Chapter 89 Act Now
"Get on with it."
"Make it clean!"
"Yes, Mr. Holland."
Voices were discussing something in the background.
Layla's eyelids felt heavy as she worked to open them. She saw a doctor in a mask holding something shiny... a scalpel?
Layla gasped in horror.
"Stop!" She yelled. She struggled, only to find her hands and feet bound.
She twisted frantically, her limbs chafing till they bled, yet she couldn't break free. "Let me go!"
"Save your energy," a voice—aged but cruel—chimed in.
Turning her head, Layla saw an elderly man in his seventies, sitting to one side and resting on a cane, looking at her with a cruel gaze as if she were livestock on a chopping block.
"Who... who are you?"
"I'm Samuel's father, Holland."
A member of the Holland family?
Layla was stricken with terror; they had found her so quickly! Their ruthlessness was clear—they intended to harm the child she was carrying.
"I expected someone extraordinary for my son to have chosen, but all I see is a poor girl like you. Aspiring to bear the Hollands' offspring to improve your status through a child? Utterly delusional. You're not fit to associate with the Holland family."
"I never wanted to be part of your family," Layla shouted. "Even if you begged me, I wouldn't care."
"If your son hadn't tricked me, I wouldn't be pregnant. Go settle your scores with him, why demean yourself by bullying a woman?"
"Heh, still sharp-tongued. I'll deal with the brat in your belly, then I'll pull all those teeth out!" Holland spat angrily.
"What are you waiting for? Do it."
"Don't touch my child!"
"Get out of my way!"
"Stay away from me!"
"You bunch of animals! Get out—” Layla thrashed desperately, screaming at the top of her lungs with a tear-choked voice. “Samuel, you bastard, where the hell are you?"
"Bang—" The next second, the door flew open.
Several men in black suits rushed in.
Samuel strode in, radiating a fierce aura, grabbed the doctor by the throat, and with a casual toss, the man flew like a rag doll, crashing into the wall and coughing up a mouthful of blood.
"There, there, you're safe now." Samuel untied Layla's restraints, and like a scared little creature, she quickly hid behind him.
"So, you're refusing to marry because of this woman?" Holland glowered at him.
"Calling off the wedding was my choice; it has nothing to do with her. But Layla is indeed my woman. She is my future wife!" Samuel declared with finality.
Wife? Layla's eyes widened in shock.
Holland stood up from the couch and shook with rage, "What did you just say? You're going to marry her?"
"You heard me loud and clear."
"Heh, you think I'd believe that nonsense? You're just trying to piss me off," scoffed Holland.
"Believe it or not, you'll find out soon enough. Dare harm my woman, and I won't show any mercy."
"What? Are you going to kill me now? I'm your father; everything you have is because of me! I gave you everything, and I can take it all back. You'll be left with nothing! You’ll be broke and useless!" Holland threatened, his rage erupting.
"Try me!" Samuel gave a scornful laugh, his bared teeth resembling sinister fangs.
A flicker of fear crossed Holland's face. He knew that if his son leveraged his abilities properly, it could greatly benefit the Holland family and the Holland Corporation. But out of control, he was like a tiger and they would be fresh meat. He thought he could keep Samuel in check, but now he felt terrified. He couldn’t control him.
"Stay the hell away from my woman and child, or you'll face consequences you can't handle!" Samuel issued a warning and left with Layla in his arms.
In the hallway, Holland's guards were splayed out on the floor, beaten and battered.
Samuel settled Layla in the back seat of his Bentley, her gaze blank and pale with shock, still recovering from the night's terror and shivering like a scared puppy.
"It's okay, I'm here," Samuel consoled her, his voice filled with concern.
Just as he was about to pull her into his embrace...
"Slap—" A loud slap echoed inside the car.
Samuel's face bore the mark of five distinct fingerprints.
"Boss," Mr. Vandella was frantic; he was ready to stop the car.
"Keep driving!" Samuel barked.
His gaze was cold and predatory as he glared at Layla and ground his teeth, "You're the first woman to ever slap me."
It was a hard slap; it left his ears ringing. How much must she hate him?
"I almost died on that operating table because of you!" Layla screamed; her eyes bloodshot with fury.
She felt like livestock, bound to an operating table, vulnerable to a butcher’s whim.
Those feelings of helplessness, fear, despair, and desolation ravaged her heart, mercilessly trampling her dignity. Why should they, with power and influence, have the right to toy with lives?
"If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be pregnant." Layla loathed this man to the core.
"Does that slap make you feel better?"
"No."
"What will?"
"Only if you were dead." The words Layla ground out between clenched teeth struck Samuel like a bayonet thrust.
For the first time in his life, he had gone out of his way for a woman, and she wished him dead.
He didn’t want things to escalate to this extent.
Frowning, Samuel said, "Afraid I can't grant that wish."
"Where are you taking me?" Layla panicked as the car turned onto a familiar road, "I won't go back with you."
"You need a couple of days to recover, and he won't let this go easily. You're safe with me."
"I should have let him operate." Layla spat out the words with venom.
"If you were that heartless, you wouldn't have screamed for my help."
Layla quickly denied it, "That was just instinct. How was I to know he wouldn't kill me too? Even if he didn't come after me, I would seek the surgery. I will not keep this baby."
"I told you, it's not up to you." Samuel's face was a mask of coldness, clearly not wanting to elaborate.
In a burst of anger, Layla tried to jump out of the car, but before her hand could touch the door, Samuel grabbed her wrist and yanked her back, pinning her down in her seat.
His dangerous presence loomed closer, a threatening chill in his eyes, "Keep still and stop provoking me; it won't end well for you."
Layla shrank back, hating him yet too scared to speak another word.
…
After being taken back to the villa, Layla had a terrible nightmare. She dreamt she was strapped to an operating table, with Holland approaching, wielding a large chainsaw aiming for her abdomen.
"No—don't—" She awoke with a scream from the night terror.
A hand immediately grasped her icy one.
"I'm here, no one's going to hurt you."
A bedside lamp cast a soft yellow glow across Samuel's face.
"Take a sip of water," Samuel offered, but upon seeing him clearly, Layla forcefully pushed his hand away.
The glass silently hit the carpet, its contents spreading everywhere.
"Samuel, please, just let me go," Layla pleaded like a cornered child.
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