5. LAYLA
5
LAYLA
I sit across from William, my financial advisor, in what used to be my dream boutique. Now, it’s a disaster zone. Water-stained walls, ruined fabrics, the overwhelming scent of damp wood. The wreckage of everything I worked for.
William adjusts his glasses, pressing his lips into a thin, grim line. “Layla, I’m sorry. But there’s not much I can do here.”
A weight settles in my chest.
“No, there has to be something.” My voice wavers. I haven’t slept. I’ve had too much caffeine and way too many thoughts spiraling in my head. “You’re the expert, right? You help people through things like this.”
He shakes his head, flipping through the thick folder of financial statements. “I’m an expert, not a magician.”
I swallow hard. “There has to be a way.”
William exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The repair costs alone are in the thousands, and you’ll need three times that to replace your inventory. A bank loan might be an option, but…” He hesitates, glancing up at me. “You already have a significant one in your name.”
My stomach clenches.
Three years ago, I took out a loan to build something for myself. To prove I could. The plan had always been to repay it once the business took off. I never expected to be drowning before I even got my footing.
“Can I take out another one?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He shakes his head. “Highly unlikely. Your current financial standing makes it next to impossible. And even if a bank approves you, you’d be walking straight into bankruptcy. If you default on another loan, you won’t just lose your shop, Layla. You’ll lose everything.”
The words hit like a slap.
I tighten my grip on the edge of the table. “So, what am I supposed to do?”
William leans forward, his expression softening. “Honestly? You need an angel investor. Someone willing to front the money.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, because investors are dying to throw money into a flooded shop.”
He doesn’t argue. Just sighs. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but… maybe you should take a break. Let things settle. Then figure out your next move.”
Give up?
No!
This isn’t just a business. It’s my life. I built this from nothing. I fought for it. I can’t just walk away.
“Can you at least try?” My voice cracks. “See if there’s any way I can get a loan?”
William sighs, gathering his papers. “I’ll make some calls. But don’t get your hopes up.”
He stands, offering me a small, apologetic nod before heading for the door.
The second he’s gone, I exhale shakily, pressing a hand to my forehead.
This is bad. Really bad.
My mind races for a solution, but I come up blank. I have no options.
Then, a voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.
“Layla?”
I freeze.
That voice.
I turn slowly, and my breath catches.
Valentino.
Standing a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets, looking as effortlessly put together as ever. Black shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair styled just enough to look careless, but I know better.
He looks… good.
Better than I remember.
The years have only sharpened his features, adding an edge of maturity to the boyish arrogance that once defined him.
For a moment, it’s like the ground shifts beneath me.
What the hell is he doing here?
“Bad time?” He watches me carefully.
My heart pounds.
This is the first time I’ve seen him since that night three years ago, and suddenly, all the memories rush back. The touch of his skin on mine. The way he kissed me. That fateful phone call. The way I left the next morning without a word. The way I tried, and failed, to forget him.
I clear my throat. “I… yeah. I mean, no. I just…”
I shut my mouth, flustered.
He exhales, as if relieved. “I was hoping for a few minutes of your time. Coffee, maybe? There’s a shop down the street.”
I hesitate, glancing at my ruined boutique. The last thing I want is for him to see it like this.
I should say no.
Instead, I hear myself say, “Sure. Just… give me a second.”
I rush inside, fumbling through my bag for my compact mirror. My hands shake as I dust powder over my face, patting down my hair.
Why am I doing this? I shouldn’t care how I look. I don’t care.
Except… I do.
When I step back outside, he’s still there, waiting. His eyes flicker with something unreadable when he sees me.
“After you.” He motions for me to walk beside him.
We head toward the café in silence, tension crackling between us.
We sit across from each other, the tension thick as I stir my coffee, pretending I don’t feel the heat of his gaze on me.
He clears his throat. “You look well.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You mean ‘not dead’? Because that’s what you must have assumed when I disappeared.”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t smirk. “I don’t hold grudges, Layla.”
I don’t know why, but the way he says my name, like he’s testing the way it feels in his mouth, makes my stomach flutter. I force myself to stay still.
“How did you find me?”
“Through a mutual friend.” He leans back, fingers tapping lightly against his coffee cup. “I heard about your shop.”
I stiffen. “Listen, I don't need your pity.”
He exhales through his nose, looking almost amused. “No. I came because I have a proposition.”
I scoff. “What, you need a new suit tailored?”
He ignores me and pulls something from his pocket, sliding it across the table.
A check.
My eyes drop to the number.
Fifty. Thousand. Dollars.
My breath stutters.
“What the—” My gaze snaps to him. “Are you insane?”
His expression remains unreadable. “That depends. Do you think it’s crazy for someone to want a mutually beneficial arrangement?”
I narrow my eyes. “What are you talking about? Mutually beneficial how?”
“I told my father I’m in a serious relationship. Now, he expects to meet her. That’s where you come in.”
The words barely register.
Fake dating? Is this real life?
“My father wants to see me settle down, then and only then will he consider stepping down from the company and passing the reins to me.”
I scoff. “You could have any woman on your arm, Valentino. Why me?”
