Chapter Four

"You’ll never be her."

The words resounded in my head like a curse, slicing deeper with every repetition. I wasn’t sure if it was the wind that made me shiver or the truth that had finally sunk in. My fingers trembled as I pushed through the mansion’s heavy doors, my heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.

David was still at the graveyard, kneeling and still grieving. But not for me. “Why would he?” The demon in my head talked again. “You guys literally just met, and you know the marriage was just to save yourself.”

“I fucking know…I do, but not to the extent that I will never matter to him. He will never really see me.” I responded loudly to my demon as a bitter laugh bubbled up my throat, but I swallowed it down. I wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not now.

I needed to leave.

Gripping my phone, I scrolled to the only person I could trust—Ella.

"Where are you?"

I hit send, my pulse racing as I made my way toward the garage. If David could lose himself in his past, then I had every right to lose myself too—even if just for today.

"Madam, where are you going?" The voice behind me was familiar, cautious. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

"Ann, just focus on something else in the house, except me." My voice was steady, but my grip on my phone tightened.

"But—"

"Ann." I cut her off, finally turning to meet her gaze, my own eyes hard. "Do you want to get in trouble with me?"

She hesitated before lowering her head slightly. "I’m sorry, ma. But if you’re going out, it can’t be in that. The boss will frown at it."

It was only then that I glanced down and realized—I was still in sportswear. A sigh slipped past my lips.

"Yeah," I muttered, turning back toward my room. Ann followed closely, clinging to me like a parasite.

"I think the boss is back inside," she added, her voice laced with warning. "I saw him leave the garden earlier."

I kept walking, my heart a battlefield of emotions I refused to acknowledge. "I don’t care," I said, but the words felt hollow. Because deep down, I knew I did.

“Samantha Cander.”

David’s voice sliced through the air the moment I stepped inside. His tone was firm, commanding—so different from the broken man I’d left at Kimberly’s grave.

“You don’t get to defy me every time I speak,” he continued, his sharp gaze fixed on me. “I told you to exercise, yet my men reported you didn’t do a damn thing.”

I kept walking, ignoring him.

“You better stop right there!” he barked, his voice laced with authority.

I halted. Not because I was afraid, but because I was exhausted—of him, of this house, of feeling like I didn’t belong.

Slowly, I turned to face him. His gym clothes clung to his frame, his expression hard, unreadable. The softness he had at the graveyard was gone, replaced by the cold, controlling man I had married for all the wrong reasons.

I met his gaze head-on. “David Smith, I’m an adult, not a puppet you can control at will. I am not here to dance to your every order, and I sure as hell won’t be treated like a prisoner in this house. If you want sanity between us, you need to learn respect.”

A sudden flicker of shock flashed in his eyes, too quick to be certain but impossible to ignore. His men also exchanged glances, clearly stunned that I had dared to speak back to him. For a moment, the tension between us was heavy and suffocating, hanging in the air like a storm about to break. Then David let out a sharp breath, and just like that, his expression returned to its usual unreadable calm.

“You’re coming to work with me,” he said, as if my outburst hadn’t happened. “Starting today, you’ll manage operations at my company. You’re not going to sit around here doing nothing.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away, his men trailing after him.

I stood frozen, my pulse roaring in my ears.

He hadn’t argued. He hadn’t lashed out.

He had simply decided.

And maybe that scared me more than anything.

“Ma’am,”

Ann’s voice cut through my thoughts, dragging me back to reality. I blinked, my pulse still uneven from David’s sudden decree.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, her tone careful but filled with meaning. She didn’t have to spell it out—David had spoken, and in this house, his word was final.

Frustration flared inside me. It wasn’t just Ann questioning me; it felt like everyone around me was waiting for me to bend, to fall in line without question.

“You don’t need to ask me that,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. I turned away from her and walked to my room, unwilling to entertain another conversation about what David wanted.

I stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away the lingering tension in my body. After dressing, I prepared to leave, determined to meet Ella as planned. David could issue all the commands he wanted, but he didn’t control me.

Even as I grabbed my things, a small wave of unease crept in. Going out meant facing the world beyond these suffocating walls, exposing myself to the evil awaiting me outside. But I shoved the doubt aside. Ella would be with me, and for today, that was enough.

The ride to Eden Lounge wasn’t long at all. Ella had texted me back, telling me to meet her there, and I had immediately grabbed a key from David’s collection. I chose a car that was minimalistic—sleek but not flashy. The last thing I needed was more attention, not with the scandals still clinging to me like a second skin.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I could already hear the faint thrum of music pulsing from inside the lounge. The neon lights bathed the building in a hazy glow, and through the large glass windows, I could see clusters of people chatting, laughing, sipping on colorful cocktails. It was a lively scene, one that almost made me forget the weight I carried on my shoulders.

Almost.

