Samantha stopped right in front of Alexander, eyes locked on him, her gaze sharp and unapologetic.

"As for why I went out... I don't think you'd really wanna know that, Mr. Perkins. Since you've got the skills to have me followed, I'm sure you can dig up all my secrets yourself."

Her breath was warm against his face, the faint sweetness lingering between her words. That look in her eyes-sharp and knowing-made his chest tighten with the urge to silence her lips again, forcefully.

"You better spill the truth now while you still can. Otherwise, the price you'll pay later... might be more than you can handle."

His voice dropped several degrees colder, the storm in his eyes barely restrained as he tried to pull himself back from the edge. Damn it, this woman had this ridiculous ability to rile him up-again and again.

And the worst part? She wasn't even trying to flirt. She was just provoking him.

Samantha's lips curled with a slow, mocking smile. The cherry-red color on them added an icy edge to her otherwise calm face.

"What price? Seriously, whatever it is-I'm game."

Alexander's tone, his presence that usually made people shut up and back off, was completely ineffective on her. A jolt of frustration hit him-hot and sharp.

Without thinking, he yanked her into his arms, slammed his lips against hers in a kiss completely lacking tenderness.

"Ugh-get off!"

She shoved at him hard, breaking free, and the crack of her slap echoed across the room.

"Caitlin, do you have a death wish?!"

His fury erupted, tension thick in the air as if the whole room had dipped below zero.

"You think I'm scared now?"

Her eyes were burning with something darker, deeper. "Back then, I tried so hard to play nice, to get close-and you didn't even look at me. Now that I want absolutely nothing to do with you, you come crawling back like I owe you something? Grow up, Mr. Perkins. Don't be pathetic."

She had the nerve-the actual nerve-to throw reasoning at him like he needed a moral lesson.

A dry, humorless smirk tugged at Alexander's lips. Since when did someone like him get told off by a woman?

"Alexander, I'm tired. I'm calling it a night. If you're still not done yelling or throwing tantrums, come back tomorrow, okay?"

Samantha shot him a look that could freeze over hell, her eyes skimming over the red, slap-shaped mark on his face.

"Get lost." His voice was gravel, low and rough. For the first time, he felt something weird, something like... powerless.

Samantha strolled back to her room like nothing happened. She began undressing for a shower and froze when her eyes landed on a stained piece of clothing-her sister's, blotched with black ink.

She knelt on the bed, pulling the fabric to her face, and let the memories wash over her like waves-messy, aching, and full of weight.Caitlin was the last family Samantha had in this world. They had the same blood running through their veins. If Caitlin were still alive, maybe Samantha wouldn't feel so alone all the time.

Ethan had told her that their mother passed away when Caitlin was just ten. After that, Caitlin stayed with the Warrens.

She'd known all along she had a twin sister but never had the chance to reunite because of all the mess in the Warren family.

It wasn't until she met Ethan that she begged him to get Samantha out of the orphanage and place her with a Calverian family in Farsenia to be cared for.

The money that supported Samantha's living expenses and tuition? A chunk of it came from Caitlin. She scraped by, working part-time while saving every penny she could.

Ethan mentioned that even though Caitlin wasn't short of food or clothes back then, life wasn't exactly easy for her. Just to save pocket money, she'd often skip breakfast.

In truth, Ethan became Caitlin's only rock during those years. Though, he later admitted that the first moment he saw her, he fell in love. They weren't just leaning on each other, they were in it together.

Samantha's stable life and her chance to attend the top design school in Farsenia-that was all thanks to Caitlin and Ethan.

It was just tragic that all this time, she never realized she had a blood sibling out there.

Back when she was with the foster family, she used to watch their two daughters bicker and giggle together. Even their fights were full of sweetness. Samantha would sit there, watching, so jealous it hurt.

She'd always been the odd one out, with no one to share her thoughts or secrets with.

And how cruel was fate? By the time she finally knew she had an older sister, there wasn't even a chance to say goodbye.

On the day she returned to the country, Samantha stood by Caitlin's grave. She listened in silence as Ethan told her about all the hardships Caitlin had endured-the injustice, the pain. And deep down, she made a promise: whoever hurt her sister was going to regret it.

Gently, she ran her fingers over Caitlin's favorite soft cotton-linen top, her tears spilling before she even noticed.

