CHAPTER 135: WHAT COMES NEXT

~LAYLA~

I clung to Axel’s arm as we zipped bags, his word, war, still ringing in my ears. Cassandra and Charles framing us for cartel laundering?

It was absolutely insane, something out of a crime thriller, not real life. The trial was approaching, and they were probably doing this just to distract or derail us from building a strong case.

"We can’t let this mafia nonsense distract us from what matters," I said, forcing my voice to sound steadier than I felt. "The trial. We need to focus on the trial."

Axel nodded as he threw the last of our clothes into the suitcase. "Trial first. Tye’s already digging into those forged documents, tracking down who created them and how they got distributed to the cartels. We’ll bury Charles and Cassandra in court before they can escalate this any further."

"And if they do escalate?"

"Then we deal with it. But right now, we play it cool. Act normal at checkout. Get home safely. Then we regroup with the legal team."

We finished packing in silence, the romantic haze from this morning completely shattered by reality crashing back in. Within fifteen minutes, we were dragging our luggage to the main lodge.

Ellen spotted us immediately, rushing over with her usual enthusiasm. "Leaving us so soon! We’re going to miss our champions." She pulled me into a tight hug. "You two have something truly special. Don’t ever forget that."

"We won’t," I promised, managing a smile despite the fear churning in my stomach.

Richard shook Axel’s hand. "Take care of each other out there. The world can be rough on marriages, especially new ones. But you’ve got a solid foundation."

"We do," Axel agreed, his arm sliding around my waist protectively.

Victoria and Ronald stood nearby, engaged in what looked like a tense conversation. When Victoria noticed us watching, she approached with an unreadable expression.

"Safe travels," she said simply. "And Layla? What I said earlier... I meant it."

"Thank you, Victoria. Take care of yourself."

Ronald gave a stiff nod in our direction but said nothing, clearly looking uncomfortable. The knowledge of his affair hung between him and Axel like a loaded gun.

We made our goodbyes to the other couples, accepted congratulations on our "perfect match" victory one more time, and finally escaped to the car.

The moment we were alone, the masks dropped. Axel’s hand found mine immediately, gripping tight as he drove off the winding road.

"We’re going to be okay," he said quietly. "Whatever Charles throws at us, we’ll handle it together."

"Together," I echoed, squeezing his hand. Our new closeness felt like armour, something solid to hold onto in the chaos.

The two-hour drive home felt both too long and too short. We spent most of it in silence, each lost in our own thoughts about what awaited us. Hitmen. Forged documents. A trial in aabout two weeks or so. It was overwhelming.

When we finally pulled into our driveway, I half-expected to see suspicious figures lurking in the shadows. But everything looked normal. Peaceful, even.

"Tye’s team swept the house already," Axel said, reading my mind. "It’s secure. They’ve set up additional surveillance, and we’ve got guards posted at every entry point."

"How long do we have to live like this?"

"Until we figure out who’s behind it and shut them down permanently."

Inside, Axel immediately set up a video call with our legal team. Within minutes, three attorneys appeared on the screen in his study: Brennan, our lead counsel, along with two associates whose names I was still learning.

"We have good news and bad news," Marcus said without preamble. "Which do you want first?"

"Good news," I said. "We could use some right now."

"The expert report came back. Cassandra’s brake lines were deliberately cut, not a mechanical failure. The cuts were clean, and done by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. It’s absolutely intentional sabotage. We’ve got her."

Relief flooded through me. "That’s huge."

"It is," Brennan agreed. "Combined with the dashcam footage, this should be enough to get the assault charge reinstated and secure a conviction on reckless endangerment at minimum."

"What’s the bad news?" Axel asked.

"Judge Thornton. We filed for her recusal, citing Charles Watson’s financial ties to her campaign and her law firm. The motion was granted this morning."

"Wait, that’s good news too," I said, confused.

"It would be, except the replacement judge hasn’t been assigned yet. That means potential delays to the trial date. We’re pushing to keep it on schedule, but there’s a chance it gets moved."

"How much of a delay are we talking?" Axel’s hand tightened on mine.

"Could be a week, could be a month. The court system moves slowly when reassigning cases."

"And the other bad news?" I prompted, sensing there was more.

Brenna hesitated. "Without Daniel’s testimony on the intentional abortion, we can’t use that as evidence. The countersuit might still stand. The hospital records Cassandra submitted look legitimate on the surface. We need Daniel to testify that he saw the abortion pills, that she admitted to faking the pregnancy loss. Without him, it’s just hearsay."

I swallowed hard. "So we need to find Daniel."

"Desperately," Brennan confirmed. "Our investigators are still searching, but he’s vanished completely. His phone’s off, his credit cards unused, and his car abandoned at that rest stop with blood on the steering wheel. Either he’s in hiding or someone got to him."

"Charles," I said bitterly. "It has to be."

"Likely, but we have no proof. So for now, let’s talk trial strategy assuming we keep the original date..."

The meeting lasted another hour, going over witness lists, evidence presentation, and potential defence strategies. By the time we signed off, my head was pounding.

"I need a drink," I said, slumping back in Axel’s desk chair.

"I need several." He stood, stretching. "But first, we need to talk about something else."

"What?"

"What happens after. When this is all over. When Cassandra’s convicted and Charles is neutralised, and we can finally breathe again."

I looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean us, Layla. Our marriage. Our life together." He pulled me to my feet. "We never got a real honeymoon. We’ve been so focused on survival that we haven’t thought about what comes next."

"A honeymoon?"