My Lame Bossy Billionaire

"Guards, throw her out! She's not welcomed here!" 

As soon as the order was given, several bodyguards in black uniforms manhandled a girl and threw her out of the Herbert Family's villa.

"Ouch!" Layla Ward fell to the ground and her face twisted in pain.

Within seconds, a crowd of onlookers surrounded her.

"Hey, isn't that Layla?"

"I heard that she was expelled from high school for getting involved in complicated relationships."

"Yes, I also heard that she had been pursuing the second young master of the Herbert Family for several years. She even said that she was his childhood sweetheart. How ridiculous!"

The crowd of wealthy ladies dressed in luxurious gowns surrounded Layla and criticized her.

Meanwhile, Layla was dressed in an exaggeratedly coloured T-shirt and a pair of torn jeans. Her hair was dyed blonde and her face was covered by heavy makeup. She looked just like a hooligan.

Layla stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone was shocked by her unexpected appearance at the Herbert Family's engagement ceremony and her attempt to stop Fred Herbert from getting engaged.

In the end, she was thrown out mercilessly.

However, how could these people in the upper class understand the story behind a nobody like Layla?

Layla could tell that the crowd of people were instructed to ridicule her out in the open.

She also knew who was behind all of this. As expected, she looked up and saw the satisfied smile on Sally's face!

Those speculations and rumours uttered by the crowd earlier were indeed the truth, and each sentence felt like a stab in Layla's chest. No one knew how hurtful it was to her.

The crowd began to whisper among themselves while staring at her in disdain.

Yet, Layla couldn't care less about them. Instead, her determined gaze was fixed on a tall boy clad in a white suit. He was none other than Fred, who was once the love of her life.

However, Fred looked at her indifferently. Apart from disgust and contempt, his eyes were devoided of other emotions. He wasn't even bothered to say a word to her.

At this moment, Sally pretended to sympathise with Layla. She stepped forward and said, "Layla, I've already told you that Fred would never return your feelings. Why didn't you listen to me? We are best friends. I can give you anything you want, but please don't destroy my relationship with Fred. Okay?"

She sounded like she was the victim instead.

After Sally put on the show, the crowd looked at Layla even more disdainfully.

"I can't believe she tried to steal her best friend's boyfriend."

"Why won't she take a look at herself? The makeup looks ugly on her. She can never compare to Miss Sally."

Growing up in an orphanage, Layla had heard all kinds of insults directed towards her.

However, nothing was more heartbreaking than watching the boy she loved hugging and comforting the hypocritical Sally faking her tears. Fred turned to Layla and said coldly, "I'm not calling the police for Sally's sake. Get out of here right now."

Layla's heart broke, but a smile formed on her face.

She slowly stood up and dusted her clothes. Then, she rolled her eyes and snarled, "Who cares about her false kindness? Sally, one day I will get back everything you took from me."

After that, Layla turned around and limped out of the gate.

She had to be strong in front of others, but after turning a corner and disappearing from the crowd's sight, she started crying uncontrollably. Her tears smeared her eyeliners, leaving two black streaks down her pallid cheeks.

Layla left the Herbert Family's villa gloomily, but she was stopped by a young man at the gate. "Are you Miss Ward? The young master wants to see you."

"The young master?"

Layla felt strange. She subconsciously looked back at Fred, who had already entered the villa with Sally in his arms.

"It's not the second young master, but the first young master. Please come with me."

Thompson led Layla to the limo parked by the roadside. He opened the car door and said, "Miss Ward, Mr. Herbet is waiting for you in the car."

Layla peered into the car and saw a tall and figure seated inside. She couldn't see the man's face clearly.

She reached out and touched her tear-stained cheek. The poor quality eyeliners had smudged her makeup and made her look even messier.

Thompson couldn't stand it anymore. He took out a handkerchief and handed it to her. "Do you want to clean your face?"

"No, thank you." Layla shook her head.

Upon hearing that, Thompson got into the car and placed the handkerchief on the leather cushion. Only then he was willing to let her take a seat.

Layla frowned at this.

She wondered angrily if he thought she was filthy. 

Thompson's behaviour gave Layla a bad impression of Mr. Herbert, albeit having not met the man yet. It seemed that the latter was no different than those hypocrites who had mocked her e