Chapter 91 A Gilded Cage
The upscale international mall in the city center.
The moment Layla stepped in, she knew something was off.
There wasn’t a single shopper in sight and smiling sales associates stood deferentially at every store entrance, watching them ardently – a level of attention she found uncomfortable.
Layla had visited this mall once before, only ever window-shopping. The condescending glances from the salespeople were gone. They were now treating her as a VIP.
Layla frowned. "Why is there nobody here?"
"We've closed it off for us," Samuel said as if it were nothing.
"Ha. Do all rich people shop this way?" Layla couldn't help her sarcastic laugh.
"For safety."
"You mean I'll need a closed-off place wherever I go now?" She didn't like this special treatment. She just wanted a normal life.
"It's just for a little while. Only during these unusual times," Samuel tried to reassure her.
Layla felt like a canary trapped in a gilded cage, a constant restlessness was creeping into her heart. She turned abruptly to leave. "I don’t want to shop anymore."
Holding onto her wrist, Samuel asked, "Didn’t you want to buy a gift?"
"It's too expensive for me."
"If you like it, get it. Don’t worry about the money. If you're really fond of this mall, I can buy it for you," he said, with a hint of mischief.
"Mr. Holland, I see you’re playing the big shot," Layla scoffed, glancing at him with a smirk. "But not every woman wants to be commodified, you know."
"I'm not objectifying you; I'm trying to make things up to you," Samuel said earnestly, a rare glimpse of sincerity crossing his face. "I get that you might not like my way of doing things, but it’s the only way I know how to treat you well."
"Your way is to do whatever makes you happy, regardless of anyone else's feelings."
Layla wasn't sure if all wealthy people behaved this way, but Samuel was by far the most selfish she'd ever encountered. The Hollands were renowned for their cold-heartedness. Was this a family trait?
"I just want to see you happy," he said.
Samuel wasn't accustomed to placating women; this was as much as he could muster.
To Layla, his words were bitterly ironic. He was hurting her while wishing her happiness. It was like someone causing her pain, all the while claiming they didn't mean to hurt her.
Hypocritical much?
"But you know full well that being with you causes me nothing but misery. If you truly want me happy, you'd let me go. You've already wrecked my life once; do you plan on destroying it completely?" She glared at him; her eyes heavy with agony. The loss they'd suffered was a life sentence for a woman.
They were at an impasse, and even Samuel felt overwhelmed.
Every woman by his side was madly in love with him, except for her, who was filled with hatred. And yet, she was the first one whose heart he genuinely wanted to win.
The more he tried to get close, the more she pushed away.
Samuel sighed silently, softening his expression. "Let's just look around. Maybe you'll find something you like."
Resisting the urge to remind him she couldn't afford it, Layla caught sight of a skateboard shop.
Owen loved skating.
A skateboard—surely she could afford that.
After a brief hesitation, she pulled away from Samuel and made her way to the store.
"Mr. Holland, Miss Adkins, welcome!" The salesman greeted them with a beaming smile. "Miss Adkins, looking for a skateboard? These are all the latest models. Take your pick!"
Layla picked up a graffiti-decorated board. "How much for this one?"
"You've got great taste, Miss Adkins. This model is our top seller, at three thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars."
After hearing the price, she nearly dropped the board.
She was right—this place was not for her.
She reluctantly handed back the skateboard to the sales associate. "What's the matter? Don't you like it? Maybe check out some of the others."
Layla had looked at a few, all of which had cool designs, but she was too embarrassed to keep asking for prices. Instead, she went straight for the budget section, "Got anything under a hundred bucks?"
The sales associate's face stiffened. A hundred? The cheapest board here was two grand.
From the look on her face, Layla knew the answer, "Let’s go."
Samuel caught the manager's attention with a subtle look.
"Just a moment, Miss Adkins. We do have one here for $120," the manager quickly picked up a board that was actually priced at $3500.
"That cheap?" Layla was skeptical.
It was bizarre that this store didn't display prices.
"Yes. The most important thing about a skateboard is the material. This one's a bit lower in quality, which makes it much more affordable."
"Really?" Layla scrutinized it, finding it almost indistinguishable from the others.
"We'll take this one," Samuel declared.
"I didn't say I wanted it yet..."
"Can you afford any of the others?" Samuel asked, giving her a piercing look.
Layla shot him a vexed glance. If you don't have anything nice to say, maybe say less.
"Wrap it up for me."
"Of course." The manager took it carefully and started to wrap it with precision.
Samuel couldn't help but grin at Layla's grimace as she swiped her credit card. The heiresses and movie stars he knew, no matter how rich, always relished spending his money. The more, the merrier. But Layla, obviously not wealthy, insisted on paying even for something a little over a hundred.
Stubborn as hell, yet somehow, she never put him off.
In fact, it was quite the opposite.
After buying the board, Samuel took Layla to a fancy cafe for afternoon tea.
The upscale eatery was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. Layla didn't care for this kind of silence. Everything was outrageously expensive. It was more about ambience than anything. She didn't like the vibe—lifeless to the point where even a cough would draw stares. She'd rather be at a lively food stand, enjoying barbeque with friends.
Every little thing just showed how different her world was from Samuel's.
"I'm heading home tonight to sleep. I need to give the skateboard to my brother after midnight," Layla broke the silence.
Samuel poured her a cup of warm milk. "Last time, I didn't realize you and your brother were that close."
Was he mocking her? Layla frowned slightly.
Her relationship with Owen, a little hell-raiser, was far from good. Even though she was three years older, she had been the one bullied by him.
But... in that lousy household, Owen was the best to her. Her stepmom and her sister, Sarah, were worse, and her dad was nothing but a perpetual drunk.
Owen was the first person to give her a birthday gift and a cake after their mom left.
Back in high school, Layla found herself cornered by a bunch of thugs. Her younger brother, Owen, although only a middle schooler at the time, threw himself into the fray to save her. He got beaten to a pulp, which landed him in the hospital for three months.
As Owen often quipped, she was the only one allowed to push his buttons; anyone else who tried to mess with her would have to answer to him, and he didn’t play nice.
The siblings had a complex relationship that was anything but straightforward.
Nevertheless, Layla always saw him as her little brother, through and through.
"Mind your own business," Layla shot a glare at Samuel. "You wouldn't understand, you emotionless icicle."
"And how do you know what I understand?" Samuel countered with a loaded tone. He once knew the warmth of brotherly love, albeit briefly.
His fingers tightened around the coffee mug.
A serious expression crossed his face, and a flicker of profound regret passed through his eyes.
But Samuel chose not to dwell on it. "Finish your milk, and I'll drive you home."
"That's why I can't stand you capitalists," Layla suddenly sneered.
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