Page 18 of August and the Night

18

August

I sit in my office, my frustration grows with each unsuccessful attempt to contact Layla. Her phone remains stubbornly turned off, leaving me feeling livid. How dare she put me in a position where I can't reach her when I need to? I can't help but seethe with anger.

I decide to call John to see what's going on. When he informs me about Layla's breakfast with her father and her decision to isolate herself in the lab, my anger intensifies. The thought of Arthur Lexington causing her distress fuels the rage inside me. Despite her being someone I am supposed to hate, I seethe at the idea of anyone hurting her.

The thought that she could block me out, even temporarily, grates on my nerves. She's mine, and I need to have constant access to her. Her actions, though justified in her mind, infuriate me, making me want to rush to her side and demand she follows my rules.

In this moment, I feel a mix of possessiveness and protectiveness towards her. The idea of not being able to reach her whenever I want ignites a fire within me. I need her to understand that I am in control and that she can't shut me out like this.

As I move through the company, my employees lower their gazes and cower slightly, recognizing my authority. Stacy, my secretary, tries to catch my attention as I pass by, subtly twirling her hair and biting her lip, but I pay her little mind, focused on my purpose.

Once outside, I stride purposefully to my car. The engine roars to life as I speed towards my destination, impatient to arrive.

I call her, my tone firm and demanding, as we discuss her coming to my house and John taking her back later. There is no room for negotiation; my orders are clear, and I expect them to be obeyed without question.

Arriving at my house, I enter with a forceful presence, the weight of my anger palpable in the air. The serene sound of the birds fails to calm my nerves as I await her arrival. I am seething with fury at the thought of anyone hurting her, especially her own father, and I am equally furious that she thinks she can just shut me out.

As half an hour passes, I hear a soft knock on the door, and my heart quickens with anticipation. I rush over to open it, and there she stands, looking tired and wary. I pull her inside the house, my anger still simmering beneath the surface.

"What's going on, August? Why are you so angry?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

My jaw clenches as I try to control my rage. "You turned off your phone, Layla. You left me with no way to reach you. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?" I growl, pinning her against the wall with an intense gaze.

Her eyes meet mine, and she tries to push back. "I had a bad morning. I needed some space, and I turned off my phone to focus on my work."

I shake my head, my voice low and demanding. "No excuses. You're with me now, and I need to have access to you at all times. You can't just shut me out whenever you feel like it."

She frowns, her resistance evident, but a single look from me and a low growl is enough to get her to relent reluctantly. "Fine, August. But this is not fair. You can't just dictate my every move."

"I can and I will," I reply firmly. "You belong to me, Layla, and I need to know where you are and how to reach you at all times. I won't tolerate being left in the dark like that again."

She sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Okay, fine. But you have to trust me too, August. You can't control everything."

My grip on her tightens, my voice stern. "Trust goes both ways, Layla. You have to trust me enough to know that I will help you feel better when you’re down, your burdens are mine."

She looks up at me, her expression softening slightly. "I do trust you, August. But you have to give me some space too."

I lean in, my face inches from hers, my voice a low whisper. "I'll give you space when I know you're safe and when you understand that you're mine, and you can't escape me."

She swallows hard, her resistance waning. "Fine, August. I understand. Just... be gentle with me, okay?"

I nod, my anger beginning to subside as concern for her takes over. "Always," I say, before pulling her into a tight embrace, holding her close.

She slumps in my embrace, sobbing, and I hold her tighter, gently caressing her hair to soothe her. "Shh, it's okay, Layla. You can tell me what happened," I say in a calming voice.

She takes a deep breath and begins to share everything her father said, about her weight, her hair, and how he made her feel small and inadequate. Her words break my heart, and I can feel my anger resurfacing, but I push it aside for now, focusing on comforting her.

"Listen to me, Layla," I say softly, lifting her chin to meet my gaze. "You are absolutely beautiful, inside and out. Your father doesn't see the amazing woman you are, but I do. You are gorgeous, intelligent, and kind, and nothing he says can change that."

I lean in and kiss her gently, because for reasons I do not understand, my heart is begging me to make her feel better and for once, I decide to listen to it. "You are perfect just the way you are, and I adore every part of you. Your hair, your body, everything about you is stunning. Don't ever let anyone make you doubt your worth, especially not your father."

She looks up at me with tearful eyes, her vulnerability touching my soul. "Thank you, August. It's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"I know, sweetheart," I say, brushing a thumb across her cheek. As I look at her delicate features, her small nose, big eyes, and pouty red lips; I cannot stop myself from leaning in and kissing her. She melts into my body with a sigh, granting my tongue access to her hot mouth. My tongue explores every crevice of her mouth as it mingles with her. She moans loudly but then the sound of her stomach growling disrupts our make out session.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, looking away. "I haven't eaten since breakfast."

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