Chapter 16 Left alone

Elena’s POV

The bright rays of the sun slipped through the curtains and stabbed me right in the eyes.

I groaned.

There went my sleep.

After the rollercoaster of a night I had with Noah yesterday, I ended up crashing on Layla’s couch. I didn’t want to wake up; not yet. Maybe because the dream I was having was just that good.

In it, I was back at the movie theater with Noah. The way his eyes lingered on me… it felt so right. We were leaning closer to each other, slowly, breathlessly...

And then boom. That annoying manager popped up out of nowhere like a jump scare and ruined the moment. A blinding light followed, and just like that, I woke up… still on Layla’s couch.

I blew a strand of hair away from my face with an irritated huff and sat up, stretching out my stiff limbs.

“I should’ve known even my dreams couldn’t give me a win.”

That stupid manager’s face was already etched into my memory. But seriously...how did Noah not see him lurking there like a creep? Or… did he? Did he let it happen on purpose?

I shook my head and stood, brushing the thought away. Yesterday was done.

Today was a new day. A new chance to grab Noah’s attention.

I didn’t have a clear plan yet, not exactly...but one thing was crystal clear: I had to figure out who Layla Campbell really was. Fast.

Maybe...just maybe...the girl didn’t want to marry Noah. That would explain why she hadn’t reached out to her parents at all. I mean, who hears they’re marrying a man like Noah Reynolds and just… ghosts the whole situation?

Even if she had beef with her parents, you'd think she’d show up at least once.

Part of me wanted to celebrate her absence. But deep down, I knew it was temporary.

It felt like one of those dramatic idioms was creeping into my life; the calm before the storm.

Yesterday was calm. Today? Maybe. Tomorrow? Probably the storm.

With another sigh, I started climbing the stairs.

“Layla?” I called out, heading toward her room. “You could’ve woken me up; or at least made breakfast. I’m starving over here!”

“Layla, where the hell are you?!” I shouted again, turning the knob and walking in.

Her room was massive. Pink wallpaper, a huge flatscreen mounted on the wall, a queen-sized bed dead center, and a bunch of other… interesting things.

And yes...there was a life-sized pony in the corner.

I nearly choked on a laugh. Yep. Definitely her father’s way of trying to buy her affection.

I stepped further into the room, looking around until my eyes landed on a white envelope sitting on the dresser.

I hesitated. A dozen thoughts stormed my brain.

What if Layla had been kidnapped? What if this was a ransom note? Or worse… what if she’d disappeared without a trace?

What if this was a suicide note?

Ugh. Stop it, Elena.

There was only one way to find out.

I grabbed the envelope and tore it open.

“To Elena,” it read at the top.

My eyes scanned the paper quickly.

'I know I should’ve called or texted...or at least waited until you were awake. But my flight leaves at 7, and it’s almost a five-hour ride back home. If I waited, I’d miss it.'

I exhaled, tension leaving my body.

She wasn’t dead.

Not kidnapped. Not murdered. Not missing.

She just… left.

I pulled the letter out fully and kept reading.

'I’m taking your advice. I’m going back to my dad. Yeah, I know he’s a jerk, and I know he mainly wants me back because of some big deal he made with one of the richest men in the country, but… maybe I want the same thing too.'

My eyebrows shot up.

She wants to be an arranged bride?

Layla had changed.

'I’m leaving the house to you, but don’t bring your new target inside.'

As if I would. I rolled my eyes before looking back at the letter again.

'My dad says the guy’s really handsome. So maybe after I win him over, I’ll bring you along. Maybe he has rich friends you haven’t conned yet. Maybe..."

A laugh escaped me. Yeah… maybe.

'P.S. I wrote a letter because I wanted it to be emotional and dramatic; and also because if you find it before 9 a.m., you’ll probably be starving.'

I was. Damn her for knowing me so well, while I was still piecing her together.

But it was nice… in a bittersweet way.

At least she was going back to her family. Even if they only wanted her for selfish reasons.

And hey...she was about to marry a hot, rich guy. And not even for a con.

They were going to live together. Make babies. Maybe even fall in love.

“I hope it works out for you, Layla,” I whispered, stepping out of the room.

Now… time to solve the crisis in my stomach.

...

Three Days Later

Three days flew by.

No calls, No texts, no messages from Noah.

Nothing.

What the hell?

Had he figured it all out already? Or… had the real Layla finally shown up?

I know I could have just called him myself. I had his number and everything, but I didn't. Deep down, I still preferred how it was before, not that equality bullshit.

I wanted to see his call. I wanted to feel butterflies in my stomach. But I guess that isn't working.

These last few days, I tried everything to dig up more about her; but found close to nothing.

The only clear thing? She didn’t want to be found.

Apparently, she cut ties with her family years ago. They’d removed her from everything; documents, photos, online records.

There was only one picture of her anywhere on the internet... And she looked about six.

In it, she sat on a couch between her parents; her mother was stunning and elegant. Her father was stern but composed. All of them smiling like they hadn’t ruined each other’s lives yet.

She was an only child.

A mystery.

One I was now pretending to be.

And time was ticking.

I had less than a few days before everything would blow up in my face. Before that could happen, I needed to secure a crazy amount from Noah.

That Layla was an only child.

Which meant there was no one else. No long-lost twin, no cousins doubling as stand-ins.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

Three fucking days.

The last time I saw Noah he promised to call...only maybe he didn't promise. But I thought he was going to call, I really did.

My stomach grumbles snapping me out of my thoughts.

Aish!

Over the past few days, Layla had been gone; I had barely cooked anything for myself and had been surviving on things in the fridge... but now even that was giving me a cold shoulder.

I shook my head, grabbing the nearest hoodie which was just on the coach.

Overthinking was a full-time job, but right now, my stomach and the fridge were empty... Literally. It was mostly empty except for a bottle of expired milk, half a lemon, and a leftover chicken nugget I couldn’t bring myself to eat.

It was time to face reality; and by reality, I meant the grocery store.

Pulling my hair into a quick ponytail, I grabbed my phone and wallet, slipping on a pair of worn-out sneakers before heading out the door. Layla's house was huge, but it wasn't normally quiet. She had noisy neighbors that always walked around trying to figure out what was going on here...not like they didn't have a mansion of their own. But today, it was silent...the kind of silence that seems to tell you something bad is about to happen.

I was halfway down the steps, mentally planning a list; eggs, bread, cereal, and definitely something chocolate...when my phone rang.

I froze. My heart racing.

That ringtone. My ringtone for him.

He finally called.

Slowly, I pulled the phone from my pocket.

Mr. Mysterious.

I changed the name to this because I felt I still didn't know him well enough.

My stomach did a dramatic somersault.

The wind suddenly felt colder. My grip on the phone tightened.

He was really calling!

My thumb hovered over the green button.

“Okay, Elena,” I whispered to myself. “Act natural. Like you weren’t just about to buy a gallon of ice cream and cry into it.”

It was not like I was going to anyway.

I took a deep breath.

And answered.

"Hello?"

His cool, deep voice sounded in my ears almost immediately, and my breath hitched. "Hey, you."