Fall for My Face? Or My Soul?

Chapter 4 Who Are You?

Layla's POV:

When our eyes locked, I felt like the world went silent, and all I could hear was the frantic pounding of my own heart.

I regretted it instantly, my curiosity about my own grave, the desire to see it for myself.

Now, Orlando was more dangerous to me than even Amanda. He was the last person I should have met with.

I trusted my acting skills, but I wasn't sure I could fool Orlando, not when I knew what he was capable of.

Yet, I had to admit, my first impression of him was... surprising.

That day, he wore a simple but impeccable suit that made his tall, lean frame even more striking.

His strong jawline, the high bridge of his nose, and those piercing eyes reminded me of a god from ancient mythology.

I was shocked. This ruthless, violent man they spoke of looked... far too handsome for that.

I'd met handsome actors and even had my idols, but none had the kind of presence Orlando did. It was like they all faded into the background.

For a moment, I had a ridiculous thought. If he had chosen acting, he'd have been as famous as any star today.

But then I quickly dismissed it.

His aloofness, his icy detachment, made him impossible to approach.

I had a plan, a dozen excuses ready to throw at him. But facing him, I knew there was no room for deception.

So, I told him the truth.

I expected him to be angry, to break off our engagement in a fit of rage, maybe even use Donald to get rid of me.

Instead, he simply told me he only needed a wife, someone to keep up appearances.

The rumors about Orlando, the ones that painted him as a monster, someone who had driven his father insane, pushed his mother to suicide and ruthlessly dealt with anyone who opposed him in his family, those stories had a chilling truth.

A man like that, with his wealth and power, would never be able to find a noble family willing to marry off their daughter to him.

That was probably why he needed someone like me, someone to salvage his reputation.

Donald saw that, too, which was why he tried to sell me to the Field family.

I never expected that we'd end up negotiating. Yet, there we were.

Somehow, we reached an agreement.

I could be his wife, but in return, he had to guarantee my mother's medical bills.

I felt an overwhelming relief. I was finally free from Donald's grip, though I barely had time to wonder if I was walking straight into another cage.

What should have been a sacred marriage certificate became nothing more than a contract between us.

It struck me then. If I were to break this contract, Orlando would still be my legal husband.

When I snapped back to reality, I found Orlando standing right in front of me.

His tall figure loomed over me, casting a shadow so deep it swallowed me whole. His dark, intense eyes seemed to pierce right through me.

"Sorry, Mr. Field. I didn't mean to disturb you," I stammered, trying to escape his gaze.

But before I could move, he grabbed my wrist.

I was stunned. My body lost its balance, and I fell straight into his arms.

In an instant, his other hand darted behind me, grabbing something, a small snake, which he quickly tossed into the nearby bushes.

I froze, watching it slither away, a wave of horror sweeping through me.

I was so terrified of snakes!

When I was a child, whenever Donald was in a bad mood, he'd lock me in the storage room.

It was always filled with insects, sometimes even snakes, and I'd press myself against the wall, trembling in fear, crying and begging him to let me out.

Even as I grew older, I still had nightmares about it. I dreamed that I was trapped in that room again.

But just now, I'd been so panicked that I hadn't noticed there was a snake on me.

'So... did Orlando save me?'

A wave of fear washed over me. I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself, but then I realized that he was still holding me.

"Sir... please... let go of me," I gasped, struggling in his grip.

I twisted and turned, but it was useless.

His arms were like steel, unyielding. I could feel the strength of his chest even through his clothes.

If only his grip were a little gentler, the way we were standing might've looked beautiful, a moment of tenderness between two people.

But that wasn't the reality. Right now, his hold felt suffocating.

"Who are you, and why do you know me?"

His deep voice rumbled above me, sending a shock of tension through my body.

I froze, feeling the sting of my own stupidity. 'How could I have been so careless?'

Orlando was a private man. He rarely appeared in public, and few people knew him.

But there I was, calling him Mr. Field like it was nothing. 'How stupid of me!'

His arm tightened around my neck, and I could feel the pressure building. One wrong move and I felt like he could snap my throat with ease.

The oppressive weight of his presence triggered a primal panic within me.

I forced myself to sound calm, though my heart was racing. "I'm Emilia, the new maid at Mr. Glen's house."

I saw him stiffen slightly as if he was disappointed by my answer.

"I've seen pictures of you and Ms. Glen while I was cleaning," I added, trying to justify myself, but I wasn't sure if it would make any difference.

Finally, Orlando loosened his grip, and I took a hurried step back. But even from a distance, I could feel his eyes boring into me, scrutinizing every detail.

Would he believe my half-baked explanation?

End of Layla's POV

Orlando was surprised by the woman's answer. He hadn't expected her to be from the Glen Villa.

His mind flashed to Donald and Layla, and it stirred a sense of disdain within him. There was something about the surname Glen that seemed to taint this pure "ghost" in front of him.

But then again, there was something about Emilia that felt like more than just a maid. It was as if she were challenging him without even meaning to.

She seemed delicate and fragile, but her eyes, those eyes, betrayed a quiet defiance that was impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, Orlando felt dizzy. A sharp, pulsing pain shot through his hand, making him wince.

He slowly lifted his arm to find two tiny bite marks on his finger, and blood was already beginning to trickle from the wounds.

'Damn it. It was the snake!'

Everything around him started to blur, and he took a step forward, but his legs betrayed him. He stumbled, his body falling against her shoulder, the weight of his collapse pulling them both down.

He heard her voice, panicked and urgent. She was calling his name, but he couldn't find the strength to respond.

His eyelids grew heavy, and his body grew weaker by the second until everything went black.