Chapter Twelve: Help Me

Ashton couldn't care less, acting like he was in his own world.

He then grabbed Layla around the waist, looking all smug as he attempted to plant a kiss on her. Layla dodged his advances, discreetly squeezing his hand that held her waist and gritting her teeth while pressing her heel against his foot.

Meanwhile, Doris, completely missing the tension between them, saw them being lovey-dovey as usual.

Ashton picked up his phone to show he meant business and instructed, "Get Poppy off the shooting site. My wife isn't happy about it, and I don't want her around anymore."

Layla couldn't help but roll her eyes, marveling once again at his incredible acting skills. It was hard to believe that the same man who had thrown divorce papers at her just recently and kicked her out of the house with another woman now appeared so affectionate.

Meanwhile, Doris nodded her head in approval, her gaze fixated on Ashton with even more admiration. "I'm glad you're in love. What matters most now for you is having a child soon. It will solidify both your relationship and Layla's standing in the company."

Ashton flashed a smile at Layla, saying, "Okay, we'll try our best. Don't worry, Grandma, we won't let you down."

After reassuring Doris, the two spent some time in the hospital room before leaving.

Once outside, Ashton made another attempt to hold Layla's hand, but she quickly evaded it. Removing her ring, she tossed it into his arms, saying firmly, "Thanks for playing along today. But you can keep this ring for your future wife. I have no use for it."

"Layla, have you had enough of the whole drama? If you're trying to control me, you don't need to resort to such extreme measures. Just humbling yourself and admitting defeat would have avoided all this."

Layla shook her head in disbelief, realizing Ashton was still oblivious to his faults and believed she would always return to him without question.

"I'm not trying to control anyone. Since we're divorced, we should keep our distance from each other."

Ashton's nonchalant demeanor turned sharp, and he forcibly grabbed Layla's arm, pinning her against the wall. "What do you mean by that? Have you already found yourself a new man?"

"Let go. It's none of your business!"

Layla pushed Ashton away, turned on her heels, and walked away without glancing back.

Ashton's expression darkened when he saw her left. Without delay, he instructed his secretary to look into any recent interactions Layla had with other men.

Even after their divorce, he still acted possessed towards her, like she was his possession.

...

Leaving the hospital, Layla rubbed her sore wrist, which got hurt from Ashton's tight grip. She was just about to call her secretary for a ride when she noticed the world outside blanketed in silver.

That's when she realized it was snowing.

Lost in the beauty of the snow, Layla didn't watch where she was walking and slipped on the icy ground. As she braced herself for the impact, a hand caught her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

The subtle scent of cedar wood filled the air, sending Layla's thoughts into disarray. She gazed absently at him as the fragrance triggered a sense of familiarity.

"Are you alright?" Tristan helped her up, his voice filled with concern.

Lost in her thoughts, Layla quickly moved away from his embrace, creating some distance, and offered a slightly forced smile. "I'm fine. Thank you, Mr. Frucht."

Amid the harsh weather and her flustered state, Layla slipped once more as she tried to move forward. Tristan caught her arm and, with a resigned tone, said, "Let me give you a ride home."

Layla initially declined hastily, but then she overheard nearby onlookers mentioning Tristan's name. Clearly, they had recognized him.

With his handsome face often seen in financial reports and gossip columns due to his influence and his standout appearance, it was no surprise that people would pick him out of the crowd.

With a friendly smile, Tristan gestured, "Miss Hammond, could you please do me a favor and go along with this? We can avoid ending up as tomorrow's headlines in the tabloids that way."

Spotting someone already reaching for their phone to snap a picture, Layla reluctantly agreed. She had no choice but to settle into the backseat of Tristan's car.

Tristan had arrived in a business vehicle that didn't offer much room. Being tall with long legs, he naturally occupied a significant part of the space upon entering. As one of his legs brushed against hers by accident, the cool touch of his skin sent a shiver down her spine yet also spread a warm sensation throughout her body. Inappropriately, a few spicy images flickered in Layla's mind.

There was something oddly familiar about Tristan to Layla.

Even his scent evoked a sense of déjà vu as if she had smelled it before.

Tristan, the CEO of the Frucht Group, always had a jam-packed schedule. She was a bit concerned about how awkward it might be to be in a car with him, especially considering that he was friends with her ex-husband. But she felt relieved when he immediately pulled out his iPad and got to work as soon as he sat in the car.

The gentle afternoon sunlight poured in through the window, creating a golden glow around him that enhanced the sharp angles of his handsome face, giving it a more regal and distinguished appearance. His poised demeanor and elegant gestures exuded an aura of innate superiority. His refined features and graceful movements hint at a life of luxury and privilege. As he casually interacted with the iPad, Layla felt an unexpected sensation as if his hands were exploring and touching her body.

"Do you like what you see?"