Unexpected Marriage With Mr. Leighton: Rebirth of the Villain
Chapter 158: I AM NOT HELPING YOU

Chapter 158: I AM NOT HELPING YOU

Just then, Lyle reached out to her, persistent in his attempts. Initially, Olivia ignored his calls, not wanting to confront whatever rage he might unleash.

She knew he would be ready to say, ’I told you so,’ about Marcus. But avoiding his calls would only lead to further trouble.

Finally, she picked up the phone. "Hello?" Olivia greeted him, her tone laced with reluctance.

"Do you have time?" Lyle shot back, his voice firm.

"What is it?" Olivia scrunched her brows, sensing urgency.

"I want to meet you. There is something I need to talk about," he said.

"What do you want to talk about?" She asked, her skepticism rising.

"Look, I know things haven’t been great between us since our last argument, but let’s say I will buy you a meal," Lyle offered.

Olivia hesitated, contemplating whether to agree. Yet the urgency in Lyle’s voice stirred something inside her.

"Okay," she finally said, reluctantly agreeing to meet.

She then prepared herself and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She appeared pale, with dark circles undermining her eyes.

The woman staring back at her was almost unrecognizable.

Just a week ago, she felt like the happiest person alive. Life was perfect; Marcus was improving, and her business was thriving. But now, it all seemed to have unraveled, leaving her feeling as though she had reverted to square one.

Olivia couldn’t shake the feeling that everything she had worked for was slipping through her fingers once again.

***

When they met, Lyle immediately noticed how pale Olivia was. She looked very haggard, appearing so worn out that it was obvious something was wrong.

Even so, knowing Olivia, she wouldn’t admit it. Lyle felt a mix of anger and guilt for having left Olivia alone, but he also knew his sister was incredibly stubborn.

He was well aware that she wouldn’t willingly accept his disapproval of her relationship with Marcus. This was not the first time, though.

"Hi," Olivia said lightly, trying to mask her fatigue. She had applied heavy makeup to cover her tired appearance, but it failed to conceal the exhaustion in her eyes.

It looked as though she might collapse at any moment.

"What do you want to talk about?" Olivia asked abruptly, her voice sharp. "You asked me to come here, away from my apartment. What kind of urgency do you have?" She frowned, sensing that Lyle was not like usual; it wasn’t typical for him to reach out like this.

However, instead of diving straight into the issue at hand, Lyle posed a question that had been weighing on his mind.

"Why do you keep going back to someone who doesn’t even want you, Olivia?" It pained him to see how foolish she seemed for repeatedly returning to Marcus, who had hurt her in the worst way possible.

Hearing that question, Olivia could only let out a deep sigh. She realized she couldn’t dodge this topic with Lyle.

"I will let him go," she murmured. "Every wound, every rejection, every moment of feeling unwanted... I will live with all those feelings, but when I am finally done, I will be done."

But Lyle shook his head, expressing his disagreement once again. "You know what? At this point, when you are done, you will either be crazy or dead." His tone turned cold, leaving an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air between them.

***

James was relentless in his attempts to contact Laurel. He explored every way possible, even reaching out to Denzel again, but each of Denzel’s efforts met the same deafening silence.

Meanwhile, Laurel was aware of all their messages, having read them during a hazy stupor fueled by alcohol.

Her father, yes, her own father, had blamed her for running away from her problems, insisting that he had raised her better than that. Laurel could only laugh at his attempts to make her feel guilty.

After he criticized her for her failed marriage and sided with her unfaithful soon-to-be ex-husband, Denzel escalated to threats.

He told her that if Laurel didn’t return and resolve things with James, he would cut her off from his will.

Laurel found that threat amusing; she had enough money to live happily for the rest of her life without his inheritance. It was clear to her that Denzel had never truly supported her, which wasn’t surprising considering he was a cheater himself.

A week had passed since the ambush in the Leighton family home, and James finally managed to track her down to her new apartment.

It was an afternoon, and Laurel had just awakened from a hangover when she heard a knock at the door.

