Sold To The Gangleader

Chapter 70

Killian's POV

"Hey, love." I open the door, and see Layla fast asleep in bed, on her belly while cuddling her pillow.

I puff out a breath glancing at the clock which showed that it was five minutes away from twelve.

She's had fourteen hours of sleep.

I walk towards her, pulling the duvet off her. Her eyes flash open before she lets out a whimper.

I had woken her up exactly like this last night at about ten, giving her some food as she stupidly decided to skip a meal.

"Ouch." She groans, as she rolls onto her back, her hands landing on her abdomen. As her eyes fall shut again.

I slide in next to her as my eyes land on what looked to be an album, next to her arm. And I pick it up, eying up the burnt up fur with the words "Lay" sewed in the middle, the corners all frizzled completely and I furrow my brows.

"What happened to this?" I glance down at her and she lets out a small sound, before her eyes peeled open, landing on the album in my hand, before filling up with sadness and she sighs.

"Don't know." Her voice comes out as a mere whisper, looking away and up at the ceiling as she drifts off to her thoughts.

I set the book down, before slipping my hand to the inside of my pocket fishing out a debit card that I had set up a few hours ago for her, along with inserting a couple of ten grands into it.

"I got your debit card." I tell her, and she turns her head to me, her face all puffed up and red like every morning.

"From home?" She whispers, her eyes dropping to the card.

"Sure."

"But my one was NatWest." She frowns, taking it from me. "Did you transfer my money?"

"Yup." I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to make her feel bad either, since she always did feel like that when using my money, persisting to pay me back when in reality I couldn't care less how much she used.

"Finally I can buy my own stuff without using your money." She sighs. "I'll pay you back soon."

"Don't bother." I roll my eyes, pulling off my blazer and stretching out my legs and she scoffs in response.

"Which one do you have, anyway?"

"I don't use one." I clear my throat, as I lean my back against the headboard and she scrambles up in a sitting position looking at me, curiously and my eyes drop down to her crinkled Minnie mouse PJ's.

"Why?" She asks, as I look up to her eyes again.

"Why do you think?" I raise a brow and she bites her lip in thought.

Few minutes later she speaks.

"Is it because you have billions of pounds and when you have a bank, the people look through it and they would get suspicious because you don't have a legal job and they'd be like where did he get all this money from and then–"

"Spot on." I cut off her ramble, and she lets out a yawn, rubbing her face.

"So where do you keep your money?" She then asks as I flip my phone out, clicking onto a message I've received from Kian.

"Keep it around a few countries, most stashed back in England." I speak out, my eyes running through the text and I narrow my eyes.

We've got another case today.

It says.

Which one? I respond.

The Phil guy wants us to kill his wife off for him. The one who ran off after groping and killing their only son.