Layla's perfectly manicured fingers tremble as she stares down at the shattered remains of her phone.
The screen is cracked, the glass fragments glittering on the pristine marble floor like a thousand tiny shards of ice.
She had hurled the device to the ground in a fit of panic and rage, the news Charlotte had shared with her still reverberating in her mind.
Zaria, her precious daughter, was mortally injured.
Worse, she knows that Malik is furious.
Layla feels her teeth chatter, a cold fear gripping her heart. Malik was going to kill her.
Without a moment's hesitation, Layla turns on her heel and rushes towards the door, her designer heels clicking frantically against the polished tiles.
She has to get away, to put as much distance between herself and Malik as possible.
Layla flings open the door, her frantic steps carrying her through the lavish halls of their mansion.
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