"Caitlin!"

The door burst open without warning-Alexander stormed in.

His chiseled face still bore the harsh red imprint of her slap.

Samantha froze. Clad in nothing but bra and panties, she gasped, too stunned to even cover herself properly.

Alexander's gaze fell on her nearly bare figure. His pupils contracted sharply.

She had the kind of figure that could shake a man's soul.

That kneeling pose, her soft curves-it practically had him swallowing hard. For a second, whatever he meant to say just vanished from his mind."Alexander, seriously? You're the big boss of Perkins Corp and you're out here spying on someone getting changed? That's pretty low, even for you."

Samantha's glare could cut glass. She snatched up her clothes and wrapped them around herself, her voice cold and sharp. "Get out."

"I'll give you one minute. Get dressed and come out," Alexander said, unfazed by her outburst. He closed the door behind him and waited outside, oddly calm. His heart, however, was in chaos.

She'd only been gone five days, but came back like a whole different person-hostile and intense. Her whole vibe had changed. It was like she'd turned into someone else... someone magnetic.

And suddenly, he couldn't look away.

Even her style had taken a sharp turn-from plain and boring to bold and eye-catching, just like he liked. Caitlin used to wear these loose, shapeless clothes that completely hid her figure. He'd never realized how stunning she really was until now. Changing her wardrobe had completely changed the way he saw her-her body, each curve, suddenly impossible to ignore.

"Alexander, barging into a woman's room? That's just pathetic." Samantha stepped out dressed in a plain sporty outfit, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. The look was simple, but on her, it worked-confident, casual, and somehow still gorgeous.

"Depends on the man," Alexander said, furrowing his brow. "Last I checked, I'm still your husband. Legally."

She let out a dry laugh. "Big ego much?"

"Let's go," he said, grabbing her hand without another word.

Samantha pulled away, standing her ground. "Why should I?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," he replied, clearly annoyed.

"Funny. I don't like being touched. And unless you tell me where we're going and why, I'm not going anywhere."

"I need you to cook a Farsenian meal. For someone important. It might be the only thing that can bring them back," he said, his tone serious.

Samantha raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You think dinner's gonna pull off a miracle?"

"I didn't believe it either. But weird things happen."

She studied him, her curiosity piqued. "So you're saying you need me?"

"Yeah." His eyes narrowed slightly, picking up on her shifting mood. He wasn't sure what game she was playing this time.

"I can do it. But we're making a deal." She gave him a slight smirk, all business.

"Name it."

Of course it wouldn't be that easy. She was barging right into negotiations. His lips curved into the faintest trace of a smile.

"From now on, unless I give you permission, don't so much as touch me. Not even my hand," Samantha said flatly.

"Deal," Alexander nodded.

"Let's go," she replied crisply.

Her flawless, stunning face didn't show a hint of satisfaction after sealing the deal. That calm, composed demeanor had Alexander once again realizing how different she was.

He'd never been a fan of overly shrewd women-once a woman becomes too calculating, it always feels superficial.

But somehow, Samantha's sharpness didn't turn him off-instead, he was intrigued.

She knew how to guard herself, knew what she wanted, and always kept him guessing. That, to him, was unexpectedly refreshing.

Alexander started the car. Samantha, in the passenger seat, was still fiddling with the seatbelt that wouldn't budge no matter how she tried to pull.

"Let me," Alexander leaned over, reaching across her to help with the seatbelt.

As he got closer, he caught that subtle scent on her again. His gaze swept past her slender shoulder, landing on her graceful neck and the delicate lines of her collarbones.

Under the amber streetlights, she looked almost unreal-flawless skin, soft features, like something out of a painting.

Suddenly, his mind dove into that memory of her soft, curvy figure, and he swallowed hard.

"I got it, thanks," Samantha took the seatbelt from him and clicked it into place herself. Her ponytail flicked as she turned her head slightly. "The person who needs the Farsenian meal-is he important to you? Your brother, maybe?"

Just as Alexander was about to sit back properly, her breath brushed against his skin-warm, sweet, leaving him gripping the steering wheel tighter, an unexpected heat stirring in him again.

Damn it. He cursed silently.

She really had a way of messing with his head without even trying.

"Yeah. You're sharp," Alexander said, forcing himself to breathe normally before stepping on the gas.