Pushing through the entrance, my eyes immediately found Ella. She was seated in a booth near the back, waving her arms dramatically to get my attention. A grin stretched across her lips, and as I approached, she practically bounced in her seat.

“Oh my God, look who finally decided to crawl out of her castle!” Ella beamed, dragging me into a tight hug the second I was close enough. “Girl, I was starting to think you’d been locked in a tower somewhere, waiting for a prince to come save you.”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head as I slid into the booth across from her. “Trust me, Ella, there’s no prince in that house. Just a king who thinks he owns the whole damn world.”

Ella’s brows shot up, her interest piqued. “Ooooh, now that’s what I call an opening line. Spill. All of it. I want the full, unedited, uncensored version in person.”

Before I could even respond, a waiter approached our table, flashing us a polite smile. “Ladies, what can I get you?”

Ella didn’t even glance at the menu. “Two tequila sunrises, extra strong.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We’re starting with tequila?”

“We have a lot to discuss, Sam. And I have a feeling I’ll need alcohol to process whatever the hell you’ve been dealing with.”

I sighed, relenting. “Fine. Tequila it is.”

As the waiter left, Ella leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “Now, tell me everything. How’s life as Mrs. David Smith? Or should I ask, how’s life in captivity?”

I hesitated for a moment, swirling the condensation on my glass once the drinks arrived. Then, I let it all out—David at the graveyard, Kimberly, his mood swings, his insane demands, the way he acted like I was some piece of property to be controlled. I told her about Ann trying to stop me, about how David had ordered me to work at his company like I was a damn employee rather than his wife.

Ella listened intently, occasionally gasping or shaking her head in disbelief. “Wow. Just wow. So, let me get this straight—he tells you what to do, when to do it, and where to do it. And then what, expects you to thank him for it?”

“Pretty much,” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink.

Ella scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I hate men.”

I chuckled, but the moment was short-lived. A strange hush had settled over a portion of the lounge, and I could feel eyes on me. I turned slightly, noticing a group of women seated a few tables away, their heads close together as they whispered and threw pointed glances in my direction. One of them actually had the nerve to pull out her phone and snap a picture, not even bothering to hide it.

“She’s not even that pretty,” one of them muttered loud enough for me to hear. “I still don’t get how she seduced David Smith.”

A sharp pang of irritation shot through me. I knew the scandal was still fresh in people’s minds—the leaked video, the humiliation, the endless speculation. And now, being married to David? It only added fuel to the fire.

Ella, however, wasn’t having it.

“Excuse me,” she called out sweetly, flashing them a saccharine smile. “I couldn’t help but overhear your pathetic little gossip session. If you’re gonna be jealous, at least be creative about it.”

The women huffed, rolling their eyes before turning away, but I knew the whispers would continue.

Ella turned back to me with a smirk. “Ignore them. They wish they were you.”

“Trust me, they don’t.”

The drinks kept coming, the conversation flowing. The lounge grew busier, the atmosphere buzzing with energy, but deep down, I knew the night couldn’t last forever. Eventually, I’d have to go back to that house. Back to David.

Ella must have sensed my reluctance because she suddenly clapped her hands together. “I have an idea.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Should I be worried?”

“Absolutely not. But hear me out—let’s go clubbing.”

I blinked. “Clubbing?”

“Yes! You’re clearly dreading going back, and honestly, I don’t blame you. So let’s make the night count. Dance, drink, and pretend we don’t have responsibilities for a few hours. What do you say?”

A part of me hesitated. But another part—the part that was tired of feeling caged—leaned into the idea. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The club was a whirlwind of flashing lights and pulsing music, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. Bodies moved in sync with the heavy bass, laughter and chatter blending into the chaos.

We barely made it to the bar before the first wave of unwanted attention arrived. Men circled like vultures, their gazes heavy, their smirks laced with entitlement. It wasn’t long before one of them—tall, broad, and reeking of arrogance—sidled up next to me.

“Aren’t you the one from that video?” he asked, smirking.

I stiffened. Ella’s grip on her glass tightened.

“Bet she’s even better in person,” another voice chimed in, this one from behind me. A third man chuckled. “David Smith must like his women experienced.”

The anger boiled up so fast I barely had time to think. “Say that again,” I dared, turning to face them fully.

They grinned, clearly enjoying the reaction.

Ella was already standing, ready to throw hands, but before things could escalate further, my phone vibrated against my palm.

David.

“Why the hell are you in a club?”

“Do you not see your pictures trending again?”

“Have you forgotten who you married?” The text continued entering, which made panic settle in my gut. He was right. I was only making things worse for myself. For him.

“I need to go,” I muttered to Ella, already stepping away. But then—I stopped.

A figure blocked my path, his presence as familiar as anything.

Vincent.

My heart slammed against my ribs, my breath catching in my throat.

“What the hell!”