Samantha whimpered.
Ian smirked.
"Good girl," he repeated, gently patting her head. "So, as I was saying before,"
Suddenly, Ian's eyes bulged. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor with a strangled groan, clutching his groin.
Samantha had driven her knee straight into his dick. Hard.
She stepped closer, bent slightly, and dusted off her hands.
"Shh," She lifts a finger to her lips. "You wouldn't want to make any noise now, would you?"
"Fuck. Fuck!" he groaned, glaring at her.
She smacked her lips. "Ian... you're being loud." She tilted her head. "What do you think people would assume if someone walked in and found you on the floor like this? What would they think you are doing to a millionaire's daughter?"
Fear flickered across his face.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
She smiled, slow and devilish. "I think we understand each other."
She turned, ready to leave.
"Wait," Ian forced out.
Samantha paused. "Don't make me hate you, Ian."
"Then don't." His voice cracked with pain. "I am sorry about before. I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted you to hear me." He swallowed. "I can't lose you, Sammy."
"You already did."
Samantha squares her shoulder and walks away.
By the time she returned to the main room, she was composed again. The perfect host, with the perfect smile in place.
Frederick and James were preparing to leave, and nearly half of the guests had already gone, including Claire. Samantha was relieved. She didn't have to deal with her again.
"We are going to the club after this," James said. "No need to call Dave. He looked tired when I last saw him."
Samantha agreed and walked them to their parked cars. Catherine and Natalie left soon after with the rest of the guests.
"Thank you all for coming," Samantha called, waving as the guests dispersed. "We appreciate it."
When she was finally alone, she turned back towards the house and stared at the porch.
Dave wasn't there.
Maybe he'd gone inside.
Something glinted on the steps. She walked over and bent down, her breath catching.
Dave's wristwatch.
She picked it up.
Where was he?
As she straightened, she noticed the porch light flickering. She made a mental note to tell the housekeeper to change the bulb. Then irritation surged as the memory of Ian pinning her against the wall resurfaced.
How dare he!
Wait.
Samantha glanced toward the window, then back at the porch.
It hit her.
Dave must have seen her with Ian earlier.
What if he thought she was cheating?
The thought filled her with dread.
She clenched the watch in her fist and rushed inside, nearly colliding with Ian as he headed out.
"Samantha-"
"Not now, IAN!"
Samantha brushes past him into the living room.
Dave wasn't there.
Her heart racing, she ran upstairs to Dave's bedroom. Empty. The bathroom... empty. She dashed into her room. Nothing.
Sweating as she searched every room on the second floor. Nothing.
She bolted back downstairs. Ian stood at the bottom, watching her.
She ignored him and ran past.
He caught her arm.
She spun on him, eyes blazing. "WHAT?!"
"What is wrong?" Ian asked softly. "Let me help."
"You...you caused this." Her voice broke as a sob broke free. She yanked her arm from his grip, forced a shaky breath. "You can't fix this. You'll only make it worse. You should leave."
"If I caused it," Ian said quietly, "then I should fix it."
Samantha shook her head, exhausted. "I don't care. Do you?"
She turned away and kept searching.
What if he has left? What if he didn't want her anymore? What if he thought they weren't worth fighting for?
The thoughts chased her through the house.
Why the hell does this house have so many rooms?!
Her phone alarm chimed.
Samantha glanced at the screen--10:00 p.m. Her medication reminder.
She dismissed it.
A small, relieved smile tugged at her lips. "I can call him. Why didn't I think about that before?"
"Have you found what you are looking for?" Ian asked from behind her.
She ignored him and dialed Dave's number.
"Pick up...please pick up," she whispered, eyes closed. "Please..."
She opened them.
A phone rang nearby.
Her gaze snapped to the study door just a few feet away.
Relief washed through her.
He hadn't left.
She runs into the room and yanks the door open.
"Dave, I am sor-"
She froze.
Claire's tongue was in Dave's mouth.
