Chapter 3: Beg, Layla

She turned and ran for the door, flinging it open. The guards outside blinked in surprise as she flew past them, breathless.

One of them recovered and rushed inside

"Mr. President!" he said, alarmed.

Corvin was standing, one hand clenched tightly at his side, breathing through the pain.

The guard hesitated, reaching for his communicator.

Corvin raised a hand "Let her be."

The guard froze.

"Sir?"

Corvin walked past him without another glance and sank into the navy armchair by the window.

He picked up a half filled glass of dark liquor from the side table

"Dismissed."

The guard lingered for a second before obeying. The door closed behind him.

Silence returned.

Corvin took a slow sip of the drink, his jaw tight but his mind wasn’t still.

He thought of her lips.

Her eyes, voice and Layla’s defiance

Corvin’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. Something darker.

He was going to make sure she comes back on her own, crawling and begging on her knees

*******

Layla burst into the maids' quarters and slammed her door shut behind her. She leaned against it, chest heaving, heart pounding like a war drum in her ears.

What have I done?

The image hit her again..her knee striking the President. Her hand flew to her head, fingers ravaging through her hair as if she could scratch the memory away. She started pacing, then stopped, biting the edge of her finger. An old, nervous habit she had never managed to break.

Then, slowly, she sank to the floor beside her bed.

He's not just powerful. He's a monster.

She didn't know the President was capable of... that. And she kicked him, attacked him. She had done the unthinkable..even if he deserved it.

To everyone else, she hadn't defended herself. She'd committed a crime.

A vivid, horrifying image flashed in her mind. Her back against a whipping post, lashes tearing her skin open while he watched with that smug, merciless smirk.

"Ahhh..!" she screamed, curling into herself, her face buried between her knees as the thought scorched her mind.

At 2:03 a.m

Knock knock.

Layla's eyes snapped open.

She looked around in confusion..her neck stiff, her legs numb. She had fallen asleep on the floor.

Again, the knock came harder this time.

"Layla, open up!"

Her heart jumped. That voice..Zaya.

She glanced at the clock on her vanity table. It's past two... What's happening? She stumbled up and opened the door.

Zaya stood there, wild eyed and panting.

"Your father," she blurted "Layla, it's your father”

Layla's blood turned to ice "What about him?"

Zaya swallowed hard "He's been taken. The palace guards..dragged him to the interrogation center. They said…"

"What?!" Layla shouted, her voice cracking. Panic slammed into her chest.

She didn't wait for more. She ran through the dim halls.

"Layla, wait!" Zaya called, racing after her.

They reached the interrogation block. Servants and staff crowded near the entrance, whispering urgently, heads turning as the girls pushed through.

Then she saw him.

Her father.

Chained to a chair at the center of the courtyard. Surrounded by guards. His shirt torn, face bruised, lip split open.

"Father.." she muttered.

She didn't care who was watching..she sprinted forward, falling to her knees in front of him, clutching his thigh.

"Father, what happened?" she choked out

His swollen eyes blinked slowly as he tried to speak.

Before he could answer, a voice sliced through the tension.

"Make way."

Captain Henrik Duvall, the head of palace security, stepped out from the stone interrogation building. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes and a colder reputation, he carried a leather bound file under one arm. The guards instantly straightened and bowed.

Henrik returned the gesture with a curt nod and flipped open the file.

His voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“Attention all palace staff. At approximately 00:15 this morning, during routine maintenance checks, a deliberate act of sabotage was discovered on the presidential motorcade. The brake system of the President's vehicle had been tampered with…an act that could have caused catastrophic failure and loss of life."

A shocked gasp rolled through the gathered crowd. Several staff members clutched their chests. Others shook their heads in disbelief.

Henrik continued, flipping to the next page without pause.

"Surveillance footage confirms Tomas Mires, the President's personal chauffeur, was seen near the vehicle at the time of tampering. Forensic teams have also found tool marks matching those found on equipment belonging to Mr. Mires"

Henrik glanced up, letting the silence settle for just a breath. Then his eyes locked onto Tomas.

"Tomas Mires is now in custody under suspicion of attempted assassination and endangering the life of the President. An investigation is underway. The government treats this act of treason with the utmost seriousness and will ensure justice is served."

