LAYLA'S POV
She stormed toward me like she wanted to tear me apart. Her heels slammed the floor, echoing louder than her rage.
Before I could move, her hands shoved me hard. My back hit the wall with a sharp thud, but I held in the cry. I wouldn't give her that satisfaction.
"Don't you dare talk back to me, you filthy girl!" she shouted, face twisted in disgust.
She shoved the crumpled paper, the pregnancy report, into my chest.
"Who's the father of that thing you're carrying? Don't say Jordan. Don't you even think of dragging my son's name into your shame."
I took a breath, my body still against the wall. "It's his," I said clearly. "I've only ever been with him."
Her eyes narrowed, disbelief flashing across her face. "Liar."
"I'm not lying."
Her hand shot out again. This time, she grabbed my face, her nails digging into my cheeks as she covered my mouth and nose.
I struggled, grabbing her wrist, pushing against her. She was strong, but I was desperate.
I forced her hand away with both of mine and stepped back, catching my breath.
"Don't ever touch me like that again," I said, my voice low but firm.
"You little tramp," she hissed. "Trying to use a baby to stay in this house?"
"I'm not trying to trap anyone. I didn't even plan to tell you."
"Oh, how noble," she sneered. "Well, now that I know—get rid of it. I mean it. That baby will never be part of this family. Jordan doesn't want you. He never did. You should've left a long time ago."
I clenched my jaw, swallowing down the anger.
Her eyes narrowed again. "You hear me? I don't want to see you walking around here with a belly. Handle it. Or I will."
She turned, throwing one last glare over her shoulder. "I'd better not hear that thing is still inside you."
The door slammed shut behind her.
I stood frozen, the silence around me suddenly loud. My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, one hand on the carpet, the other wrapped around my belly.
She called it a thing.
Not a baby.
Not her grandchild.
I looked down at my stomach. It wasn't big yet. But something was already there. Someone. A tiny heartbeat. A life.
My life.
I closed my eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry."
Not because I was ashamed.
But because I couldn't protect it. Not yet. Not the way a mother should.
A sharp ring from my phone made me jump.
I grabbed it off the bed. Unknown number.
"Hello?" I said, my voice still shaky.
"Layla, you need to come home. Right now."
The voice was male. Fast. Serious.
My heart dropped. "Who is this? What happened?"
But the line went dead.
I stood still for a moment, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest. Then I grabbed my purse and rushed outside.
I caught a cab, ignoring the driver's questions. My mind was spinning. Who called? What was waiting for me?
When the cab pulled up in front of the Bennett manor, something felt off. The house looked too quiet. No staff. No movement.
Like it was holding its breath.
I stepped out and ran inside.
Room by room, I opened doors.
Empty.
Empty.
Still nothing.
Until I got to Victoria's room.
Voices.
Laughter.
I crept closer, careful not to make a sound.
"Even though my sister forced you to marry her, you still came back to me?" Victoria said, her voice sweet and fake.
"You know I can't stay away," Jordan answered. "I never loved Layla. She tricked me. Ruined everything. She's nothing."
My hands clenched at my sides.
Victoria giggled. "I should've known you'd always be mine."
"You are. And once I get rid of her, it'll just be us."
I wanted to scream. But I stayed still.
Victoria's phone rang. "Go take a shower, babe," she said softly. "I'll join you soon."
I backed away, hiding behind a pillar as Jordan passed by, heading to the bathroom.
Victoria walked out and leaned on the railing, answering her call.
"Yes, Mrs. King?" she said, smiling. "I put Layla in her place. Jordan's still mine. Always has been."
She chuckled.
"Soon she'll be out of the house, and I'll take her spot. I should throw a party. A 'Layla's ruined life' party."
My breath hitched.
She kept talking, proud of herself.
"I drugged her drink at the club. She didn't even notice. I just wanted her to sleep with some random guy so her reputation would fall. But Jordan showed up instead. Oh well—worked out anyway. He hates her now."
That was enough.
I stepped out from the shadows.
"How could you?" I said, my voice shaking with fury.
Victoria froze. Her phone dropped to the floor.
"Layla?" she whispered.
I charged at her, grabbing her hair and yanking her back.
"You set me up!" I shouted. "You ruined me. I trusted you. I loved you like a sister."
"Let go of me!" she screamed, trying to push me off. "Isaiah!"
I didn't stop. Not this time.
I wanted her to feel it. Just a little of what I had felt.
Footsteps pounded behind me. Then a shove.
Jordan.
I flew back, landing hard on the stairs. My foot slipped. My head hit the marble.
Pain.
White-hot pain.
I rolled, tumbling down.
My vision blurred. Blood. So much blood.
Everything slowed down.
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe right.
My hand reached for my stomach, shaking.
No.
Not the baby.
My baby.
I blinked up at the ceiling, trying to hold on to anything, just so my baby could survive. But the darkness pulled harder. I hated being weak. Hated the fact that even in this position, all I could see was their betrayal, their scorn, and most of all, my failure to protect the only miracle that had ever happened to me.
I'm sorry, little one.
Mummy tried but failed to let you see the world.