Chapter 10
Switzerland offered Layla a kind of silence she hadn’t known she needed–peaceful, snow–covered mornings, the soft hum of jazz in the background of chic cafés, and the comforting presence of her brother, Lucas. Her days were filled with work–reviewing contracts, sitting in on business meetings, drafting strategies alongside her brother for the European expansion of their family’s company. She wore soft sweaters, tied her hair in loose buns, and smiled more these days.”
But peace didn’t always mean forgetting.
Her phone, sleek and silent on the table beside her, continued to flash with unread messages. Calls she didn’t answer. Names she no longer wanted to see. And always–Brent.N
He messaged her often. Too often. Sometimes just her name. Sometimes long messages full of things he should’ve said when she was still there.
She ignored every single one.
Until a particular message stopped her mid–sentence, while she sat on the sofa reviewing a portfolio.
It’s Father’s birthday soon. He misses you. We all do. Please come, Layla.
She stared at the message. Not because of the content—it didn’t surprise her–but because of the emotion behind it. She could practically hear his voice, see the weariness in his eyes. But that didn’t change the past. It didn’t undo the way he had made her feel small, replaceable, invisible.
Of course she remembered Mr. Westwood’s birthday. The man had treated her more like a daughter than Brent ever treated her as a wife. She had already sent her gift through a trusted courier two days ago–a handpicked luxury watch she remembered him admiring once, along with a second item… one that made her hand tremble a little when she signed the delivery form.
Her thoughts were broken when Lucas entered the room.
“Still working?” he asked, stepping inside with two cups of warm tea.
Layla nodded and set the folder down.”
Lucas sat beside her, handing her a cup. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied gently, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.”
He didn’t push. But after a moment, he said, “I’ve arranged something for you.”
Layla turned her head.”
“A date.”
She blinked. “A date?“>
Lucas grinned. “You need it. A normal guy. No secrets, no lies, no-” he waved vaguely-“obsessions.“@
She laughed under her breath. “I don’t know…“]
“It’s not a proposal, Layla. It’s just dinner.”
She stared into her tea for a while, then finally nodded. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
Maybe it was time to try. Not to replace Brent–but to let him go.
Back in the Westwood estate, the family had gathered in the grand hall. Strings of gold and white balloons, crystal chandeliers, and classical music filled the air. Laughter echoed through the room as old friends and powerful families toasted the head of the family.” Brent stood to the side, drink untouched in his hand, gaze sweeping the crowd–every face accounted for except the one he wanted to see.D
His father laughed at something a guest said, then looked around.
“Where’s Layla?” he asked suddenly, his brow furrowing. “Why isn’t she here?“}]
Brent straightened. “She’s… on her way. Just wait a little longer, Dad.“}]
It was a lie.
He didn’t know if she’d ever come back. But some part of him–a part he hated for its hope–still believed she might walk through the doors in a velvet dress, smiling like old times. That part of him was killing him slowly.
Later, as the guests mingled, Celeste found him alone by the fountain in the garden.
“She didn’t come,” she said, her voice soft but tight.”
Brent didn’t answer.
“You should tell your father,” she continued. “Tell him about us. We can’t keep pretending.”
“No,” he said instantly.
Celeste’s eyes flared. “Why not? Brent, are you still expecting her to come back?”
He stared at her, something unreadable passing through his face.”
Then, just as he opened his mouth to answer, a voice called from the hall.
“Sir! There’s a delivery for Mr. Westwood Senior.”
Two suited men came forward, carrying a sleek wooden box and a sealed envelope.
“A gift from Mrs. Layla Westwood,” one of them announced.”
The room buzzed with interest.“)
Brent’s father looked surprised, but smiled as he opened the box. Inside was a stunning, limited–edition platinum watch–sleek, expensive, engraved on the back with “To the only man who truly treated me like family.“}
But it was the envelope that stunned him.”
He opened it.
The smile vanished from his face.”
“Divorce papers?” he said aloud, his voice sharp and incredulous. “Layla is divorcing you?”
The room fell silent.
“What the hell did you do, Brent?” his father demanded, eyes flashing.”
Brent said nothing. He couldn’t.
He only reached for the paper, his hands trembling slightly as he crumpled it into his fist.”
His father’s voice chased him as he walked away from the stunned party.”
“Where are you going?!”
Brent didn’t turn back.
“I’m going to get back my wife.”