Glancing at the CCTV camera, she saw James standing there, carrying a bucket of flowers, the very kind she liked.

She was perplexed. Did he genuinely think everything would be resolved with flowers? Did he believe she would cave simply because of it?

"Laurel, please open the door. We need to talk," James called out from behind the door. "Laurel, I know you are inside. Come outside and speak with me." He pleaded, but Laurel could only glare at the door, feeling as though she were staring at an enemy.

James continued his relentless knocking on the door, begging Laurel to let him in so they could talk. "Laurel, I am sorry. I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t mean to hurt you. That’s not what I want. I have ended things with her. I will never see her again. I won’t even breathe her name! Please, Laurel. Carl needs you. Carl needs his mother. You are the only person he listens to, and he is going astray without you!"

On the other side of the door, Laurel expected nothing less.

This was not the first time James had used Carl to win her back. He played that card all too well, and each mention of Carl’s name only fueled her anger further.

Gradually, the spell faded, revealing a stark truth: the image of James as the perfect partner was dissolving. A cold reality replaced it.

His voice, which had once comforted her, now grated on her nerves. Each cry and plea from him only exacerbated her frustration, leaving her to question why she had ever loved him in the first place.

Perhaps it was the remnants of her hangover speaking, distorting her perceptions and emotions. A man who was, almost in his fifties, crying and begging, actually was not really appealing...

But as James continued to plead to no avail, and after an hour had passed without her opening the door, something in him shifted.

His desperation morphed into anger; he kicked her door and pounded on it. "Open the door! Open it now! Laurel, don’t be so childish! You can’t resolve the problem by running away like this! If you want to be angry with me, then talk to me. Just open this door!" His voice was loud and feral, startling Laurel.

She had never seen this side of him before.

Yet, instead of calling the police or building security, Laurel found herself reaching out to Hazel for help.

She wasn’t sure why Hazel crossed her mind in that moment, but the need for support was overwhelming. Laurel picked up her phone and dialed her number.

On the other hand, Hazel was taking a nap, and she answered with a sleepy voice. "What is it?"

"I need your help," Laurel said, urgency lacing her tone.

But Hazel groaned in response, "No, I don’t have the energy to help today. Try again another time."

"Hazel, I am serious about this!" Laurel said sternly through the phone, her frustration peaking as she heard Hazel yawn lazily on the other end.

It was apparent that Hazel had no grasp of the urgency of the situation, but then, it was not even Hazel’s problem to begin with.

"No, I don’t have time. I am busy," Hazel replied with a blatant lie, and Laurel could tell that. If anything, she would probably drift back to sleep the moment they ended the call.

"I really need your help right now. Why can’t you help me with this?" Laurel urged, desperation lacing her voice.

"No, I don’t want to help you. We don’t have that kind of relationship," Hazel retorted.

"You need to come here! I genuinely need your help!" Laurel insisted.

Hazel’s response was dismissive. "I have helped you enough in the past. I will pass this time."

After some back-and-forth, Laurel finally managed to convince her sister-in-law to come to the apartment. It took Hazel a grueling two hours to arrive, and by that time, James had gone through a whirlwind of emotions.

He had begged Laurel, then shifted to anger when he felt ignored, and then returned to pleading. He cried, banged on the door, and alternated between threats and apologies, cycling through this emotional turmoil.

When Hazel finally arrived at the apartment, James was consumed by his rage. Thankfully, she had brought extra bodyguards assigned by Ranon for her protection.

Ranon had taken precautions to ensure Hazel’s safety, which also made it more difficult for her to move around.

However, Hazel had decided to put her plans for revenge against Arlo and Aubrey on hold; she needed to focus on her pregnancy, as her growing stomach restricted her movements.

"Mr. Starling," Hazel called to him, her tone firm, and this captured his attention. "I think you need to leave this place, sir," Hazel said. Nolu and Yara flanked her.

James paused; the anger was palpable.

"Stay away from this, Mrs. Leighton; this is none of your business!"