Chapter 197

Layla had witnessed her fair share of shameless lies, but this was a new low. With narrowed eyes and a voice sharp with indignation, she declared, "Mr. Smith, stop spreading falsehoods about me!"

"I had intended to spare you some dignity, but you've overstepped. That night, it was you who insisted on entering my room and suggested a quid pro quo, which I rejected. If you don't believe me, check the security footage. You were in my room for less than ten minutes before I kicked you out."

Feigning innocence, Mr. Smith retorted, "Why would you accuse me of such a thing?"

"Every word I've said is the truth. I swear it. Can you do the same?" Layla challenged him.

"Why would I need to swear? If anything, I've been the one preserving your reputation. From the first day at the company, you've been sending me suggestive texts non-stop, inviting me to your room that night. I told you I had a family and asked you to stop. I rejected you, not the other way around."

"You're spreading rumors," Layla countered.

"But I have evidence," Mr. Smith said as he fumbled with his phone. "Look, here are the screenshots. She was the one coming onto me; you can see my responses were all rejections." He handed the phone to his wife with trembling hands.

Arabella scanned the screen furiously, her eyes nearly bulging with rage. She thrust the phone toward Layla. "At just twenty, behaving so provocatively, it's disgraceful."

Gioanna and Jane leaned in eagerly to look at the phone. "Yeah, that's Layla's profile picture on Messenger," Jane confirmed.

Gioanna read the messages aloud, her voice deliberately loud and clear. "'Mr. Smith, I miss you so much. I'll be waiting for you in my room tonight.' 'Mr. Smith, you are the most charming man I've ever met.' 'It doesn't matter that you have a wife and kids, I still like you just the same.' 'I'll be counting on you for the job, Mr. Smith.'"

...

Layla shook her head, a cold laugh escaping her lips, "Since when can chat records serve as evidence? I never added him. I could fabricate a hundred of these fake messages."

"Despite the evidence glaring at you, you remain unflustered," Arabella retorted sharply. "Layla, your nerves are as hard as steel. This wouldn't be your first stint as the other woman, would it?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

"On a single night, two men's doors were knocked upon-a clear sign of a repeat offender."

She paused, allowing her words to sink in.

"Isn't it reminiscent of the debacle with Mr. Marley from the Holland Group? No sooner had he left than you moved onto the next man. You've got some nerve, as if every ounce of shame has been squeezed out of you!"

"Gioanna, enough. This is none of your concern; stop reveling in it," Layla interjected.

"You..."

"These messages aren't mine. If you don't believe me, involve the police. I need to clear my name," Layla declared, her voice unwavering.

Arabella scoffed, "Involve the police? I'm not intimidated by you." She reached for her phone.

"Darling, let's not escalate this," Mr. Smith intervened anxiously, "It's not beneficial to the project. I have to work at this company for the rest of my life. What will people think?"

"Why should you be frightened? She's the one who seduced you," Arabella shot back, her gaze piercing. "Are you defending this little seductress?"

"Certainly not, I just don't want to exacerbate the situation-it's inconvenient."

"Is it about avoiding a scene, or are you afraid?" Layla retorted. "Feeling guilty?"

"I'm warning you, this little temptress..."

"What's happening here?" Susan inquired as she approached.

Once Susan was apprised of the situation, she reassured, "Mrs. Smith, as a representative of the Holland Group, I assure you I will conduct a thorough investigation and provide a comprehensive explanation."

"I don't need your explanations. You're with the Holland Group, you'll side with her. I demand her termination immediately!" Arabella was creating a spectacle.

"Layla is our chief designer; I don't possess the authority to dismiss her."

"Who else has a say in this? Do you think I'm afraid to stir up trouble at your office? I'm in the right here, and I'm not afraid to make a scene," Arabella ranted, her voice sharp and haughty, ready to fight to the bitter end.

"Honey..." her husband began.

"I'll provide a satisfactory resolution within three days," Susan replied, maintaining her composure. "If Layla is at fault, I won't shield her."

"Why should I wait three days? I want a resolution now."

"We can't confirm at this moment that Layla is the problem, and I won't tolerate any disruption to our work. If you persist, I'll have no choice but to call security to escort you out."

