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Chapter_295
Samantha was dressed in a red silk nightgown that clung to her delicate, smooth skin. She held a glass of red wine in her hand, and as she turned to face Zion, who was standing at the door with his eyes tightly shut, a faint blush crept across her cheeks. A scornful sniff escaped her lips.
“Broad daylight?” she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Zion, open your eyes. What’s with this holier-than-thou act? You never said anything like that when we were together. Why are you suddenly acting all virtuous now?”
Zion’s ears flushed with embarrassment at her words, and memories of their past moments together flooded his mind.
I know too well how brutal Samantha can be when she confronts someone. Who knows what she might say next if I don’t respond? Zion thought to himself, his anxiety mounting. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened his eyes.
He saw Samantha in a new position—sitting on a chair next to the piano with her long legs crossed. The tips of her toes lightly brushed the floor, and her red gauze dress was a tantalizing mix of revealing and concealing. Zion’s throat tightened as he struggled to maintain his composure, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her.
In a somber tone, he said, “Samantha, we’ve already broken up. Don’t do this. You’re the heiress of the Mitchell family—the dream girl of every guy in Betrico. There’s no shortage of political scions who’d be more than happy to have you. I’m not the one.”
The weight of loss settled in Zion’s chest as he spoke, his voice laced with desolation. After finishing his sentence, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her anymore. He bowed his head, his fingers clenching into fists.
But Samantha didn’t respond with anger. Instead, she gave him a smile that was dangerously captivating. “Zion, you broke up with me on your own terms. Did you ever get my consent for that? I’m the one who starts the game, and I’ll be the one to end it. It’s not your call to break us up. Got it?”
Underneath her smile was an undeniable fury. This jerk still thinks about breaking up? Fine, I’ll make him pay in bed, she thought to herself, a wicked glint in her eye.
Zion looked at her, his voice barely a whisper. “Alright, then you say it. Break up.”
Samantha’s temper flared, her anger so intense she could have strangled him. Over the years, everyone outside had praised Zion for his gentlemanly demeanor, for his elegance and kindness. But Samantha, the one who had been closest to him, knew all too well that Zion was stubborn.
She glared at him, her gaze unreadable, and a heavy silence enveloped the room. Samantha placed her wine glass down, then strutted toward Zion with a provocative grace. Standing just in front of him, she flashed a smile that was both inviting and teasing. “Alright, if breaking up is what you want, then I won’t be the one to hold on. I’m on board. Let’s have a drink to sever our ties,” she said, pressing the glass into his hand and giving him a playful wink. “Go ahead and drink. Once that’s done, we’re history.”
Zion stood there, stunned, holding the wine glass. He was the one who had wanted to call it quits, but now that Samantha was the one walking away, the gut punch of loss hit him harder than he expected, leaving him gasping for air.
His hand tightened around the wine glass, and for what felt like two long minutes, he stood frozen. Finally, he raised his eyes to meet Samantha’s gaze. The reluctance in his eyes was clear as he downed the wine in one swift motion. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, falling to the floor and disappearing as if it had never been.
Samantha’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. This guy is putting on a show of deep affection, she thought. It must be all those piano keys that scrambled his brains. Why make things so complicated when they could be simple? Love is love, and if it’s over, it’s over. Be decisive. All this mess—this mule-headed man is just being stubborn. What’s the point of crying now?
But as she saw Zion in his state, a hint of tenderness welled up inside her.
After Zion finished his glass of red wine, his eyes were slightly glazed, his longing gaze still fixed on Samantha. “There. I’m done,” he said quietly.
Samantha brushed aside a few loose strands of hair, letting her wavy tresses cascade down her back. She glanced at Zion, whose eyes were reddened from emotion. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll be gone in ten minutes. Come over here and sit down.”
Zion, listening to his inner voice that told him he only had ten minutes, decided it was time to stop holding back. He went to the sofa and sat down neatly, his hands resting on his knees. Even though he was in his thirties, his gaze remained as pure and clear as that of a teenager.
This was exactly why Samantha had noticed Zion the moment she first laid eyes on him. She craved that kind of innocent, untainted gaze.
Zion looked at Samantha, still lost in a daze, and asked, “Aren’t you going to sit with me?”
After a brief hesitation, Samantha moved over and sat beside him. They were close enough that she could reach out and gently poke his lips. They were soft—one of the many things she had liked about him when they first started dating.
Feeling the soft touch of her fingertips on his lips, Zion’s body instantly tensed. Samantha had always had a thing for poking them, never seeming to get enough of it. She knew all his sensitive spots, and was about to touch his earlobe when, in the next moment, Zion’s cold hand had captured her wrist, his grip tightening with each passing second. Pressing his lips together, he spoke in an affectionate yet warning tone. “Stop teasing, would you? You know I have no defenses against you.”
Samantha looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She released her grip and said with a straight face, “No problem. I won’t touch you.”
Zion, however, felt a knot of confusion form in his chest. How can the assertive Samantha be so obedient? Something about this situation felt off to him.
For the next eight minutes, the two of them sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the moment. Despite the air conditioning being set low, Zion could feel a strange tingling sensation in his heart, as if little bugs were gnawing at him from within. He glanced at Samantha, who was smiling, and suddenly, something clicked for him. He realized what was happening.
He spoke with strained effort, his voice barely above a whisper. “Samantha, what have you done? This is insane!”
Samantha, resting her chin on her hand, looked up at him and nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, it’s exactly what you’re thinking. But don’t worry; it won’t have any lasting effects on you. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Zion, feeling the unease grow within him, sighed in defeat. “Just leave. I’m going to take a shower. I want you gone quickly.”
Samantha’s mood darkened. I won’t back down from what I want. The man I want is Zion. And no matter when, if I wish it, he has to be by my side—meekly staying put. If he doesn’t understand that, I’m ready to make him get it today.
Samantha sneered. “But I don’t want to go.”
Zion, feeling the weight of the situation, reluctantly gave in. “Alright,” he said, though his tone was still laced with resistance. As Samantha raised her hand, with a meaningful gaze, Zion responded, “Samantha, don’t you dare back out on me later.”
Samantha, her fingers playing with a strand of her long hair, whispered seductively into Zion’s ear, “I never will. You can count on it.”
Zion’s expression turned grim. Samantha’s fiery spirit was something no one could stop, and the fact that she had cooked up this scheme to drive him crazy was both endearing and infuriating.
It wasn’t until deep into the night that the door to Zion’s master bedroom reopened, ten full hours after midday.
