Possessing Farrah ✔️

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 (I)

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆☽Ⓛ❈Ⓒ☾⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Farrah's POV.

"Can I come to yours?"

I give Layton a suspicious look. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the chocolate torte Nora baked this morning, would it?"

He grins at me. "Come on! Please? I've already called my driver and cancelled pick-up. I saw it on your story, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all day."

I roll my eyes as we walk out of the school gates and down the road together. "Fine, fine, you can come round. But you're not staying for dinner, Dad will flip. He's got some business associates round; you know what he gets like."

Layton nods quickly. "Of course, I'll have my piece of torte and then I'll leave."

"Wow, you are blatantly just using this friendship for desserts. Here I thought we were friends," I fake being annoyed.

He throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in for a side hug. "Oh, Farrah, don't be like that, you know we're best friends. I only want to support your housekeeper. Who else is going to tell her what a good cook she is if I don't come round and taste her delicacies?"

I roll my eyes. "Indeed, who else?"

The black limo is waiting for me on the corner. The driver is out and opening the door before either Layton or I can. I thank him and slide into the backseat with Layton getting in next to me. We chat about school as the driver takes us to my home, we're there in twenty minutes.

The driver has to stop in front of the gates and present his ID to the armed guards. They nod and the gatekeeper lets him through. It takes a minute to drive up the long driveway to the yellow stone mansion that sits proudly in the middle of the estate. Layton doesn't bat an eyelid as the driver opens the door for him and he thanks him. Like me, Layton comes from money. We've been used to this kind of lifestyle our whole lives.

There are more armed guards patrolling the gardens. We ignore them and head inside, going straight to the kitchen. Nora is standing at the counter, preparing vegetables for dinner.

"Welcome home," she greets us warmly. "It is good to see you, Layton. I know what you're here for. The torte is in the fridge, help yourselves."

My best friend grins at my housekeeper and makes a beeline for the fridge. I get two plates and two cake forks out for us both. "Want a slice, Nora?"

"No, thank you, Farrah," she replies. "I sampled enough when making it."

"I don't know how you didn't eat the whole thing," Layton comments with wide eyes as he brings the dark chocolate dessert out from the fridge and sets it down.

I cut us each a generous piece and put them onto plates for us.

"Don't forget the double cream. Top shelf."

At Nora's reminder, Layton rushes back and grabs the cream. He pours some on each of our servings. We sit down at the island and tuck in, giving our compliments to the chef seeing as she's standing in front of us.

Nora has been our housekeeper for the last five years. She's more of a mother to me than my real mother ever has been. My childhood memories consist of Layton, absent parents, and hands-on nannies. I was passed from staff member to staff member as a child. I am sure my parents only had me so that there would be an heir to Daddy's empire. I know he wanted a son, too.

Too bad he's stuck with me.

"I finally got a tux for your party by the way," Layton says between mouthfuls.