"What kind of attitude is that? My husband is the general manager, and this is the Eilish Group. Do you think you can throw me out? Are you conspiring with that little temptress?" Arabella looked ready to lash out at Susan, but Susan remained composed, not even flinching, her gaze coolly shifting towards Mr. Smith.

"I... I'll take her away right now... Honey, stop causing a scene. It's embarrassing," Mr. Smith said as he led his wife away.

Nevertheless, Arabella's vitriolic words continued to reverberate down the hallway.

"Susan, your defense of Layla is quite conspicuous," Gioanna remarked disapprovingly. "We can't let one rotten apple spoil the entire barrel! If Arabella returns to cause a commotion, how are we supposed to work?"

"You're correct. And given that woman's tendencies, this won't be the last time. If people continue to disrupt our work, our team will lose face. They might even think we're siding with her, and I can't afford to tarnish our reputation."

"What about her being the chief designer? Just discuss it with the higher-ups at our company, and I'm sure they'll support you."

"Yes, Susan, you can't disregard our sentiments, can you?"

The chilly remarks continued to swirl around her, with Gioanna at the forefront.

However, Susan remained unmoved, her expression stern. "Didn't you hear what I just said? I've committed to investigating within three days and will clarify the situation. Until then, focus on your work. Remember, you're designers, not gossipmongers."

"Gioanna..." She began, attempting to counter, but the towering stature and inherent authority that Susan exuded made her stumble. It was only after Susan summoned Layla into her office that Gioanna allowed a frosty sneer to escape her lips.

"Why is Susan so protective of her? Could she also be..." Gioanna mused, her thoughts trailing off into speculation.

"It's difficult to determine," she murmured, "Often, the more virtuous a woman appears, the more elusive her true nature becomes."

Jane nudged Gioanna gently with her shoulder, her voice a hushed whisper, "Excellent work with those photographs. Without them, we would never have been able to reveal Layla's true colors. It was truly gratifying."

"Hmm, indeed," Gioanna responded, her voice laced with a triumphant smugness, "She pushed me into the wishing well; did she think I would let that pass so easily? I didn't spend the entire night crouched down for nothing, I finally caught her in the act."

...

Inside the office...

"Susan, I assure you, there is nothing happening between Mr. Smith, Phillip, and myself," Layla implored.

Susan raised her hand in a halting gesture, "Whether I believe you or not is irrelevant to the situation. I wasn't defending you earlier; I was safeguarding our team's reputation.

"I've seen your designs, you have talent. However, if the decision were mine, I would dismiss you immediately," Susan declared, her face devoid of emotion, her tone strictly professional, "I require someone who is fully dedicated to the projects and can maintain team unity, not an employee who is consistently causing disturbances."

Layla lowered her gaze, "I apologize."

"I don't have the luxury of time to investigate this. If you wish to clear your name, you have three days. But even then, your continued employment may not depend on the outcome; the decision rests with the Eilish Group. If they perceive you as a liability to the project, your innocence will be inconsequential."

"I understand."

The result was not of importance; the impact on the company was what truly mattered, a fact Layla was acutely aware of.

"Just await word from the Eilish Group. Concentrate on your work, don't overthink the situation."

"Understood."

...

At the hospital...

"I understand, brother, I'll take it easy," Nora Eilish retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm as she ended the call, before promptly dialing another number.

"How are things progressing?" Her voice was icy, a stark contrast to the sweet girl she had been just moments before.

"My wife just caused a commotion, and Layla wants to involve the police, to uncover the truth. What if she actually finds evidence proving the evidence was falsified? My father-in-law will have my head. You know he's a loan shark with a bunch of thugs on his payroll..."

Nora Eilish thought to herself, he's merely a pawn; his demise would be inconsequential. Interrupting him, she said, "So you'd prefer incarceration?"

"Ms. Eilish, I..."

"If the investigation uncovers anything, you will assume full responsibility, attributing it all to personal indiscretions. Otherwise, considering the amount you've embezzled, don't expect to leave prison alive."

"...Yes, Ms. Eilish."

Nora Eilish swiftly dialed another number, her eyes narrowing, "You understand what you need to say later, correct?"