The Unexpected Inheritance

Episode6

Chapter 6: Paper Trails and Dinner Tales

As the evening light began to fade, it was time for Layla to go home. Just as she finished packing her things in the office, Zara knocked, Layla asked who was there and told the person to come in. “Hello, Miss”.

“Hello Zara, Where were you all day?” Layla asked, glancing around the empty office. “I didn’t even notice you around.”

Zara straightened her back slightly and replied, “My job is to ensure your safety, which sometimes means being unseen. It’s all part of being a bodyguard.”

Layla nodded, acknowledging the unsparing nature of Zara’s role. They left the office together, and Layla couldn’t help but admire the sleek, unfamiliar vehicle parked outside. Zara opened the door for her, and as they settled into the car, Layla’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Is this a new car?” Layla asked, her fingers tracing the polished interior.

“Yes, it’s yours, Ma’am. Mr. Montgomery arranged it for you,”

“He did? Why didn't he let me know that he had already secured the car?” Layla asked, her brows knitting together in confusion.

“Also, could you please call me by my name instead of Ms. Sinclair or Ma’am? I would appreciate that,” Layla added, her tone softening as she sought a more personal connection.

“Of course, Layla,” Zara responded with a small smile, her eyes sparkling with a mix of understanding and warmth.

As the car rolled away, Layla stared out the window, lost in thought. She felt a growing urge to speak with Reed about making decisions about her without notifying her and about the discrepancies she noticed.

The city whizzed by, a blur of lights and life, while Layla contemplated her solitude awaiting at home.

When they arrived at the house, Mrs. Agatha was bustling in the kitchen, her hands skillfully preparing dinner.

“Good evening, Layla!” Mrs. Agatha called out cheerfully, wiping her hands on her apron as she turned to greet her. “How was your day?”

“It was fine, thank you,” Layla replied, her lips curling into a smile. “It seems like you’ve been busy.”

“Yes, much to do around here! But please, just call me Agatha. The ‘Mrs.’ makes me feel older than my years!” Agatha chuckled, and they shared a light laughter that brought a brief sense of comfort to Layla’s heart.

After their conversation, Layla made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She took a moment to freshen up, running her fingers through her tousled hair and splashing cool water on her face to shake off the fatigue of the day. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she settled down at her desk, surrounded by a stack of documents that lay waiting for her attention. Images of her flower shop danced in her mind, reminding her of the joy she felt working amongst the colorful blooms. It was hard to reconcile that simple pleasure with the current task of poring over paperwork.

Just then, Mrs. Agatha knocked softly before entering, her arms balanced with a tray of fresh snacks—an assortment of fruits and light pastries, carefully arranged. “I thought you might enjoy a little something before dinner,” she said warmly, placing the tray on the desk. “Dinner will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you, Agatha,” Layla said, a feeling of gratitude swelling within her for the small act of kindness. However, as the minutes slipped by, Layla couldn't help but notice that Reed was still not home. She went downstairs for dinner and sat down at the grand dining table, but the silence in the vast room was deafening. Agatha had gone home, immediately after setting the table and serving the food. The absence of Reed felt palpable, intensifying her feelings of loneliness as she pushed her food around her plate, each bite swallowed with a knot of unease in her stomach. She wondered if this was her new reality; she had always shared dinner with Tanya, so eating alone felt strange.

Feeling the weight of the silence grew heavier, Layla picked up her phone, remembering she had taken Zara's number in the car. She dialed, “Hi Zara, could you join me for dinner?” she asked, hoping for the possibility of a conversation to lighten the mood in the empty house.

"Of course, Layla," Zara responded, "I'll be right there."

Zara's presence brought a sense of normalcy to the otherwise silent meal. Layla found comfort in Zara's quiet company, smiling slightly she said "You know, I’ve been meaning to ask… How did you end up in this line of work? I mean, being a bodyguard isn’t exactly something you hear about every day and if you're not comfortable with telling me, I understand"

Zara glancing up, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth) "It's fine, It’s not everyday, is it?" "I guess you could say it was a bit of a...accident."

Layla was intrigued "An accident?"

