Chapter 8 Driving Them Out Of The Villa

The sudden question sent a chill down Layla's spine. Her eyes widened as she looked at Clark. It suddenly occurred to her that she wasn't Layla to Clark; her current identity had nothing to do with her grandmother lying in the hospital bed.

Layla's mouth went dry. She didn't know how she was going to explain to Clark as to why she wanted to help the old woman.

Clark studied her face for a moment and asked, "What's up? Answer my question."

With a blush, she averted her gaze. "I'll get you a bottle of water." Her heart almost leaped out of her chest.

She strutted, awkwardly pointing at the vending machine.

Just then, Clark's phone chimed. He unlocked the phone and saw a message: "They've made a move!"

Clark put his phone away and watched Layla's back. A slow smile emerged on his face.

The game was about to begin. He wondered what she'd choose.

Layla quickly ran to the ladies' room and splashed water on her face over and over again as if trying to wash away the unease in her heart.

She couldn't comprehend her thoughts and feelings. Her heart was racing in her chest. She had been restless ever since Clark showed up at the hospital. It seemed as if the world had become silent. Clark's resonant voice was the only thing she could hear.

But she didn't like him.

She blamed it all on his handsome face. Every time his deep-set eyes met hers, she would falsely believe they gleamed with affection.

Layla splashed another fistful of water on her face and took deep breaths to calm down. Then, she walked out of the ladies' room and back to Clark with the bottle of water.

"Well, I got to know the old woman when I worked as a volunteer..." she lied.

However, Clark waved his hand, stopping her. "We're not a real couple. You don't have to tell me all this."

Layla pursed her lips in annoyance. He was the one who had questioned her.

She was so angry that she didn't want to talk to him. She quickly walked around the wheelchair, gripped the handles, and pushed it forward.

What she didn't know was that the moment she turned around, Clark flashed a smile.

The two remained silent on their way back to the villa. However, loud voices inside the house caught Layla's attention when they arrived at the villa.

"Hurry up and throw these out."

Layla trotted inside and saw a man commanding the servants to discard the things. He looked a little like Clark, and a woman was standing beside him. They were Clark's stepmother, Susie Clinton, and his half-brother, Khalil Smith.

"What are you doing?" Clark shouted.

"Hi, Clark!" Khalil turned around, faking a smile as if he had just sensed their arrival. "Is that your wife?" he asked, looking Layla up and down. "Gosh, she is so beautiful!"

Layla felt disgusted by the man's obscene gaze. She looked at the woman adorned with heavy jewels and the lousy man standing beside her. A confused frown creased her forehead.

"Get out!" Clark bellowed.

"Clark, this is not your house anymore." Susie smiled. "The company is in desperate need of cash. Your father has agreed to sell this house. You won't make it difficult for us, will you?"

Clark gripped the armrests of his wheelchair and glared at the vicious woman. Despite his anger, he couldn't stop her.

Layla felt sorry for him. She understood that Clark must have had a hard time all these years.

Layla couldn't stand Susie who was still babbling on and on. The woman's presence infuriated her.

"If it's for the company, why don't you sell your own house?" she said, shooting a disgusted look at the heavy pieces of jewelry on Susie. "You look like a Christmas tree with those dazzling jewelry on you. You could have sold them to save the company. Did that ever cross your mind?"

Hearing that, the servants moving the furniture out of the house bit their lips to suppress their laughter.

"Kick them out!" Susie bellowed her orders.

"You don't have to. We can go ourselves."

Layla packed a few clothes and wheeled Clark out of the enormous villa that belonged to the Smith family. She decided to look for an apartment with low rent.

A smile tugged at the corners of Clark's lips when he saw Layla defend him. "Didn't we promise not to interfere in each other's business? You can just leave me alone and go back to your parents' house. Why do you choose to stay with me?"

"I just don't want to see you become a homeless man. You are my husband, and we are in this together. Do you think I will let someone bully my husband?"

Layla flashed him a cunning smile. Although Clark knew she was just quoting him, he was still impressed.

His heart skipped a beat. "Gosh, why does she have to try seducing me even now?" he cursed under his breath.