Waylen suddenly smiles and says, “Ask me again.”
“What?” Leilani asks confused, “About having your child?”
Waylen shakes his head, “No, ask about the one before that.”
“What do five slaps mean?” Leilani asks, trying to understand what he’s playing at.
“No, the one before that,” Waylen says.
Leilani frowns and works hard at remembering their conversation. Waylen takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each finger.
“Four means you’re in love,” Waylen says, “Ask me if I’m in love with you.”
Leilani feels fireworks popping inside her mind, she doesn’t know if it’s the heat of Waylen’s fingertips or his words, but everything seems to go fuzzy.
“Tell me, do you want me to love you?” Waylen asks.
“I don’t!” Leilani responds automatically.
She has conditioned herself to reject him and keep her distance. The lack of hesitation in her refusal twists the dagger in Waylen’s heart a little further. Waylen’s face becomes a mask of indifference—he refuses to let her see how badly her refusal hurts him.
“Is this because you want to renege on the divorce agreement?” Leilani asks, “You want me to have children so Diana can return—”
An abrupt and insistent knocking at the door cuts her off.
“Sir, there are lots of journalists outside,” Robert Tinder announces, “They say they have a photo of you and Mrs. Bamford signing divorce papers.”
Robert’s voice is anxious. He knows that Waylen and Leilani are in the room, and he knows his boss would be furious if he were interrupted while making love. At the same time, Robert knows that the situation is urgent.
“What?” Waylen’s look darkens.
He’s no longer interested in hearing what Leilani has to say about love or children. He fiercely pinches Leilani’s waist.
“It was you who told them, wasn’t it?” he hisses.
He recalls Leilani’s initial plans to announce the divorce at a press conference at the Bamford house, and her effort to start the rumor that Leonie would replace her. He can’t believe that she has maintained such close contact with the media without his knowledge of it.
There are only two copies of the divorce agreement—one copy for each of them. He destroyed his copy the moment he signed it. He doesn’t want to let her go in six months, and he was counting on that time to win her back. But now it seems that Leilani won’t even give him six months.
“Is she that desperate to leave me?” he wonders.
Leilani is shocked by the news, but she instantly suspects Janetta.
“Janetta was the only one who saw me holding the papers—she must have gone back and looked for them after I left the room,” Leilani thinks, “I can’t believe I went to Waylen just to help her! This truly is betrayal!”
“It wasn’t me,” Leilani announces, “The agreement takes effect in six months, and I don’t have to go to the press—I just have to wait.”
Waylen sneers. His eyes are icy and fierce.
“Really?” He asks, the mistrust evident in his voice.
His tone stings Leilani, and she flinches as he applies more pressure on her waist. It feels as if he’s trying to reach inside her body. She feels cold sweat on her face.
“Don’t you trust me?” she asks, “You think that after three and a half years, I can’t wait six months?”
“We’re the only ones who have access to the papers,” Waylen says, “I need evidence to believe it wasn’t you.”
Leilani bites her lip. She can’t offer any evidence—she only has vague suspicions about her sister.
“Don’t have any?” Waylen sneers.
He pushes her away from him and she stumbles and falls to the floor. Waylen approaches her, his face a cold, violent mask, but then he steps away like a frustrating beast. He grits his teeth and approaches her again, grabbing her by the jaw. His bloodshot eyes come closer to her face. Although Leilani has frequently seen Waylen’s angry faces, the ferocity of his look still shocks her. She closes her eyes and raises her jaw defiantly as if daring him to do something.
Waylen checks his temper and pulls away from her. He feels as if his heart has been torn out of his chest; the pain is terrible, and he doesn’t know how to channel it. He stomps over to the glass-topped coffee table and sweeps everything off of it. The bottles and glasses crash to the floor and shatter, and the heavy scent of alcohol fills the room.
“It wasn’t me,” Leilani insists.
Waylen ignores her, glaring with livid rage.
“How could I possibly love you?” Waylen says, gritting his teeth with each word,
“I could never love you. I will never love you. Never!”
“Really?” Waylen asks himself, “If I didn’t love her this wouldn’t hurt so badly.”
Waylen slams the door with such force, the furniture shakes. Leilani is left buried in Waylen’s rage and anger. She always knew that he didn’t love her, but hearing him say it out loud has caused a painful sensation in her chest. It feels as though her heart has sunk into the abyss of her stomach. She doesn’t want to leave things like that.
She carefully avoids the broken bottles and tries to stand up. She’s about to rush after Waylen when she realizes she’s still wearing her bathrobe. With a glance, she chooses a high-necked dress to cover the hickeys Waylen has put on her neck. She snatches it from the hanger and then hangs it back up with great agitation. She grabs another dress: a one-shouldered piece that makes her bruised neck look as elegant as a swan’s.
The guests in the main hall are busy gossiping, and the cacophony of their voices makes the room quite noisy. The party as supposed to boost the Peters’ image, but it’s embroiling them in another scandal instead.
“Please, I beg you to not speculate,” Anthony says over and over, “If it was true, Mr. Bamford would give us an explanation. Please, just get back to enjoying the party. I implore the press to leave and wait for further news.”
Though the air conditioning is at full blast, the dancing hall is swelteringly hot. Everyone has crowded into the room in the hopes of hearing more about Waylen and Leilani. Anthony wipes sweat from his forehead as he tries to reason with and cajole the press, but the journalists ignore him—they know he doesn’t have any real power. Anthony tries to recruit Waylen’s bodyguards to throw the journalists out, but the guards refuse to act without Waylen’s direct order.
Vanessa fans her face with her hand. The smell of all those bodies and perfumes makes her feel sick. Janetta stands on her tiptoes and counts the guests. She stops when she reaches 116.
“That’s quite a turnout,” Vanessa says.
“The more the better,” Janetta smirks, “Last time the divorce news turned into a pregnancy plan, but it won’t be so easy for them to explain it away this time.”
“The evidence is indisputable,” Vanessa replies, “The doc.u.ments were notarized and the notaries have confirmed it. What can Waylen and Leilani possibly say?”
“I don’t know,” Janetta says nervously, “But don’t you agree that Leilani is harder to deal with now?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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