"Ah... ah..."

As soon as they stepped into the mansion, Samantha heard a low, strained cry coming from inside-like an agitated animal trapped in a cage.

Henrietta sat on the couch, clearly anxious. Doctors in white coats moved quickly through the first-floor hallway. The servants stood off to the side, silent, hands clasped, barely daring to breathe.

"Ah..."

The hoarse cry rang out again. Henrietta sprang to her feet, pacing angrily. "You useless bunch! What's wrong with Nicholas Perkins? He was perfectly fine this afternoon! What happened to him?!"

"Mom," Alexander called out, walking in with Samantha beside him.

At the sight of her, Henrietta's expression instantly turned sour. She pointed a trembling finger at Samantha, her voice thick with anger. "Alexander, why did you bring this vicious woman here? What is she doing here right now?! Get her out of here!"

"Mom, seriously? Now's not the time for this," Samantha cut in before Alexander could say anything.

Without giving Henrietta a chance to reply, she exchanged a faint smile and added with a dry tone, "So this is how the mother of the CEO of the Perkins Group handles things? Not much grace, huh?"

Henrietta was so stunned she couldn't get a word out. Her face flushed red, then pale, and her finger pointed at Samantha was trembling uncontrollably. After a moment, she barked, teeth gritted, "Mr. Wadeson! Mr. Wadeson! Get this woman out of my house!"

Mr. Wadeson stepped forward, giving Samantha a polite but firm gesture. "Madam Samantha, please."

"I invited her," Alexander interrupted coldly, and just like that, Mr. Wadeson froze, not daring to say another word.

"You invited her? Alexander, do you even know what you're doing?! You're letting her put your brother's life in danger!" Henrietta snapped. Her round face twisted with rage, her dominance clear in every word.After all, this was a woman who had stood by her husband for decades and helped build half the Perkins empire-Henrietta was definitely not someone easy to handle.

She'd always been the one calling the shots around Caitlin. Who'd have thought the daughter-in-law, long quiet and obedient, would suddenly turn around and mock her not once, but twice, even poking at the biggest family taboo no one dared to mention? Henrietta's fury toward Caitlin hadn't died down even now.

But Samantha, surprisingly, wasn't angry at all. She gave a calm, almost casual smile. "Kicking me out isn't hard. But getting me to come back? Not so easy. Mom, think it through-don't let your temper mess with Nicholas's condition."

"You think I don't know what you are? I spent fifty million to get you from the Jordan family. In this house, if I say leave-you leave!" Henrietta's voice was sharp, furious at the arrogance in Caitlin's tone.

Samantha raised an eyebrow with a look that said, "Whatever."

Standing to the side, Alexander suddenly said coldly, "That Farsenian dish Nicholas had today? She made it."

Henrietta froze. It took her a while to come up with a response. "Caitlin, how heartless can you be? Are you trying to kill your uncle for the family inheritance? Poisoning Sterling? Is this some scheme from the Jordan Group?"

"Alexander said it's been five years since Nicholas spoke. He's been totally shut off-like a living corpse. But after eating what I made, he made a sound. Ever think that maybe he's trying to connect again?"

Samantha rolled her eyes, scoffing, "So yeah, you can be mad, but don't lose your head. This could be a real chance."

Henrietta stared at her son, dumbfounded.

Alexander didn't miss a beat. "What Caitlin said, I agree. Mom, take a break-I'll have her start cooking."

"Where's the kitchen?" Samantha shot him a look and asked without much emotion.

"I'll show you," said Alexander.

The two of them acted in sync, completely brushing past Henrietta, who was still frozen on the couch, and headed to the kitchen together.

Considering the limited time and what Alexander had told her, Samantha decided to make a steak. As the sauce she had specially prepared sizzled over the hot steak, the kitchen filled with a mouthwatering aroma.

She carefully carried the plate, weaving through the busy doctors and nurses, and stepped into a dimly lit room.

The delicious smell stopped everyone in their tracks.

She finally saw him-a tall, gaunt man curled up in a corner, staring blankly ahead.

That was Nicholas Perkins? He looked completely hollowed out. What the hell had he been through?

With a mix of pity and concern, Samantha walked toward him.

He looked quite a bit like Alexander, though the features on his face were softer, nowhere near the sharp edges of Alexander's.