"Yeah. I was training to be a paramedic at first. I’ve always been into medical stuff—helping people, you know? But during one of my internships, I got caught in the middle of a situation where I had to help more than just with injuries." She pauses, her gaze momentarily drifting to the window. "There was a shooting at the hospital. I had to protect some of the patients and staff until the police arrived. I didn’t really think much of it at the time, but… I guess someone took notice."

Layla leaned forward, her curiosity piqued "Someone took notice?"

"Yeah, a security consultant who was there during the incident. He was impressed by how I stayed calm and focused, even though things were chaotic. He asked me if I’d ever considered a career in personal protection. I laughed it off at first. But then, I started looking into it more, and the idea stuck."

Layla nodding thoughtfully "So you just... switched careers?"

"Pretty much. I did some training, learned a lot about defense tactics, close protection, even advanced driving. It felt right, in a weird way. Like it was meant to be." She shrugs casually. "It’s not glamorous, but it’s honest work. And it pays well."

Layla smiled softly "It definitely sounds like a different world from what I’m used to."

Zara chuckling lightly "Yeah, it’s a little more intense than flower arranging, I imagine." Her tone playful.

"You’re not wrong there. But I’m actually kind of curious... does it ever get lonely, you know, always being the quiet one in the background?" Layla laughs.

Zara pauses for a moment, her expression thoughtful "Sometimes. It’s not that I mind it—I’m good at keeping to myself. But it’s...different, being there to protect someone without really getting to know them." She looks at Layla with a hint of honesty in her eyes. "I guess that’s why I don’t mind you asking about my past. I don’t usually talk about it much."

Layla smiling gently "Well, I’m glad you’re sharing it with me. I don’t want to just see you as the person who’s keeping me safe. I want to know the person behind the job, too."

Zara raising an eyebrow, a small smile forming "You sure you want to know all that? I’m not exactly the most interesting person."

"Yeah, I think everyone has a story worth hearing, even if it’s not as glamorous as some might think."

Zara laughing softly "Fair enough. Well, if you ever need a quiet companion or someone to keep the danger away, I’m your girl." She winks playfully, her usual stoic demeanor replaced by a brief moment of warmth.

Layla grins "I’ll keep that in mind."

"I take my job seriously. Keeping you safe is my number one priority, Layla."

"I know. And I appreciate it more than you know."

"Of course. That’s what I’m here for." Standing up, “I guess that's good night, Good night Layla”.

“Good night Zara”.

The atmosphere, though still tinged with the absence of Reed, felt significantly lighter.

After dinner, Layla retreated to her room, the lingering solitude of the evening urging her to delve deeper into the stack of documents on her desk. She settled into her chair, the soft glow of the desk lamp illuminating the pages before her.

As she immersed herself in the financial reports, the subtle discrepancies she had noticed earlier began to take on a more defined shape. The "phantom" vendor, Apex Solutions, appeared with increasing frequency, and the shifting budget allocations seemed to follow a pattern, albeit a subtle one.

She began to cross-reference the data, searching for connections, for a thread that would tie it all together. A name, Victor Martel, caught her attention, appearing in several vendor contracts, albeit indirectly, through a network of shell companies and subsidiaries.

Victor Martel, she thought, her brow furrowed.

She needed to tell Reed about the crucial information she had uncovered, but a wave of anxiety washed over her as she glanced at the clock. Why wasn't he back yet? The minutes felt like hours, and every second of his absence heightened her worry. Could something have happened to him?

A sudden, faint creak from the hallway startled her, pulling her from her thoughts. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Who is there, Zara?" she called out, her voice barely a whisper.

No response.

Layla stood up, listening for any sound of movement. The silence was palpable, heavy and oppressive, pressing down on her like a weight.

She took a cautious step towards the door, her hand outstretched, fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the cool metal of the doorknob. Another creak sounded, this time closer, echoing down the dark hallway with an unsettling resonance.

Layla's breath caught in her throat as a chill ran down her spine. Each heartbeat thundered in her ears, amplifying her anxiety as she moved silently towards the door, the floorboards underfoot betraying her with whispered groans. She reached for the handle, every muscle tensing, her fingers trembling uncontrollably.

Just as the door began to creak open, a figure stepped out of the shadows, their face obscured by the low light, only a pair of glinting eyes visible amidst the gloom.

“Hello, Layla,” the voice said.