Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Lucky Ones

Even though Layla had vowed not to get tangled up with Ashton again, she still found Tristan's tactics annoying.

Layla clenched her teeth and muttered, "That's enough, Tristan. You're pushing it too far."

Tristan didn't seem phased by her response and was almost sure of her rejection.

Tristan shrugged nonchalantly and started to walk away. "Well, then you can leave my house wearing this shirt."

With a steely gaze, Layla watched Tristan walk away, secretly hoping her stare could shoot laser beams. She couldn't just walk out of his house in his shirt - that would only lead to more speculation at the press conference, not clarity.

Seizing Tristan's coat, Layla closed her eyes and, with a resolute tone, conceded, "Fine, I'll go along with it. Happy now?"

Tristan smirked triumphantly, even though she couldn't see it from his back.

"Perfect. I'll give you a ride," he suggested, almost instinctively leaning in for a kiss.

Avoiding his advances, Layla turned her head. "I don't think that's a good idea. Our situation is complicated, and I don't want people to jump to conclusions."

Tristan laughed softly. He never intended to take her to the press conference in the first place. He just relished in watching her conform to his plans, as no one had ever favored him in such a way before. "Relax, that was just a joke. Come on, let's grab breakfast. Your clothes will be here soon."

Shortly after breakfast, the styling team Tristan had invited arrived.

They wheeled in a selection of the trendiest high fashion pieces of the season for Layla, complete with a dazzling array of jewelry and glamorous high heels. It felt as if she had front-row seats at a fashion show.

Meanwhile, Tristan sat on the living room sofa, glancing over the financial newspaper. Upon noticing her stunned expression, he smiled gently and explained, "I don't know your style preferences, so I had them bring all the latest designs."

A team member, looking slightly envious, added, "These are the hottest styles from top brands this season, Miss Hammond. Do you see anything you like? We're here to assist with suggestions."

Politely dismissing them, Layla approached the clothing rack, carefully deliberating over each item.

It struck her as ironic that despite being married to Ashton for three years, she had never experienced such lavish treatment before.

While Ashton's family may not have been as wealthy as Tristan's, they still ranked among the affluent in town. Ashton would splurge on gifts like bags and diamonds for his mistresses, yet he would pinch pennies when it came to his wife. He'd even gone as far as calculating how much her family benefited from him to belittle her.

As Layla averted her gaze to the ground to conceal the darkness in her eyes, her fingers hung limply at her side.

Sensing a shift in Layla's mood, Tristan set aside the newspaper, approached her from behind, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "What's on your mind? Don't you like them?"

Layla shook her head, a bittersweet smile crossing her lips.

"Just reminiscing about some unpleasant memories," she admitted vaguely, leaving Tristan to piece together the context.

After holding Layla's gaze for a moment, Tristan playfully twirled her around, his eyes twinkling mischievously in response to her puzzled expression.

"What are you doing?" She asked, feeling his expression was loaded with meaning.

She realized he probably had another evil idea.

Tristan chuckled softly, "I just feel incredibly lucky."

"Lucky?" Layla was puzzled. The only thing she felt lucky about now was her divorce from Ashton, which freed her from him for good.

That bleak three-year marriage had sucked the hope out of Layla when it came to love.

Glancing at the wall clock showing eight o'clock, Layla distanced herself from Tristan, turned around, and went back to choosing clothes, "How about this one?" She asked, holding up a dark green silk dress

The dress featured a sophisticated design that accentuated Layla's figure with elegance and a hint of allure. The lace detailing around the neckline added a playful touch, complementing her flawless skin. The color also suited her perfectly.

Tristan grinned as Layla changed into the stunning dress, looking even more lovely than he had anticipated.

She could bring out the elegance in such a simple yet unique dress.

He walked over, selected a pair of heels, and knelt down in front of her, his eyes gleaming with tenderness as he raised her foot and asked, "May I, My princess?"

As Layla locked eyes with Tristan's intense gaze, she saw her reflection in his dark eyes. It felt surreal to her that Tristan was now kneeling before her, picking out the perfect shoes and even making an effort to put them on for her.

Nervously clutching her skirt, Layla hesitated before finally speaking up, "Thanks, but I can put them on by myself."

Tristan stopped Layla as she moved to sit on the sofa.

With a graceful touch, he lifted her right foot and effortlessly slid on the shoes, fitting like they were made just for her.

The black suede heels complemented Layla's fair skin beautifully, and Tristan looked at her with a blend of fondness and admiration. Then, in a spontaneous act, he lifted one of her feet and placed a tender kiss upon it.

Instinctively, Layla felt the urge to retract her leg. Yet, wary of accidentally kicking him, she remained still. Struggling to compose herself, she asked, "What exactly are you doing, Tristan?"