But Nicholas just sat there lifelessly, eyes dull. If not for the hoarse, low growls coming from his lips, one might easily think he was just a statue.

Samantha slowly crouched down, placing the fragrant plate of food in front of him with the gentlest of gazes.

She reached out, gently brushing his hair like comforting a child, and smiled softly. Her voice was soothing, calm. "Wanna eat something?"

Maybe it was the smell of food, or maybe something in her gentle voice got to him-Nicholas stopped making noise, his head turned stiffly, and his vacant eyes locked onto the steak she held.

Alexander, standing behind Samantha, stared in surprise.

Right now, Caitlin, usually so guarded, suddenly unfolded into someone unbelievably gentle. It was like watching a prickly hedgehog slowly roll over and reveal a soft, vulnerable underbelly.

That damn tenderness.

Alexander's brow twitched slightly, something stirring inside him that didn't feel so great.

Nicholas's gaze slowly drifted from the food to Samantha's face. His eyes, usually lifeless, suddenly flickered. Then, out of nowhere, he let out a gut-wrenching shriek and lunged forward, throwing his arms tightly around Caitlin.

"Ah... ah..." he screamed wildly like he was breaking apart.

The sudden move totally knocked Alexander off guard. He moved too late to stop anything-what if he hurt her?

Damn it. Why the hell was he so worried about Caitlin at a time like this?

Just after the shouting fit, Nicholas suddenly bit down-hard-on Samantha's shoulder.

"Nick! Don't!" Alexander growled, yanking Samantha's arm, desperate to pull her out of his brother's grip.

"Don't move!" Samantha snapped lowly, shifting her arm under Nicholas's and wrapping him in a tight embrace. Her voice was soft and calm, smooth like silk, as she tried to soothe him down. "It's okay now... You're alright... I'm here, no matter what happened. Don't be scared, okay?"

Nicholas's dried-out eyes quickly glazed with tears. The bite on her shoulder loosened.

"It's all over. Let the past go, alright?" Her voice was like a gentle lullaby, slipping into everyone's ears like a quiet spell. "I won't leave you... Just hold on to that."

Nicholas twitched, and suddenly tears burst out of him like a dam broke.

Samantha kept whispering by his ear, her voice hypnotic-"You're not alone, okay? Mom's with you... your brother's here... I'm here..."

Her voice was ridiculously beautiful-soft like a feather brushing your cheek. The simple words, spoken so casually, struck right at everyone's core.

Even Alexander wasn't immune. He never thought a woman's voice could sound that good, like it was melting into his heart and taking over.

"Ah..." Nicholas let out a final cry. His arms clutched Samantha even tighter, like he wanted to cram her right into his body.

Jealousy flitted across Alexander's eyes for a split second. Dammit, this woman... she'd messed with his head more than once today. And now what? He was... jealous?

Nicholas held on tightly until he finally passed out, but even then, he refused to let go of Samantha's hand. His mouth moved as though trying to speak, but the years of isolation had broken his ability to talk. All he could let out was one long, agonized sound, eyes filled with helpless pain locked on hers."Don't say anything now. I know everything. Just go to sleep. I'll stay right here with you."

Samantha gently held Nicholas's bony hand with both of hers, soft and boneless like velvet. A light smile curved her lips, softening her already perfect features with an almost angelic warmth.

Alexander stood nearby, eyes fixed on her serene profile. In that moment, the urge to pull her into his arms just like his brother had done hit him like a wave.

Damn it.

They had just made that ridiculous agreement before coming to this house.

Without her consent, he wasn't even allowed to touch her-not even her hand.

His lips curled up into a cold sneer.

He was the CEO of the mighty Perkins Group, and he needed her permission to touch his own wife? What a joke.

That dumb agreement-there's no way she'd actually stop him from getting close.

And then, reality slapped him square in the face.

Nicholas had finally fallen into a deep sleep. Samantha, who had been kneeling by the bed for too long, tried to stand but staggered slightly as pins and needles hit her legs. She gripped the edge of the bed for support.

Alexander reached out instinctively to help her, but she sidestepped him like it was nothing.

"Mr. Perkins, don't tell me you're trying to weasel out of the terms already," she said, her voice flat, a flicker of mockery in her gaze.

