Sebastian Knight froze for a moment. Was she serious? If she really didn't want his money, then what was the $28,800 about in the first place? He wasn't one to be cheap, so he kept his tone even. "I don't want anyone knowing you're my wife. But since you're taking care of my daughter, I'll give you a monthly allowance of $3,000."
Layla Jensen perked up the second she heard $3,000 a month. It was tempting — really tempting — but she still shook her head. "There's no need, Mr. Knight. I have a job. I can support myself. I'm already grateful just to have a roof over my head, and looking after Avianna is the least I can do. You don't have to pay me extra."
"Must you be so formal with me? Or do you think I'm that old?" Sebastian frowned, clearly put off. Early thirties, still very much in his prime, and here she was making him sound like some elder.
Layla gave a quick, apologetic nod. "I'm sorry. I'll keep that in mind."
Sebastian pressed on. "Like I said, $3,000 a month. Just keep quiet about our relationship." He started to turn away, then stopped cold. Right. This was the master bedroom — not exactly a place for him to retreat to.
He paused, eyes narrowing as he took in the girl standing there, all shy and uncertain. "Are you willing to take on the responsibilities of being my wife?"
Layla wasn't ready for that one. She looked up at him — way up. The man was huge, had to be over six feet. Her neck craned just to meet his gaze. His question sent heat flooding her cheeks. She dropped her eyes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, totally struggling to answer.
Seeing her squirm, Sebastian decided not to push it. "If you change your mind later, you can come to this room at night. I'll compensate you then. You can go rest now."
He figured she'd jump at the offer. A woman like her — shallow, willing to do anything for cash. But to his surprise, Layla gave a firm nod and walked out without so much as a backward glance.
Sebastian stood there, confused. Then it clicked. She was playing it cool. It was literally her first day here — of course she had to act all composed so she wouldn't come across as desperate and off-putting. Gotta hand it to her, she was one hell of an actress.
Back in the room Monica had set up for her, Layla let out a long, shaky breath. What was Mr. Knight even talking about? Offering her money to play wife — how was that not just a straight-up transaction? She knew she owed him $28,800. If he hadn't thrown extra cash at her, maybe, just maybe, she would've considered eventually doing those duties. But now? Not a chance. She wasn't the type to sell herself for money.
That night, the unfamiliar surroundings messed with her sleep. Layla tossed and turned, chasing her tail through one nightmare after another, and woke up at the crack of dawn.
Feeling like she ought to earn her keep in someone else's house, she headed down to the kitchen. By the time Sebastian came downstairs, breakfast was already on the table.
When Monica arrived to take care of Avianna, she couldn't help singing Layla's praises to Sebastian. "Mr. Knight, Mrs. Jensen is unreal. She was up at the crack of dawn, busy in the kitchen — I couldn't stop her. She made everything from scratch."
Sebastian studied the girl stepping out of the kitchen with new eyes. He'd pegged her as some money-hungry trophy wife who'd lay around the second she snagged the Mrs. Knight title. Instead, here she was cooking meals. Maybe she was trying to prove him wrong.
But he didn't give Layla any credit. Instead, his face went hard, and he turned to Monica. "If you can't do your job, I'll find someone who can."
Monica panicked, apologizing like crazy. "I'm so sorry, sir. It won't happen again. I swear, I won't let Mrs. Jensen into the kitchen anymore."
Layla, totally confused, rushed to explain. "I wanted to do it. It's not Monica's fault."
Sebastian ignored her, eating with that cold, commanding presence of his. After a beat, he said, his voice low and full of authority, "I believe in doing the work you're paid for. If you want to replace her as housekeeper, I'll accommodate you."
Layla started to explain again, but Monica shot her a pleading look. "Mrs. Jensen, please. I need this job."
Hesitating, Layla finally nodded at Monica. "Alright. I won't take over your duties again."
She untied the apron from her waist and sat down to eat. Monica quickly set a place for her.
After breakfast, Sebastian headed off to the office. Layla and Monica dropped Avianna at preschool, then Layla went straight to the hospital for her shift. She was interning at a private hospital, pulling in about $450 a month. Two months left in her internship, and she was gunning for a full-time spot — better pay, better benefits.
Determined to crush it, Layla poured everything into her work. She got to the nurse's station, threw on her white coat, and started her shift. The head nurse sent her to set up an IV for Bed 18.
Prepped with supplies, Layla headed to the VIP ward. Those beds were strictly for the rich and powerful. She reached Bed 18, double-checked the patient's name, and started prepping for an allergy test and the IV line. The patient smiled at her and asked, "So, you Jacob's girlfriend?"
Startled, Layla looked up. Guy looked early twenties, young and handsome, and vaguely familiar. Seeing her freeze, Mathias Knight laughed. "I'm Jacob's old college roommate. I've seen you around — you went to the med school next door, used to visit Jacob all the time. I'm guessing you're... Layla, right?"
Layla remembered him then. Yeah, her ex's roommate. Back when she'd visit Jacob at Harvard, this guy was always shooting hoops with him.
Thinking about Jacob sent a sharp ache through her chest, but she kept working, steady and focused. "We broke up."
"Oh?" Mathias sounded skeptical, but his smile came quick. "You were right to break up, honestly. Jacob wasn't good enough for you. A girl like you deserves way better."
Layla said nothing, just focused on her task. She and Jacob had been high school sweethearts. He'd chased her, and his family was well-off. Hers? Broke, with parents who doted on her brother and left her to fend for herself. She'd had to work her way through school, telling everyone she was just working instead of continuing her education.
She'd hoped Jacob would step up and help. But every time money came up, he went silent. Like when she brought up the $28,800 bride price — told him she'd marry him if he could get that money, and they'd pay back any loans together. Jacob said no. He broke it off.
They say tough times reveal true love, and Layla finally saw Jacob for what he was. Felt lucky she never gave herself to him during those five years. All of it fell apart over a bride price.
Maybe him never getting what he wanted wore his patience thin. Layla didn't blame Jacob's pragmatism. She blamed her family situation that forced her to keep sacrificing.
After finishing Mathias's IV, Layla was about to leave with the tray when he threw out, "Let's swap info. My leg's gonna be stuck here a while. You can help me out with meals, and I'll tip you for it."
