CHAPTER 60: CLEARED OF ALL CHARGES

~LAYLA~

Henry stepped into Axel’s office confidently. The man was dressed in a charcoal gray suit, and his entire demeanour was very different from the rude man I’d encountered at the coffee shop.

"Good afternoon," he said, extending his hand to Axel. "Henry Porter."

"Axel O’Brien," my husband replied, standing to shake his hand. "Please, have a seat."

When Henry’s eyes landed on me, I could see the recognition flash across his face, but he said nothing.

I stood up, ready to excuse myself. "I should probably leave you two to your meeting," I said.

"It’s fine, Layla. You can stay," Axel said, gesturing for me to sit back down.

Henry settled into the chair beside me, and I caught a whiff of expensive cologne.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. O’Brein," Henry began. "I’ve been following your company’s exploits, and I’m impressed with what you’ve built here."

"I appreciate that. What exactly are you proposing?"

I barely listened to what followed. Something about market expansion, strategic partnerships, and investment opportunities.

My mind kept drifting between Henry’s professional facade and the entitled jerk who’d demanded my phone number over spilled coffee. It was like watching two completely different people occupy the same body.

"The numbers speak for themselves," Henry was saying, sliding a folder across Axel’s desk. "I believe we could triple your quarterly revenue within eighteen months."

"Those are ambitious projections," Axel replied, flipping through the documents.

"Ambitious but achievable. I’ve done it before with companies half your size."

"What kind of timeline are we looking at for implementation?"

"That would depend on how quickly you want to move. I’m prepared to start immediately if the terms are agreeable."

The meeting dragged on for almost thirty minutes. Henry spoke with the kind of polished confidence that came from years of successful business dealings. He was articulate, persuasive, and completely professional.

Finally, Axel closed the folder. "This is certainly interesting, Mr. Porter. I’ll need some time to review everything."

"Of course. Shall we schedule a follow-up meeting for next week?"

"Let me check my calendar and get back to you."

"Perfect." Henry stood and extended his hand again. "Thank you for your time."

They shook hands, and Henry turned to me with a polite nod. "Mrs. O’Brien."

I nodded back, saying nothing.

As he headed for the door, he caught my eyes one more time. There was something unreadable in his expression, but he left without another word.

I had no idea I was staring at the closed door until Axel’s voice broke through my thoughts. "Layla?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay? You look like you know that guy."

"It’s the same guy I was just telling you about."

Axel’s eyebrows shot up. "The guy you spilled coffee on?"

"The very same."

"You’re kidding."

"I wish I were."

Axel leaned back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. "So that was Mr. Dry-Cleaning-Drama himself?"

I burst into laughter despite everything. "Mr. Dry-Cleaning-Drama? Really?"

"What? It fits."

"I can’t believe that’s the same person who just gave you a business presentation. What a coincidence."

"People can be surprising. Maybe he’s only a jerk when coffee is involved."

"Or maybe he’s just good at putting on an act when he wants something."

Before Axel could respond, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. "It’s my lawyer," he said, answering the call. "Hello."

I watched as Axel listened with a neutral expression. He didn’t say much beyond "I see" and "Thank you for calling."

When he hung up, there was a small smile on his face.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"They made a breakthrough in the PI investigation case. You’ve been completely cleared of all charges."

I felt a wave of relief, even though I’d been expecting this news. "Really?"

"Really. They found evidence linking Kendall’s murder to one of his other cases. You’re officially in the clear."

"That’s... that’s great news."

But deep down, I already knew who was really responsible, or very likely—my father. And it was only a matter of time before I exposed him for everything he’d done.

"How are you feeling about it?" Axel asked.

"Relieved, I guess. Though I never really thought they’d be able to make a case against me."

"Still, it must feel good to have it officially behind you."

"It does."

Now we can focus on other important things." Axel glanced at his watch. "You know, it’s been a while since we had lunch together at work. Want to grab something to eat?"

I realised I was actually hungry for the first time in days. "Sure."

We walked to the restaurant just a block from the office building. The hostess seated us at a table by the window, and we ordered without much discussion.

"So what did you think of Henry’s proposal?" I asked as we waited for our food.

"It’s actually not bad. His projections might be optimistic, but the basic strategy is sound."

"Are you going to work with him?"

"I’m considering it. Why? Would that be a problem for you?"

I thought about it. "I don’t know. There’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way."

"Besides the coffee incident?"

"Maybe that’s all it is. First impressions and all that."

"Or maybe your instincts are telling you something."

"Maybe."

Our salads arrived, and we ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Helena seems to really dislike him," I said eventually, briefly telling him about his relationship with Helena.

"Well, abandoning your family tends to leave lasting resentment."

"I can understand that. I keep thinking about what she went through, raising her brothers alone at eighteen."

"It takes real strength to step up like that."

"It does. Makes me think about my own family situation."

"How so?"

"Just... the difference between people who take responsibility and people who run away when things get difficult."

Axel nodded thoughtfully. "Family dynamics can be complicated."

"That’s putting it mildly."

"Speaking of family, how are you feeling about Friday?"

I knew he was referring to the funeral. "Nervous, I guess. I’m not sure what to expect."

"Do you think your father will try to prevent you from attending?"

"He might. But I’m going anyway."

"Good. You have every right to be there."

I picked at my salad, thinking about everything that had happened in the past week: the documents under my mattress, Daniel’s confession of love, and the fake death certificate.

"Axel?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you be free to join me at my mother’s burial?"