Chapter 2

Samantha

I pulled back instinctively, the warmth of his breath still lingering on my skin. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. How did he know my name? And why did the sound of it make my blood run cold?

The mysterious man didn't flinch, as though he had expected my reaction. He held my gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable. With unsettling calm, he extended his hand toward me.

"Well," he said, his voice smooth and composed, "nice to meet you, Samantha. My name is Jack. Jack Smith."

**Smith.** The name echoed in my mind, setting off alarm bells. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as if he enjoyed watching the realization dawn on me.

"My stepsister," he continued casually, "is closing a multi-million dollar deal with your fiancé."

The room seemed to tilt, his words hitting me harder than the alcohol coursing through my veins. **Jack Smith.** Clara Smith's brother. No, her stepbrother. The connection was both obvious and terrifying. Suddenly, the man sitting before me was no longer just a handsome stranger. He was tied to the very woman who had just stolen my life away.

I stared at him, my heart pounding. What kind of game was this? Why had he let me kiss him, only to drop this bombshell? The air between us felt charged with tension, his presence now suffocating where it had once been alluring.

A wave of discomfort churned in the pit of my stomach. The shock of Jack's revelation made my body react violently to the alcohol, but I fought hard to suppress it, clinging to some semblance of control.

"Ex-fiancé," I managed to say, my voice weak but laced with bitterness.

Jack's expression shifted, genuine surprise flickering across his features. It was as if he hadn't expected to hear those words.

"You two broke up already?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could find the right words, nausea surged through me. I lost control, vomiting as shock, disappointment, and too much alcohol all collided in a humiliating display.

"That's enough alcohol for the night," Jack said, his voice a mix of concern and irritation as he reached out to steady me.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling the tears welling up again. "Yeah, no argument there," I muttered, utterly defeated.

Jack grabbed a napkin from the table, handed it to me, then stood up and shrugged on his jacket. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home," he offered, his tone more insistent now, as if he was used to being in control.

I shook my head, the mere thought of accepting help from him sending a fresh wave of nausea through me. "Thanks, but I'll pass," I replied, trying to sound firm despite the way my head was spinning.

Jack paused, staring at me, his expression a mix of surprise and something else-frustration, maybe? He took a step closer, his presence looming over me. "Samantha, you're not feeling well. You're drunk. At least let me make sure you get home safely."

I looked up at him, my vision swimming slightly from the alcohol and tears. There was something in his voice-an insistence, maybe even a hint of genuine concern-that made me hesitate. But then I remembered who he was.

Jack Smith wasn't just anyone; he was the city's most notorious playboy. The stories about him were infamous-whispers of countless women he'd charmed and discarded, each one just another name in his book of conquests. To him, women were nothing more than trophies, their value measured by how easily they fell for his charm. I wasn't about to become another notch on his bedpost.

"I'd rather take a cab home than let you give me a ride," I said, my voice tinged with defiance. "I've heard the stories, Jack, and I'm not going to be one of them."

He looked at me then, really looked at me, his gaze searching mine as if trying to find something deep within me that I wasn't even sure existed. His eyes, which had seemed so cold and calculating moments before, now held a flicker of something I couldn't quite place-was it disappointment? Hurt? Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant, replaced by the same enigmatic expression he'd worn since the moment we met.

"Is that what you think this is?" His voice was low, almost vulnerable. "Is that what you take me for, Samantha?"

I couldn't hold his gaze any longer. I tilted my face sideways, breaking the connection, unable to face the intensity in his eyes. My silence was answer enough.

A heavy pause hung between us, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, his tone gentle, almost resigned.

"Very well then. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Without another word, Jack picked up his car keys from the table, the metallic clink echoing in the otherwise quiet bar. He turned and walked away.

I watched him leave, my chest tight with a mix of emotions I couldn't begin to unravel. Relief, anger, confusion-all swirled together in a chaotic storm. The door swung shut behind him, and with it, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I should have felt victorious, like I'd just dodged a bullet. But as I sat there, staring at the spot where Jack had just been, I couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had just slipped through my fingers.

Just as I was trying to piece together the remnants of my sanity, my cell phone buzzed in my purse, slicing through the fog of emotions clouding my mind. I fumbled for it, my fingers trembling slightly as I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. **Lola.** My brother's girlfriend. Her name flashing on my phone usually meant casual chats or updates about Saul, but something about the timing sent a chill down my spine.

I swiped to answer, bringing the phone to my ear. "Lola?"

Her voice came through, laced with raw panic and desperation, a stark contrast to her usual calm demeanor. "Samantha, you need to come home immediately. It's Saul... he's been arrested."

Her words hit me like a freight train, knocking the breath out of me. "What? Why? What happened?"

"Louis-" she choked on his name, her voice breaking. "He accused Saul of stealing a huge amount of money from the company's account. Since he's an ex-convict, the company is taking the matter seriously and he'll be taken to court."

My world shattered in an instant. Louis. My ex-fiancé. The man who had broken my heart just hours ago was now going after my family. The betrayal was too much, too overwhelming, and for a moment, I could barely think. My brother, my only sibling, was now in serious trouble because of the man I had once loved.

"I'm coming," I managed to say, my voice trembling with barely restrained fury. I could barely process what was happening, but I knew I had to act fast. Saul needed me.

I was about to dash out of the bar when something caught my eye. Jack's phone, still on the table where he'd left it in his haste to leave. The shiny device stood out against the dimly lit bar, a piece of him that he'd forgotten. It would be so easy to just leave it there, let it become someone else's problem. But my instincts kicked in, and before I knew it, I'd grabbed the phone and shoved it into my purse.