'I Do' For Revenge
Chapter 196: Felt Nothing For Him
CHAPTER 196: FELT NOTHING FOR HIM
LAYLA’S POV
"Charles Watson," Mar co repeated the name, tasting it like spoiled milk.
He looked at me in surpr ise. "Isn’t that your father? Owner of Wa tson Holdings?"
"Point of correction," I said flatly. "Adopted father. And that relationship ended months ago."
Marco chuckled , a dark sound that held no real hum our. He turned back to Henr y, his surprised expression changing to a mix of disgust and dark amusement. "How did y ou get involved with someone like Charle s Wa tson?"
"It was his idea!" Henry exclaimed, clea rly losing his cool. He was sweating heavily now, the expensive fabric of his suit darkenin g under his arms and at the co llar. "He set up the shell companies! He said we co uld hide it in the bo oks! He has the access codes to the offshore accounts for t he twenty million!"
I watched Henry fall apart like a cheap sweater. The arrogant shark who had lectured me about "men’s work" was now just a desperate coward, ready to sell out anyone to save his own skin.
"I see," Marco s aid, glancing at his silent guard. The guard nodded once and began typing ra pidly on his phone.
"Yes! Charles doesn’t suspect anything yet!" Henry babbled. "If you hurry, you can catch him at his hous e! He thinks he’s safe! Just... just let me go, and I’ll help you get the rest. I swear! I’ll give you account number s, passwords, everything!"
"You’ll give me those thing s anyway, " Marco said calmly.
"Yes! Yes , of course! Whatever you want!" Henry’s voice cra cked. " I can still be useful!"
Marco look ed at Hen ry like one might examine a particular ly disgusting in sect, and then turned his gaze to me. His eyes were calculating and assessing.
"You have be en very thorough, Mrs. O’Brien," Marco said in a deceptively light voice. "I underestimated you."
"Most people do," I said, meeting his gaze eve nly. "I clean up my own messes, Marco. And I clean up the ones others leave on my doorstep. The debt is clear now. It wasn’ t wit h O’Brien Group or Eclip se Beauty... it never was. You w ere pointed at the wrong target."
"True," Marco agreed, nodding slowly.
He walked over to Henry, who flinched visibly as if Marco were about to strike him. Instead, Marco placed a hea vy hand on Henry’s shoulder, gripping it hard enough that Henry winced.
"Mr. Porter here is going to be my guest for a while," Marco sai d casually, as if discussing dinner plans.
"What ?" Henry gasped, his eyes going wide. "No! No, wait! I told you where Cha rles i s! I gave y ou everything !"
"You did," Marco said calmly, tightening his grip. "And if my men catch him and recover my twenty million, perhaps your stay will be... comfortab le. But until I have every single c ent o f my ni nety millio n dollars back in my accou nts, you belong to me. You are colla teral."
"You can’t do this!" Henry’s voice rose to a panicked pitch. He looked at me desperately as he pleaded. "Layla! Tell him! Y ou can’t let him take me! I’m a partner! I’m... I’m family!"
I looked at him... I mean, re ally looked at him.
I thought about Axel lying in that hospital bed with a fractured spine, tubes and wires keeping him alive. I thought about Helena trembling in her apartment, believing she’d killed her boss and the guilt from having to give out her brother.
I thought about the terror of th e explosion, the heat of the flames, and the s mell of smoke that still clung to t he walls of this ro o m like a ghost.
"You aren’t fa mily, Henry," I said coldly. "And you aren’t a partner. You’re a thief a nd a coward. You’re a liability."
I looked at Marco. "Take him. Just make sure h e doesn’t com e back until the money clears."
"And after that?" Marco asked with a cruel smile playing on his lips. "When the debt is paid? What do you want me to do with him then?"
I looked at Henry one la st time. He looke d small now , pathetic an d terrified. All the polish and arrogance stripped away to reveal the hollow man beneath.
"Return him to me," I said. "I ha v e my own accounts to settle with him. Legal ones. I want him prosecuted for embezzlement, fraud, and every other charge I can make stick. I want him to rot in prison, not disappear into whatever hole you ’d put him in."
Marco chuckled, genuinely a mused. "Understood. A pleasure doing business with you, niña. Y ou are far more ruthless than your husband. I r espect that."
He signalled his guard. The man moved with blurring spe ed, grabbing Henry by the arm and twisting it behind his back in one smooth motion.
Henry screamed, but Marco’s man marched him toward th e door with little effort, as if Henry weighed nothing at all.
"Layla! Layla, please!" Henry begged, dragging his heels against the carpet, trying to slow their progress. "Don’t do this! They’ll kill m e! You know they’ll kill me!"
"They won’t kil l you, Henry," I called o ut as they dragged him into the hallway. "Not as long as you’re worth seventy million dollars. You’d better hope your bank transfer s go through fast. And you better pray Charles gives up that twenty million w ithout a fight."
"Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!" Henry’s voice became muffled as they pulled him farther away.
The door slammed shut, cutting off his wails mid-scream.
Silence returned to the boardroom; the kind of sile nce that r ings in your ears after a gunshot.
I stood there for a mom ent, letting it wash over me. My hands were steady, and my breathing was calm. I felt nothing for Henry Porter... no guilt, no satisfaction, nothing but cold pragmatism.
Marco tur ned back to lo ok at me; he hadn’t left y et. He held my g aze for a few seconds.
"You surprise me," he admitted in an almost respectful tone. "M ost women in your position would have crumbled. They would have begged, cried , and offered themselves as payment. But you..." He shook his head slowly. "You have the heart of a wolf, Mrs. O’Brien. You remind me of my own mother. She was fierce like you."
He stepped closer, moving into the light.
"I misjudged you," he continued. "I thought you were just a pretty face hiding behind your husband’s re putation. I thought breaking him would break you. I was wrong."
He extended a hand as a gesture of respect... a peace offering between predat ors who had found common ground.
"Perhaps we can do legitimate business in the future," Marco said. "When all this ugliness is behind us. You clearly know how to handle difficult situations. That is a valuable trait."
I looked at his hand. I looked at the man who had sent the b omb that nearly k illed my husband. The man who had terrorised me with threats and deadlines. The man who had almo st destroyed everything Ax el and I had built together.
I thought about Axel’s broken body in that hospital bed. I tho ught about the fear in his eyes when he’d thrown h imself over me. I thought about the twenty-four hours of hell I’d lived through, not knowing if he would survive.
I stepped forward , but didn’t take his hand . Instead, I slap ped him.