Chapter 50
Layla’s POV
Two hours until the ceremony.
The bridal suite downstairs was a chaotic, suffocating nightmare of aerosol hairspray, pristine white silk, and a heavy, unspoken tension that felt like an anvil sitting directly on my chest.
I had just stepped out of my mother’s dressing room, my nerves completely shredded after watching her admire herself in her sprawling, multi-thousand-dollar lace gown.
The sheer weight of the guilt should have suffocated me right then and there. It should have brought me to my knees in shame.
But as I retreated down the quiet, carpeted hallway toward my own private room and reached out to click the heavy door shut, a large, broad hand caught the wooden frame.
Mateo slid inside before I could even draw a breath, shutting out the rest of the