His hand froze in mid-air, and suddenly the whole room felt awkward.

Even the house staff who had quietly gathered to peek in seemed to catch on-something felt off between Alexander and his wife.

They looked picture-perfect, sure, but the vibe? Definitely not harmonious.

Mrs. Perkins had a cocky edge to her, and she didn't even bother sparing Alexander a sliver of respect in front of everyone.

Rumor had it Alexander wasn't into women. Judging by how Mrs. Perkins treated him, maybe that gossip wasn't so far off. I mean, if he wasn't avoiding intimacy, why would a woman turn her nose up at such a rich and handsome husband?

Proves it yet again-good men are usually taken... by other men.

People in the room started throwing each other knowing looks, eyebrows raised.

Alexander's eyes turned darker. "Nurse," he said coolly, "can you tend to her shoulder?"

Like hell he cared-he wouldn't have even looked at her if his brother hadn't bitten her like that.

A deep bite mark, still bleeding, marred her smooth white skin. It made him feel strangely uncomfortable.

He hadn't even touched that shoulder himself.

By the time she got back to the villa, it was already 3 a.m. Samantha looked exhausted.

She hadn't eaten much at dinner, and her stomach had been growling for hours now. The second she walked in, she headed straight for the kitchen. She remembered spotting a box of frozen fish fillets and a bag of fries in the freezer earlier-nothing fancy, but perfect for a late-night snack before bed.

Samantha threw the fish and chips into the air fryer, then drizzled a generous amount of malt vinegar over them as soon as they came out-hot, crispy, and golden. The sharp, tangy smell of vinegar immediately filled the kitchen air, mingling with the savory scent of fried batter.

Holding the plate as she stepped out, she was startled to see Mr. Carson standing at the doorway, looking at her like she'd just committed a crime.

Biting into a chip with zero shame, Samantha shot him a glance and said flatly, "Something wrong?"

"Ma'am..." Mr. Carson looked uneasy and hesitant, clearly struggling with what to say.

This wasn't the same Madame Caitlin he used to know-the one people could ignore or walk all over. Even Mr. Alexander couldn't win when he clashed with her, and here he was just a butler. One mistake, and he could be packing his bags.

"Spit it out." Samantha strolled to the dining table, plopped down, and started digging into her food.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but do you... remember? Sir has a strong aversion to overly fragrant foods... and the vinegar you're using has a particularly sharp scent.."

"And what's that got to do with me? I'm eating it, not him." She didn't even look up, just kept eating, vinegar-soaked fries disappearing one by one.

Mr. Carson broke into a cold sweat. He barely got the words out, "It's just that... Sir really can't stand the smell. He says it lingers for hours. Especially in the curtains."

"Control freak," Samantha muttered, waving him off like he was a pop-up ad. "He's sleeping, right? He won't know. That stupid rule is on pause for now."

So what if he didn't like the smell? That didn't mean the rest of the house had to suffer. How ridiculous was that?

Mr. Carson's lips twitched. Great. Both of them were nightmares to deal with. He really couldn't afford to upset either one.

Watching her shamelessly munch on her forbidden fish and chips, he awkwardly stood off to the side, silently begging her to please hurry up and head upstairs so he could open every window and spray the place down before Alexander came down.

"Hey, Mr. Carson!" Alexander's voice came unexpectedly, casual but chilly.

Mr. Carson froze, heart dropping. He looked up to see Alexander leaning lazily against the upstairs railing, in his silk robe, eyes fixed directly on him.

"S-Sir! I-I'll open the windows right away." Mr. Carson stammered, wiping sweat from his brow like he'd just been caught in the act.

Alexander waved a hand impatiently. "I'm hungry. Make me a plate too."

"Yes, sir!" Mr. Carson responded by habit, but then his eyes widened like someone had smacked him in the face. "Wait, you mean. fish and chips?"

"What else would I mean?" Alexander replied in his usual deadpan tone, but there was a distinct chill in his eyes that made Mr. Carson want to disappear.

"Of course! Right away!" Mr. Carson nodded quickly, expression darkening like a storm cloud.

Really, sir? Could you not? I literally just reminded ma'am that you hate the smell! And now you're asking me to make it like it's no big deal?

Dealing with one moody boss was already exhausting. Now add a vinegar-loving wife into the mix? This job was going to be the end of him.