Chapter 190

As night fell, a towering figure cast a long shadow over the office desk. Sam, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, was the epitome of intense concentration. His eyes, fierce and unblinking, were fixed on the fluctuating data displayed on the screen, capturing every minute detail with hawk-like precision.

A soft knock echoed through the room-two gentle taps on the door. "Still busy? I've made you some soup to have before you continue," Layla's voice floated in, carrying the warmth of the soup with her.

"Hmm," Sam responded, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her, all while his hands continued their dance across the computer keyboard.

Seeing his dedication, Layla offered, "Let me feed you." She spoonfed him the soup slowly, occasionally wiping his lips with a napkin. "Is it good?" she asked.

"Hmm."

Her smile was radiant. "You're not even looking. Not scared I might poison you?"

Sam's movements slowed, his gaze briefly leaving the screen to meet hers. He kissed her lips tenderly, his smile disarmingly handsome. "Now I'm not afraid."

"Stop it," she protested, her lips still tingling from the kiss. The sweetness lingered-the flavor of love.

After finishing the bowl of soup, she nestled comfortably in his embrace. Noticing Sam stretching his neck, she offered, "Neck sore? Let me give you a massage. You just keep on working." She moved behind him, her hands kneading his shoulders with vigor.

"Does that feel good?"

"Is the pressure okay?"

"Mmm."

With the final keystroke, Sam pulled her hand back into his embrace, his gaze softening in a way reserved just for her. "You've been so thoughtful today. What's on your mind? What do you want?"

Layla pouted, a playful hum in her voice, "That tone of yours, as if someone being nice has to have an ulterior motive. I don't love hearing that."

"Ah, did I misunderstand my girl? It seems she wants nothing from me."

"Well... there is one tiny thing I wanted to talk to you about," Layla said, sticking out her tongue endearingly.

Samuel couldn't help but laugh and teased her by flicking her nose. "Unsolicited kindness can spell only one of two things: mischief or ulterior motives."

"Come on, I'm always gentle and caring with you, alright?"

"Alright. Out with it."

"This weekend, the Eilish Group has invited our team to a resort..."

"No," he cut her off firmly before she could finish.

"I don't really want to go, but skipping it might make me look like an outsider. You know our team is new, we need to build good relationships."

"You're there to work, not to socialize."

"Yeah, but getting along with coworkers is part of the job too. What if they start making things difficult for me at work?"

"Who?" Samuel's voice turned stern, his expression clearly stating: troublemakers will be dealt with.

"Me, I mean, just in case," Layla quickly clarified, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling all the charming tactics she had, "Honey, it's just for two days. Let me go, please? I'll be back Sunday evening. And you don't trust me even when I'm with a bunch of colleagues?"

"I don't feel at ease unless you're by my side."

"You can't just keep me tied to you all the time. Let me go, please."

"Leaving me alone at home, off having fun - doesn't your conscience hurt?" Samuel nibbled at her ear, making his point.

Layla felt a twinge of guilt, "Isn't Mr. Morris going to be here?"

"What's the fun in hanging out with a father figure?"

"..."

Layla persisted from eight in the evening until ten, and as soon as Samuel came out of the shower, she was right there waiting, "Honey, I-"

Her words were suddenly silenced by a kiss.

In an instant, her petite figure was scooped up by Samuel and placed on the bed.

"I haven't finished... talking..." Layla gasped, her body arching involuntarily as he kissed and nibbled her ear, sending ants of sensation marching over her skin.

"Shouldn't your pleas be expressed through actions?" Samuel murmured, his lips tracing a path down to her neck, then her collarbone.

His hands, entwined with hers, pressed them firmly into the mattress on either side of her head.

"Let's make up for the next two days first..."

In the end, as Layla lay beneath him, trembling and whispering, she finally heard him yield.

Awakening to a faint sound in the early morning, Layla felt the lingering grasp of sleep as she opened her eyes to find the man already immaculately dressed in a sharp black suit.

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"Seven o'clock."

"That early?" Layla yawned, stretching languidly. "Do you have a meeting today?"

"I'm leaving for a business trip."

"A trip? When was that decided?"

"Last week." Samuel moved to her side of the bed, bending down for a customary kiss.

"So, you knew you'd be leaving today and yet you accused me of abandoning you? That's just unfair; I spent all of yesterday feeling guilty for no reason." Layla felt as though she was at a disadvantage. Had she not planned that weekend getaway, she would be the one left behind.

"You're so devious."

"I'm a businessman," Samuel teased, a smile playing on his lips. "In love and war, all is fair."

"Terrible capitalist."

"Don't have too much fun without me, and remember to miss me. I'll be missing you greatly."

At his sincere words, Layla's irritation dissolved instantly, replaced by a sweet, lingering sentiment.

...

By half-past nine in the morning, Layla was standing early at the entrance of the Eilish Group, ready to sign in before boarding the 20-seat shuttle bus.

Engrossed in her music, she was jolted from her reverie by Mr. Smith waving his hand in front of her eyes.

"Mr. Smith," Layla quickly removed her wireless earbuds.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Even as Mr. Smith asked, he was already settling into the seat, leaving Layla to glance helplessly at Alice, who had just boarded the bus. She had reserved this seat for her.

"Miss Adkins, is it too formal to address you as such? May I call you Layla?"

She nodded.

"Layla, you're twenty years old?"

"Twenty-one."

"Still in school?"

"Yes, a senior. I'm graduating this year."

"Oh, to be a student again! I miss those days," Mr. Smith sighed. "Once upon a time, I was just as youthful as you."

Out of courtesy, Layla responded: "You still look very young."

"Do I?" Mr. Smith seemed pleased with the compliment. "People often tell me I don't look a day over thirty. I wouldn't want to seem too old next to you; someone might mistake me for your uncle."

Layla offered an awkward chuckle.

"Besides sketching, do you have any other hobbies?"

"I enjoy watching movies and listening to music."

"Me too. Perhaps I could take you to a movie sometime?"

"There doesn't seem to be any good new releases lately. Maybe another time," Layla replied, offering a polite smile before attempting to put her earbud back in. However, Mr. Smith took it and put it on himself. "I like this song too. See? No generation gap here. I'm still young at heart."

Throughout the journey, Mr. Smith had been desperately trying to engage Layla in conversation, attempting to ingratiate himself with her. Secretly, Layla wished she could throw him out the window, but she just withstood it, conversing intermittently while enduring the disdainful looks from Gioanna and Jane-her silent grievances mounting within her.