His jaw clenches slightly, as if I touched a nerve. “Because I need someone who won’t get the wrong idea. Someone who understands this is just a business transaction.”
“And you think I wouldn’t get the wrong idea?”
“You left before dawn the last time we saw each other. I’d say that makes you the perfect candidate.”
I swallow. “So, that’s why you tracked me down?”
“I could’ve found someone else.” He shrugs. “But I’m a businessman, Layla. And I see an opportunity when it presents itself.”
His words send a chill through me. Because, deep down, I know he’s right. This deal… it’s serendipity. I need the money. He needs a fake girlfriend.
I exhale shakily. “You’re really serious about this?”
“Yes.”
I glance at the check again.
Fifty grand.
It could save my store.
But it also means getting tangled up with him.
I bite my lip.
I should say no.
But instead, I murmur, “I’ll think about it.”
His expression flickers. Is that relief?
He extends a hand. “I hope you make the right choice.”
I shake it, ignoring the way my skin tingles at the touch.
Then, I make an excuse to leave, rushing out of the café before I do something stupid.
Like say yes.
The second I step into Giana’s apartment, exhaustion settles deep into my bones. The weight of the day presses down on me, but at the sound of tiny feet pattering against the hardwood floor everything else fades away.
“Mama!”
My heart clenches, and warmth spreads through my chest as Vincent comes running toward me, his little arms outstretched.
I barely have time to drop my purse before scooping him up, holding him close to my chest.
“Oh, baby. I missed you,” I whisper into his soft curls, inhaling his familiar, comforting scent, the mix of baby shampoo and something uniquely him.
I pepper kisses all over his chubby cheeks, making him giggle.
The sound is pure magic. My anchor. My everything.
I cradle his small body against mine, feeling the warmth of his tiny hands as they clutch at my shirt. Every part of me, every ounce of stress and doubt that had consumed me throughout the day, melts in his presence.
“You were gone soooo long, Mama,” His voice is almost accusing but filled with nothing but love.
I pull back slightly to look into his big, brown eyes. Eyes that always remind me of his father, though I try to ignore the thought.
“I know, sweetheart.” I push a curl away from his forehead. “But I’m here now. And I love you more than anything in this world.”
He smiles, resting his head against my shoulder, his tiny fingers playing with the fabric of my shirt. “I love you too, Mama.”
This.
This is everything.
It’s in these quiet, stolen moments that I feel the depth of what it means to be a mother. The overwhelming, all-consuming love. The fierce protectiveness. The unshakable bond that nothing, not time, not distance, not hardship, could ever break.
I close my eyes and hold him a little tighter.
How many nights had I stayed awake, worrying about our future? How many sacrifices had I made just to make sure he had a happy, stable life? Being a single mother wasn’t easy, God, it was never easy, but I would endure anything for him.
I glance over at Giana, who watches us with a knowing expression.
She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell she’s waiting. She knows I have something on my mind.
I settle onto the couch with Vincent still wrapped in my arms, his little fingers playing absently with my necklace.
He looks tired and feels just a bit warmer than usual.
Then again, that might just be me being paranoid. Or trying to get out of this conversation.
Giana finally speaks. “So… are you going to tell me what’s got you looking like you just walked through a hurricane?”
I hesitate, my fingers tightening slightly around Vincent’s small body. “I ran into someone today.”
Her brows lift in interest. “Someone as in…?”
I take a breath. “Valentino Marchetti.”
Her jaw drops. “No way.”
I shift Vincent slightly as he nestles closer against me, already starting to doze off. His warm, even breaths against my neck ground me, keeping me from spiraling. I guess he really was tired.
“Yep. And he offered me a deal.”
Giana’s eyes widen. “What kind of deal?”
I hesitate before answering, being careful not to disclose everything. “He heard about the shop and wants to be a silent investor. He’s offering me fifty thousand dollars.”
Giana sucks in a sharp breath, her mouth opening and closing like she doesn’t know whether to be shocked or excited. “You’re kidding.”
I shake my head.
She blinks. “So, let me get this straight. Valentino Marchetti, the Valentino, wants to invest in the shop? No strings attached?”
“Well, we still have to go through the details. I guess he saw an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.”
Giana exhales, leaning back onto the couch as if she’s processing. “Well, damn.”
I bite my lip, looking down at Vincent as he sleeps soundly in my arms. His peaceful face, the slight pout of his lips, he has no idea how much I worry about keeping our world intact.
Ever since I found out I was pregnant three years ago, it had been just the two of us. And in those three years, I have fought like hell to give him a good life. But now? My boutique is falling apart. My finances are a mess. And my options? Limited.
Fifty thousand dollars.
That money could save my business. It could buy us security, something I desperately need for Vincent’s future.
It’s crazy. Reckless, even.
But could I really afford to say no?
Giana studies me for a long moment before sighing. “There must be some catch, I’d be double careful.”
I let out a long, tired breath, pressing my lips to Vincent’s warm forehead as I whisper, “I know, Giana. But I have to think about what’s best for him.”
Because for Vincent, I would do anything. Even make a deal with the devil.