Chapter 602: It's Marrying Off a Daughter, Not Selling One
Frank took a beat, then said, "Hey, if you don't wanna move, then don't. I'm cool with whatever you decide."
"Thanks, Dad," Layla felt all warm and fuzzy inside; her family's got her back.
"But I gotta say, you're still young. No need to rush into marriage. Make sure the guy's solid before you jump in, alright?"
"Yeah, I got it," Layla hung up.
"So, you've been plotting to introduce me to your folks, huh?" Suddenly, a pair of slender arms wrapped around Layla from behind, making her jump.
"How do you sneak up like that? You scared the crap outta me," Layla grumbled.
"I did make some noise, but you were too busy telling our dad you wanna marry me," Samuel teased.
"Who said I wanna marry you?"
"You did. Heard it loud and clear. You're so stubborn. You say you don't wanna marry me, but you're already thinking about it," Samuel was grinning ear to ear. "How about we meet your dad tomorrow and then head straight to get hitched?"
"Come on, it's marriage, not a quick trip to the store. Plus, my dad might not even like you."
"I'll throw a hundred million bucks his way; he'll like me."
Layla rolled her eyes, 'So what if you got money?'
"My dad's giving away his daughter, not selling her. It's not just about the cash."
"At least it shows her partner's got the dough and she's a gem in his eyes, right?"
That kinda made sense, but Layla wasn't gonna let him win that easy.
"I'm gonna bake a cake now, don't get in my way."
"Will you marry me? Will you or won't you?"
"Samuel, you're so annoying. Get lost. No cake for you tonight."
"I can skip the cake and 'have' you instead."
"I'm getting mad."
Samuel chuckled, "Alright, I'll make a call. Wait for the chef's cake."
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead, no peeking."
"Got it, chef," Samuel said, giving her a peck on the cheek.
She spent over an hour in the kitchen.
"Cake time! Freshly baked, super tasty cake!" Layla hollered. "If you're late, it's gone. Don't miss out!"
Samuel came out of the shower in comfy loungewear, hair half-dry, looking both hot and chill. The usually aloof Samuel was the perfect hubby at home, his every glance full of love.
The cake on the table was golden and smelled amazing.
"Looks good," Samuel said.
"Of course, do you know who made it?" Layla puffed up with pride. "Not to brag, but I got a knack for cooking. Found out when I first started."
"Yeah, my girlfriend's naturally awesome." Samuel kissed her.
Layla wasn't having it, "What do you mean? I made the cake, how's it your credit? So annoying."
"Do we need to split hairs?"
"Of course. Alright, let's eat before it cools and loses its flavor. I'll cut it," Layla grabbed a knife, but her face fell when she cut the cake.
What the heck?
The cake was rock hard.
So embarrassing.
Her face went stiff.
"What's up?" Samuel tried to poke it with a fork but couldn't, "What is this, food or a weapon? You planning to ambush me?"
"I, I followed the recipe to a T, how'd it get so hard?" Layla was puzzled. "I thought for my first time, it might be a bit off, but this? I was just bragging, and now this? So embarrassing."
"I was just bragging, and now this? So embarrassing."
Seeing her a bit down, Samuel couldn't help but love her even more, "First tries are always like this. At least it looks good."
"What's the point if it looks good but is hard as a rock? Can we even eat it? No way, I gotta try again."
"Do it tomorrow. Making one today was already enough work."
"I'm not tired. I just can't believe I can't make a soft cake."
"Pregnant ladies need rest, be good."
Layla reluctantly sat down when Samuel used the baby card, "My first cake was a flop."
"It'll be better next time, I know it."
With his encouragement, Layla perked up, "Of course, I won't stop until I make a cake as good as the bakery's."
Layla was all fired up, and Samuel started living a life of daily cake.
Day one.
Day two.
Day three.
"Here's the cake," Layla placed it in front of him. "Today it feels softer, give it a try."
Samuel was at the point where just seeing cake made him cringe, "Honey, I love your effort, but do we really need cake every day? Can we take a break?"
"What? You don't wanna eat it? You said you'd be my guinea pig, but now on day four, you're bailing? Men are so unreliable," Layla pouted. "You think my cake's bad?"
"Of course not, but even the best cake every day is a bit much."
"Alright, I get it. I won't force you," Layla said, pulling a face and about to take the cake away.
"Wait, I didn't say I wouldn't eat it. I'll eat it. How can I not eat the cake my baby made?" Samuel said, taking a bite.
Layla's face lit up, "How is it?"
"Delicious."
"I told you it was good. Today's cake is soft and fluffy. I think I've nailed the recipe. I could teach others now."
Samuel's eyes lit up with hope, "So no more cheesecake?"
"Yeah, congrats, you'll get delicious matcha cake starting tomorrow."
Samuel almost fainted.
He loved her, but "cake" had become his nightmare.
Meanwhile.
Brenda couldn't hold back and called Frank again, "It's been a month, when is she moving out?"
"Layla already told me she's not moving," Frank replied.
"Not moving? Didn't you promise me? Frank, you took my million dollars, don't forget. Are you trying to cheat me?"
"I don't want your money. I've used $200,000 and will return the remaining $800,000."
"You—you broke your promise," Brenda was furious.
"You're the one with the problem. You're trying to kick your daughter out for your own sake. Afraid she'll mess with your current life? Don't worry, Layla's a good kid, she won't ask you for money," Frank said, "I've let her down a lot in the past. From now on, I want to be a good dad. If she wants to stay in the city, I'll support her."
"I'm telling you, she already has a boyfriend, and they're getting married soon. Forget your selfish decision. Give me your bank account number, I'll transfer the remaining money to you, and let's never contact each other again."
Brenda panicked, 'No, I can't let Layla stay in the city like a ticking time bomb.'
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