Layla (Not Edited)|✔️

Chapter 7

I needed to leave right now. I had just gotten an important call from one of my men while I was in the bathroom. Turns out the Russians had intercepted one of my trucks containing cocaine and I needed to handle the matter swiftly.

I had wanted to leave before Layla woke up, couldn't bear to look into those sad brown eyes, that I was sure was staring at me in fright.

After what I had done last night to her, I was fairly certain that she would start to behave. I didn't want a repeat of what happened last time, because if she were to run away again and I caught her, I wasn't so sure that I would be as lenient as I had been.

I didn't feel any remorse for letting her sleep on the ground or almost choking her to death. She had to learn who was in charge and since she insists on pushing my buttons, then I had no problem teaching her the hard way.

I will not tolerate people whose sole goal is to defy me.

That's how I was raised. My father had toughened me up from an early age. Whenever I slipped up, he would make sure to punish me in a way that I would never forget so that I never make the same mistake twice.

He was a hard man, never shown me love. I guess that's why I am the way that I am today. He wasn't grown in a home with love, so he made sure I wasn't either.

Love makes you weak son and your enemies will use that weakness against us. I can't really remember my mother, because she died when I was ten at the hands of one of my dad's enemy. She was the only person my dad showed love to.

When she died it was like a part of him had also died. I had to grow up without a mother, with a rock for a father. He was very good at hiding his emotions, never letting anyone see pass his tough exterior.

He groomed me to be the man I am today, never to show mercy or remorse.

I still don't understand how a warehouse full of highly trained men let one woman slip through their fingers. I was impressed by Layla, but I won't let her know that. She had survival instincts and in this world you needed it most.

It was my men's egos that were bruised more than anything when they had to inform me that Layla had managed to get away. She was a spitfire. I have never met a woman quite like her before, which made her very intriguing.

However, she was still annoying. Her stubbornness and will to disobey me annoyed me beyond bonds.

It was a good thing that she was easy on the eyes, with curves in all the right places, full perky breasts that my hands were itching to squeeze and a nice round butt begging to be spanked.

I had only decided to take her back to my room where I could keep an eye on her. Some of my men were insisting that I hand her over to them so that they could have their way with her, but I couldn't.

There was a nagging voice in the back of my mine that was telling me to keep her for myself. She looked so innocent and pure that I couldn't just hand her over to them so that they could corrupt and break her.