardships for the first twenty years of my life were just preparing me to meet you."
"Do you think?" she looked up at him.
"My whole life's lucky charm—it's you." Samuel's lips touched the crown of her head, a warm kiss.
Layla's heart melted at his words, her lips curving into a sweet smile as she wrapped an arm around his neck, "So, that means you're mine, and I won't let anyone mess with you."
"Who'd dare to?" Samuel let out a chuckle, a touch bemused. It was the first time a woman had ever declared she'd protect him, and it didn't feel half bad.
"It's those Martin siblings, Lucy and Jovan—jealous of what you have, trying to frame you, even blaming you for your brother's death."
The air grew heavy as her words hung between them.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up..." Layla immediately regretted mentioning it.
Samuel shook his head, "It's in the past. Why do you believe I'm not guilty? All the evidence was against me."
"Because I just do. No reasons necessary." Layla didn't offer specifics, but her conviction was the strongest evidence of all.
How could she entrust her heart to him if she lacked even that ounce of faith?
His gaze softened at her raw sincerity. That was what he loved most about her—the unpolished gem ahead of him that shined with honesty, so unlike the calculating and ambitious vipers he was used to.
He took her hand gently, placing it near his abdomen.
"What's wrong?" Layla asked, puzzled.
"This kidney—it's from my brother, a gift."
Layla's heart fluttered, her eyes widening.
"I used to keep the Holland family at arm's length. My brother reached out many times, but I was always cold to him. At first, I thought it was all an act, but gradually, I saw he was different from the others. He genuinely felt he owed me something, trying to repay the debt for the Hollands."
"When my kidneys failed, and no matches could be found, it was my brother who donated one to me." Samuel's eyes shone with a mix of emotions.
"Your brother was a good man."
"Yeah, if it weren't for his sake, I would have taken down the Holland's long ago." A fierce glint passed through Samuel's eyes, "But those responsible for his death will pay, blood for blood."
"The killer... was it Jovan? He used you to eliminate your brother, aiming to take over the Holland estate all for himself."
"Right. But any proof went up in flames during that car accident."
"Justice has a way of finding its way. The wicked will get what's coming to them," Layla comforted.
Samuel's gaze turned somber, "I'm not a good man either."
He had climbed to this position stepping over a mountain of bones, with blood on his hands. He didn't want her to know the depths of his ruthlessness, yet he refused to deceive her.
Layla shook her head vigorously as she burrowed into his embrace, "I don't need to know who you were before. You don't have to tell me. All I know is how good you are to me, and that's all that matters."
She was no messiah, no guardian of virtues; she was just an average girl. Unconditional gratitude was her response to anyone who treated her with kindness.
"You goof," Samuel murmured, kissing the top of her head. "It's still early. Why don't you sleep a bit longer, hmm?"
Nodding, Layla snuggled back under the covers. Unlike usual, it wasn't Samuel's arms encompassing her but her body pressing willingly against his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. Yet even then, it didn't feel close enough, so she entwined her legs with his, clinging to him like a koala in his arms.
Samuel let out a chuckle laced with exasperation. "What's up?"
"Baby, I love your enthusiasm, but if you hug me any tighter, I can't promise I'll stay a gentleman."
"Oh? So, what do I do?" Layla withdrew her legs slightly, reluctantly, but didn't let go of her embrace.
"Just sleep," Samuel sighed. She must be exhausted from the nightmare and needed rest.
"Mhm." Layla obediently closed her eyes, feeling utterly secure with the scent of his cologne and the steady beat of his heart lulling her.
Can too much happiness breed fear of loss? Her heart was full of the safety he provided, and yet the worry crept in—if she got used to him and one day he left, the heartache would be immense.
Don't overthink it, Layla, she reminded herself internally.
Trust in what you see, cherish what you have now.
The night was peaceful.
Listening to the rhythmic breathing in his arms, Samuel gently kissed her forehead, "Sleep tight, babe."
...
Across the world.
In Germany.
"Angel!" A young man woke from his nightmare, sweat beading on his brow. Surveying the morning light and the brilliant sunshine, he saw a lush estate spread out beyond the windows.
Palm to forehead, he arose and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, bathed in sunlight, his figure draped in a robe. Behind gold-rimmed glasses, his pupils focused from their previous scattering.
The golden rays sketched his chiseled features and pale skin, his lips a soft red. He was as if crafted by God—pure, graceful, a noble figure from an oil painting, a paragon of beauty.
He had dreamt of her again -the angel who had rescued him from a blaze.
After more than a decade, he wondered about her well-being.
Upon his return home, he was determined to find her.
The blond, blue-eyed butler entered with deference and offered a glass of water. 'Sir, the plane will depart in two hours. It's time to prepare.'
"Understood." He emptied the glass in one gulp, placing the crystal clear glass back on the table, his long fingers catching the light.
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