Chapter 43
Layla had just lifted a slice of steak to her mouth when the words reached her.
She stopped mid-bite. The fork hovered in the air. Slowly, her hand lowered.
Something dark flickered across her face. Then heat rushed up her spine…hot, sudden, and ugly.
The metal fork clattered onto her plate.
She pushed back her chair and stood.
Heads turned.
Her heels clicked sharply against the stone as she crossed the lawn toward the buffet table, each step stiff with wounded pride.
“Uncle Gerald,” she called, her voice already trembling.
It wasn’t soft or sweet, like she usually talks.
She looked fragile and vulnerable.
“You’re being unfair p>
All eyes shifted to her.
She swallowed, fingers curling into the fabric of her dress.
“Daddy already has me. He raised me since I was three.” Her voice cracked despite herself. “Why would he need another daughter p>
The last word sounded smaller than she intended.
Pathetic, almost.
A ripple spread through the crowd.
People started whispering.
“I heard that girl lost her parents in the accident tied to the General p>
“General Norse is too kind. He doesn’t have to carry that guilt forever p>
“But look at her… doesn’t she resemble him a little p>
“I don’t see it. The eyes are wrong. The Norse family doesn’t have eyes like that p>
The murmuring grew louder. Each one becoming more speculative than the last.
Who said that the wives of military men were disciplined more than the others?
Many were hungry for gossip.
Like vultures circling.
Then—
The torchlights flickered.
The warm gold glow deepened… shifting… mellowing into amber.
Lara blinked. The light brushed across her face, across her eyes.
The color changed. It was honey-brown, almost identical to Leonard’s.
A sharp intake of breath sounded nearby.
“Did you see p>
But before the man could finish, the torches shifted again.
It became green, cooler, and paler.
Lara’s eyes changed with it.
The illusion vanished.
The man stared, uncertain and uneasy. Did he see it wrong?
“Don’t talk nonsense,” someone muttered quickly, forcing a laugh. “Lots of people look alike p>
But the damage was done. No one sounded convinced.
And now—
Everyone was looking at her, and then Leonard.
Layla’s nails bit into her palms.
She hated it.
Hated the way everyone’s attention slid past her like she was invisible.
Like she didn’t matter anymore. Like she wasn’t already his daughter.
“Enough,” Leonard said.
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The single word cut cleanly through the murmurs.
Silence dropped instantly. Years of command still lived in that tone.
“This is a birthday dinner,” he added, calm but firm. “Not a place for watching a show p>
A few guests shifted awkwardly, their eyes lowered.
But the air stayed thick.
Artemio watched from the side, lips curling faintly, like he was enjoying the spectacle far too much.
Layla forced a laugh. Too bright. Too brittle.
“Everyone’s overthinking,” she said, looping her arm around Leonard’s. “Daddy, come sit. Your food’s getting cold p>
Her action was possessive and deliberate.
It wasn’t showing her affection. She was making a statement!
She shot Lara a glance, her gaze angry and threatening.
Leonard didn’t move.
Instead, he turned to Lara.
“You haven’t eaten much,” he said gently. “Try the desserts. The chef outdid himself p>
His words were simple and casual. But the care in them landed like a slap.
Layla’s smile froze.
Because of that tone, that soft, fatherly tone, she recognized it.
He used to speak to her like that. The crowd noticed too. Of course they did.
Officers observed everything.
Lara, meanwhile, just nodded.
“Thank you, General.” Her voice was polite and casual.
No clinging. No pleading. No performance.
Like she didn’t care whether she was accepted or not.
And somehow, that made her presence even heavier.
Artemio’s gaze sharpened.
Interesting, his eyes seemed to say.
The kind of girl who doesn’t beg to belong…was she still the girl she trained?
Damn amnesia!
The music started up again. Like the party was trying to pretend nothing had happened.
People drifted back to their tables, conversations resuming in cautious bursts.
But the glances didn’t stop.
They never did.
Lara balanced two small dessert plates in her hands and slipped away from the buffet, heading toward the quieter edge of the garden where the hedges cast long shadows.
She passed a plate to Shay before continuing to the edge of the lawn.
The place was in the corner. There were fewer stares and more peace.
Or so she thought.
“Enjoying yourself p>
The voice followed her like a hook.
It was pleasantly sweet but sharp underneath.
“Layla p>
Lara stopped walking but didn’t turn immediately.
Footsteps clicked closer on the stone path at the edges of the lawn.
Layla came to stand in front of her, blocking the way.
Up close, the fragility showed. Her smile was perfect. Her eyes weren’t.
“You work fast,” Layla said lightly. “You’ve only been awake a few days, and you already have Daddy defending you in front of everyone p>
Lara blinked. “I didn’t ask him to p>
“That’s the problem,” Layla replied.
A beat.
“You didn’t have to p>
The music swelled in the distance mixed with laughter and the clinking of glasses.
None of it reached them.
Layla crossed her arms.
“So what’s your plan p>
Lara was thoughtful.
“Don’t play dumb.” The sweetness thinned. “Moving in. Getting close to Shay. Now Daddy wants to adopt you.” Her jaw tightened. “What are you after p>
Lara looked genuinely puzzled. Then she narrowed her eyes.
“Nothing p>
Layla laughed sarcastically.
She stepped closer.
Close enough that Lara could smell her perfume—floral, expensive, but suffocating.
“You know they raised me, right?” Layla said. “When no one else wanted me, they gave me a home. A name. Everything p>
Her voice cracked—just slightly.
“So tell me,” she whispered, “why should I share him with you p>
There it was. Not anger but fear, raw and ugly.
Lara studied her for a long moment, then spoke quietly.
“At first, I didn’t want to,” Lara said. Calm. Matter-of-fact. “But knowing there is someone like you, now I want it p>
She shifted the plate and held it out.
“Dessert p>
The normalcy of it hit harder than any insult.
Layla stared at the pastry as if it were an attack.
“You think this is funny p>
“No,” Lara said.
“I think you’re scared p>
Layla’s breath caught.
“You don’t know anything about me, about this family p>
“You’re right,” Lara said softly. “But I know what it’s like to lose parents p>
Layla’s expression wavered.
For a second, the hostility cracked.
Something younger peeked through.
Then—
Her pride snapped back into place. She slapped the plate away.
It didn’t fall, but the frosting smeared.
“You’ll regret it,” she said coldly. “I’ll make sure your life will be like hell p>
She stepped back, chin lifting.
“This is my home. My family. No one can take it away from me p>
A pause, then, quieter—
“Don’t forget that p>
She turned and walked away without looking back.
Perfect posture, perfect steps. But her clenched fists betrayed her.
Lara watched her go.
Then glanced down at the slightly ruined dessert.
And calmly took a bite anyway.