He closed the file

Layla's grip on her father's leg tightened as her body shook with silent sobs. Her face was soaked with tears, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and rage.

This is wrong, this is all a lie. He didn't do this, he couldn't have.

Tomas felt the tremble of his daughter's hands and the weight of her tears falling on his leg.

"Layla..." he said weakly

She looked up at him. His lips parted to say something more but she cut him off gently.

"You don't have to explain, Father. I know. I know you're innocent"

Tomas's shoulders slumped, his body sagging in relief as his chin dropped to his chest.

And then…

"Take him inside" Henrik ordered.

Two guards stepped forward instantly.

As they reached for him, Layla threw herself over her father, arms locked tight around his torso.

"No-no, please, you can't take him!" she cried out. "He didn't do this! You know he didn't! He's innocent!" Her tears soaked into his torn shirt. They are going to torture him. He's too old to survive what's waiting behind that door.

She could feel her father's own tears on her shoulder. It felt like her heart cracked open.

"Miss, step back” one of the guards said again, more forcefully.

But Layla wouldn't move.

Then, suddenly..hands grabbed her from behind.

Her body was yanked backward with startling force.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, twisting violently.

Henrik's grip tightened. He said nothing as the guards seized her father and began dragging him across the courtyard.

"Father!" she cried, thrashing in Henrik's arms, watching helplessly as her father disappeared into the dark stone building.

Then Henrik leaned down. His lips brushed close to her ear "You are the only one who can save your father”

Layla's body froze.

She turned sharply to face him, her gaze filled with disbelief. Before she could respond, Zaya rushed forward like a storm, grabbing Henrik's wrist and shoving his hand off Layla.

"Let go of her!" Zaya snapped, her eyes blazing with fury.

Henrik met her glare with an amused smirk then, without a word, turned and disappeared into the building.

The moment he was gone, everything fell silent.

Except for Layla's heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She stood there, motionless. Henrik's words echoing in her skull like a mantra she needed to practice.

"Layla... are you okay?" Zaya asked gently, voice soaked with worry.

Layla blinked. Her throat felt tight as she turned to her friend. Her voice was shaky

"He's right"

Zaya’s brow furrowed "What do you mean?"

But Layla didn't answer.

She gently slipped from Zaya’s grasp and began walking away. Eyes followed her. Accusing, some whispering, some Judging.

But she didn't care.

*******

Layla reached the President's quarters. She stood at the massive double doors, her hands trembling. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

The guards looked at her. No questions and no hesitation.

They opened the doors silently.

Layla's hand gripped the hem of her dress. She bowed her head and stepped inside.

The door shut quietly behind her. Then she saw him.

Corvin Vellor.

Standing by the window.

Dressed in a white satin shirt and tailored trousers, his hands tucked into his pockets. The glow of the moon outlined the sharp angles of his face as he stared out over the darkened courtyard.

Layla didn't hesitate.

She dropped to her knees. Her forehead bowed to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Please... save my father, Mr. President”

A smirk curled on Corvin's lips before he finally turned to face her. He took two slow steps forward, the sound of his shoes echoing in the still room.

His voice was cool and mocking.

"Not even three hours... and already, you are back in my chambers”

Layla said nothing.

Corvin let the silence linger.

Then

"Beg, Layla"

Her chest ached as she fought the tears burning in her eyes.

"Please" she pleaded "I'm begging you, Mr. President. Save my father... he's innocent"

Corvin watched her with interest, savoring every word.

He was pleased "On your feet " he said

His words landed like a command. Layla rose immediately, though her eyes remained lowered.

"Closer."

She obeyed, stepping forward until only two inches separated them. Corvin closed the remaining space himself, his fingers lifting her chin.

Their eyes met.

"You know what I want," he said, his voice low "Give it to me... and all charges will disappear. Your father walks free and no criminal record”

Layla's fists clenched at her sides.

Her father's bruised face flashed in her mind. The tears he hadn't let her see. The strength he tried to wear like armor. The possibility that he could die in that cell if she refused.

This wasn't the time to protect her pride.

Not when someone she loved might pay the price.

Her gaze finally lifted to meet his.

A quiet, bitter strength flickered in her eyes.

"Yes, Mr. President” she said, voice steady now "I'm ready... to give myself to you"