Chapter 3 - Sweetie, Have You Changed Your Mind?
- Layla’s POV
- “You’re out of your mind if you think for one second that I’ll let you sell me!”
- Somewhere between my mother leaving and now, Gerald Carlisle must have lost his mind. Completely.
- “You go with him, or we all die. Simple as that,” he said, his voice flat.
- I stared at him, disbelief and fury warring inside me.
- “We don’t have to pay for your mistakes! I’ll take Brit and leave,” I snarled.
- Gerald’s lips curled into a sneer. “Brit is still seventeen, and I’m her father. You can’t take her anywhere.”
- He stood up, eyes dark and unreadable.
- I’d never been scared of him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know what he was capable of. I had picked him up from the police station after enough bar fights to know what kind of damage he could do.
- And I could see it now. The desperation in his hazel eyes as he took a step closer.
- “You’re not going to drag Brit out of school in her senior year, not when you want her to graduate,” he continued. “And that’s what I want, too. She has a better chance than us to get out of this hole. She can make something of herself. But you, Layla…”
- He let out a low, bitter laugh.
- “You’re a high school dropout. Scrubbing rich people’s toilets is all you’ll ever be good at. You might as well do this for your sister.”
- His words hit me like a physical blow.
- I sucked in a sharp breath, my hands curling into fists.
- “And whose fault is that?” I whispered, my voice shaking.
- “Stop blaming me,” Gerald snapped. “You’re resourceful. If you’d wanted to stay in school, you would have found a way.”
- I felt something inside me crack, but he wasn’t finished.
- “Besides,” he said, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips, “you look just like your mother. I’m sure you’d make more money on your back than at that hotel.”
- The breath rushed from my lungs.
- I gasped, the sting of his words hitting deep, cutting through the last shred of patience I had left.
- I turned away from him, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. I wouldn’t let him ruin me the way he had ruined himself.
- Brit was the only good thing in my life.
- And I would not let him break her, too.
- I would pay the debt off myself if I had to. It wouldn’t be the first time I cleaned up his mess.
- It would set us back, but at least Brit could still leave when she graduated.
- Jaw tight, I stormed into my room and locked the door behind me.
- I knelt beside my bed, easing it away from the wall before pushing on one of the square panels. The wood shifted just enough for me to slip my fingers through and pull it open.
- My secret hiding spot.
- My emergency fund.
- I reached inside—but touched nothing.
- My stomach dropped.
- No, no, no—
- I yanked the panel open wider, my fingers scraping against the hollow space.
- It was gone. The jar. The money. All of it.
- My body ran cold before fury took over.
- I surged to my feet, unlocked my door, and stormed back to the living room.
- Gerald sat in his chair, sipping a fresh beer like we hadn’t just been threatened hours ago.
- “Where is it?” I growled.
- He didn’t even look up.
- “You’re blocking the TV, Layla.”
- Something inside me snapped.
- “Where is my money?” My voice shook with rage, my body trembling from the effort of holding myself back.
- Gerald finally looked at me. Then, he looked away.
- “I had to pay him something the first time he came,” he muttered.
- The words barely registered before my legs gave out.
- I sank to the floor, my heart thundering as realization crashed into me.
- That money was everything. All our hopes. All our dreams.
- Gone.
- He had taken it without a second thought.
- Tears burned my eyes, but I swallowed them back. I would not cry over him.
- “I will not be a part of your mess,” I hissed, pushing myself to my feet. “I’ll help you pay him back, with money, not my body. I won’t let you taint Britney.”
- He scoffed, taking another sip of beer.
- “And how will you help me? You earn peanuts.” I clenched my teeth.
- “I earn something. Which is more than I can say for you.” My voice was steady, ice-cold. “Get a job and learn some principles. It’s not okay to sell your children.”
- I turned on my heel and marched back to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
- I refused to break.
- I refused to let him take everything from me.
- I needed a plan.
- My thoughts spun wildly, searching for any way out of this mess.
- And then it hit me.-Jackson King’s offer.
- I clenched my jaw, shame curling in my stomach as I considered it longer than I should have.
- But no.
- I could do this without him.
- I just had to work harder.
- Maybe ask for more hours at the hotel—
- My eyes widened.
- God! Work.
- *******************************
- A few hours later, I hurried to the penthouse suite.
- The same suite where that gorgeous, insufferable man had made his rude request.
- I had been so distracted with Gerald’s words that I hadn’t thought of him all day.
- But the second I knocked on the door, he was all I could think about.
- And once again, my body betrayed me.
- Once again, I found myself weak to my knees.
- Heat pooled low in my stomach, the same fire licking through my veins like before.
- There was no answer.
- Thank God.
- I didn’t know what I’d do if he made that ridiculous offer again.
- I unlocked the door, pushed my cart inside—
- And nearly moaned at the scent that hit me.
- It was him. Spicy, masculine, and intoxicating.
- My toes curled, my breath catching as my traitorous body reacted to just the memory of him.
- He wasn’t even here, and yet, he consumed me.
- I needed to snap out of it.
- He was gay.
- “Housekeeping,” I called out, just in case.
- Silence.
- Maybe they were in bed. Or the shower.
- My stomach twisted, the irrational urge to claw out the other man’s eyes surging through me.
- I wiped the sweat from my brow, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror.
- I looked like a mess.
- Strands of hair had slipped from my puff, sweat clung to my skin, and my uniform was beyond saving.
- I splashed cool water onto my face, sighing in relief.
- Still too hot.
- I unbuttoned my shirt, untucking it from my skirt before pressing a cold towel to my chest.
- Half an hour later, I was significantly cooler but hopelessly late.
- I grabbed the towels and walked back out—
- And froze.
- There, standing in the doorway, was the biggest man I had ever seen.
- Jackson King.
- I sucked in a sharp breath as his ice-blue gaze met mine.
- My body lit up like a live wire.
- Heat. Want. A shiver of something I didn’t understand.
- “Why are you just standing there? Move out of the way.”
- That voice.
- It was that same voice…
- I barely registered the second man standing beside him, barely heard his dismissive tone.
- “Are you sure you want her?” the man scoffed. “She can’t even follow simple instructions.”
- My gaze snapped back to Jackson’s.
- The anger there nearly knocked me back.
- Was he upset that I had rejected his offer?
- “Cover yourself up,” he growled.
- His voice was different this time.
- Rough. Deep.
- A shiver rolled down my spine as I followed his gaze…
- And horror shot through me.
- My shirt. Unbuttoned.
- Everything on display.
- Gasping, I clutched it closed, spinning away from them as my face burned.
- “I was looking for you, Layla,” Jackson said.
- His voice was low.
- Dangerous.
- “Judging by this warm welcome, I take it you’ve changed your mind?”