They were kissing.
"Wha-what... what is going on?" Samantha's legs went weak.
She staggered back. Ian caught her just as a china vase slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.
The crash tore Dave and Claire apart.
"S-Samantha... I-I... Babe..." Dave stammered, shoving Claire away and scrambling off the couch.
Samantha didn't wait. She bolted from the room, tears blurring her vision, her heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything else.
Ian caught her wrist.
"Why are you leaving?" he snapped, anger flaring in his eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong. He did."
"I don't have time for this," she choked, trying to pull past him. "Let me go."
He tightened his grip. "No."
"What?!"
"Sammy, you deserve better than this, and you know it."
"I-I..." Her voice broke completely. "I don't understand anything anymore."
All of her defenses broke.
"Baby..." Ian pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back as she broke down.
"Ian, don't touch me," she sobbed, wrenching free.
Footsteps thundered behind them.
"Sam! Stop!" Dave shouted.
"I can't," she whispered.
"The last time I saw you," Ian said coldly, stepping between them, "I respected your marriage and stepped aside. But now? You lost that right. So get the fuck off."
"This is my house," Dave snapped. "Get out of the way."
He turns to Samantha, eyes desperate. "We need to talk... without outsiders involved."
"—He's right," Samantha cuts in, tears spilling.
Ian's face fell.
"I don't know why any woman would stay with a selfish bastard like you," Ian muttered.
"This has nothing to do with you," Dave growled, grabbing Samantha's arm. "Sam, let me explain."
She yanked free and grabbed Ian's hand.
"You've got it all wrong. YOU need to fuck off and let me be!"
She turned blindly toward the door.
Dave reached for her. "Please. Let me explain-"
She flinched.
[|]
Samantha collapsed against the steering wheel, crying her heart out.
She couldn't believe it.
She had thought everything was fine. That they were building a life together. That it would all work out.
A fairy tale.
Instead, she was there in her car, shattered, and having no idea what to do.
One thing she was certain of: she couldn't go back to Dave right now. Everything was a lie. His confessions. His promises. All of it.
A knock on the window made her jerk upright.
Ian.
"Open the door, Sammy," he said.
Samantha shook her head, wiping her face. "I want to be alone. Please. Leave me alone."
"Sammy," he said calmly, "I'll count to five. Then I'll break the window."
His voice was dangerously calm.
"One..."
He paused.
"Two-"
The lock clicked. She unlocked the door.
"What?" she snapped.
"Get out."
"Huh?"
"You can't drive in that state," he said. "Get out. I will drive."
"Bu-but-"
"But what?"
"I—I'm not leaving,"
Ian opened the passenger door and stepped back. "You're not in a state to drive. I'll take you somewhere quiet. Then you can decide."
"No."
"Excuse me, Miss." Ian held her hand and gently but firmly pulled her out and guided her to the passenger side. "Get in, Sammy."
She obeyed.
He shuts the door, circles the circle, and slides into the driver's seat.
"What are you doing?" She demanded. "I said I am not leaving."
"I heard you," Ian said evenly. "You seem to have forgotten something. I always do what I want. He hurt you, so we are leaving."
He pulled out of the driveway.
Through the rear window, she saw Dave sprint into the street after them.
"Stop," Samantha cried, grabbing Ian's arm.
"No."
"He... He might have a good reason," she whispered, tears spilling again. "Maybe I should hear him out."
She was shaking with sobs now.
"You are not in any position to make any decision," Ian said calmly. "I am."
"Ian...he might feel sorry," she sobbed. She knew it didn't make sense, but she just couldn't accept that everything had been a lie.
Ian shot her a look.
She let go of his arm and slumped back in the seat, exhausted.
She hated that he was right.
"Marrying that fool turned you mentally impaired," Ian said flatly. "The Samantha I knew wouldn't stay where she's treated like this."
A tear slid down her cheeks.
Ian was right.
And she hated him for it.