Chapter 58 Unbearable
Elena's POV
I sat on the edge of my bed and opened my laptop only to see my inbox was flooded with dozens of emails, attachments, videos, scanned documents and screenshots from Layla.
My heart skipped. “What are you doing, Layla…” I whispered to myself.
But I knew I was about to uncover Jack's secrets.
So I clicked the first email and then a separate folder she had encrypted — the same label as the physical file she’d given me before my trip to Lisbon.
I reached for the files on my desk that had been sitting there untouched since I came back.
There were photos of the meetings that were never listed on the corporate calendar, financial records and stuff.
“This can’t be real,” I murmured.
When I was about to open the folder tagged in Jack's name, my phone buzzed sharply against the desk.
The sound of it startled me.
It was my assistant.
Why is she calling this late?
I wiped at my eyes quickly and answered.
“Maya?” I said, trying to steady my voice. “What is it?”
All I heard at first was shaky and uneven breathing.
“Maya?” I repeated, my heart starting to pound.
“Ms. Elena…” she choked out.
My stomach dropped instantly. “What happened?” I stood up without realizing it. “Maya, talk to me.”
She was crying and that suddenly made my body go cold.
“They found her,” Maya managed between breaths.
“Found who?” I asked.
“Layla.”
“What do you mean found?” I whisper-yelled.
“She—” Maya’s voice broke completely. “She was found unconscious in her apartment this evening.”
My hand tightened around the phone as I tried to blink back something. “Is she in the hospital? Which hospital? I’ll go—”
“She’s gone, Ms. Elena.”
The words didn’t quite register. “What?”
“Layla’s dead.”
My breath hitched and still, my brain refused to process it. “What did you say?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“She was found unresponsive. The police— they said—” Maya started sobbing again.
“No.” I shook my head instinctively. “No, that’s not possible.”
My legs gave out and I sank back onto the bed. “That’s not possible,” I repeated.
“She passed away earlier tonight,” Maya cried. “They don’t know what happened yet.”
My chest felt like it was collapsing inward.
“How?” I demanded. “What happened to her? Was she sick? Was there an accident? Did someone—”
“I don’t know!” Maya wailed. “The police aren’t saying anything. I think it's all over the internal security channel.”
My ears started ringing.
Layla's dead?
But how?
The same Layla who had urgently sent me files.
“No,” I breathed, shaking my head violently. “No, no, no.”
“Ms. Elena…” Maya’s voice softened, though she was still crying. “I’m so sorry.”
Then I couldn’t feel my hands anymore.
“I need details,” I said, my voice suddenly sharp, almost frantic. “Was there a break-in? Any sign of forced entry?”
“They didn’t say.”
“Did they rule anything out?” I couldn't even hear myself.
“They’re investigating,” she replied weakly. “That’s all they said.”
My gaze drifted slowly to the laptop screen still glowing in front of me.
Layla’s emails, the attachments, the files exposing irregular transfers, my father’s name, Damien and now Jack Roman added to the list.
Did she sacrifice herself in an attempt to expose Jack?
My breath hitched—I haven't even gone through those files yet.
I ended the call before I would unravel completely. My chest heaved as the first sob ripped out of me.
I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle it, but it didn’t help. The tears came fast and uncontrollable, and blurred everything in front of me.
Layla is dead.
The words looped over and over in my head before I slid off the bed onto the floor, my back against the mattress.
How can she be gone? And just like that?
Before I knew it, my body started shaking violently.
“What happened to you?” I cried into the empty room. “What did they do to you?”
The thought made bile rise in my throat. Did they silence her because of those files?
Because of me?
I wiped my tears instantly as I crawled back toward the desk and stared at the screen through tear-filled eyes at her last email timestamp.
It was just a couple hours ago.
My fingers hovered over the attachments.
If she died because of what she sent me—
then the fog was becoming thicker.
A fresh wave of sobs hit me, harder this time. I clutched the folder against my chest like it could anchor me.
“She can’t just be gone,” I whispered brokenly. “She can’t.”
But she was.
I shook my head in denial, why does it have to be her?
"Nooooo..." I clutched my chest.
Soon, I got an Intel that Layla's body was missing.
A week passed, and her body was still missing.
When the detective called to “update” me, I desperately thought that they had answers.
Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Ms. Vale… Layla's body still hasn't been found.”
I hung up before he could offer any empty reassurances.
And since then, I’ve been… drifting. I move through the penthouse like a ghost haunting my own life.
I wake up because my body forces me to, I sit at the kitchen island with coffee that goes cold before I take two sips. I now stare at walls and at nothing.
I haven’t even spoken to Jack since that night we got back from Lisbon. I didn't even give him the opportunity to speak to me because I was afraid of going nuts.
Now everything felt contaminated—The files Layla sent me were still sitting in my inbox unaccessed.
Although, I tried to go through it two days ago but shut my laptop immediately.
If Layla died because of what she found…
Then opening those files meant stepping directly into whatever killed her.
I didn’t even go to the office and my position as CEO remained unquestioned even though it now hung in the balance. For once, I didn't care if it did because Layla mattered to me more than I cared to admit.
I press my forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the empty room.
I heard Jack’s footsteps pause outside my door.
I craved his presence like oxygen but I couldn't let my desires blind me further.
Then I slide down the bedroom wall until I was sitting on the floor again, hugging my knees to my chest.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered to myself.