The next day, Connor said he wanted to take Samantha out to a bar.

Samantha declined, saying she wasn't feeling well.

But he held her tightly, his voice low and soft against her ear, coaxing. "Come on, baby. After what happened at the hotel, everyone's still worried about you. Just come out, relax a little, yeah?"

Samantha stared straight into his eyes. She couldn't tell what game they were playing this time—or what kind of revenge they were planning now.

After a pause, she forced a smile. "Sure. Let's go."

At the bar, people kept coming over to toast her. Samantha accepted every glass without hesitation.

Seeing her drink so freely, everyone around her smiled in satisfaction.

"Samantha, a toast to you." Hannah Simone walked up to her, grinning, a drink in hand.

Hannah was Cathy's twin sister. They looked nearly identical. For years, she'd been by Connor's side.

Back then, Samantha had simply thought of her as a friend. But after learning the truth about Connor and his revenge, Samantha couldn't help but look at Hannah differently now.

"Alright." Samantha tipped the glass back and downed it in one go.

Suddenly, Hannah stumbled slightly, and the glass in her hand tipped forward. The drink spilled down the front of Samantha's clothes.

"Oh no! Are you okay?" Hannah asked, feigning concern.

"I'm fine." Samantha's cheeks were slightly flushed, and she rubbed her temple as if she were tipsy.

"Samantha, your clothes are soaked. You'll catch a cold like this. I'll take you upstairs to change, alright?"

Samantha glanced at Connor. He gave a small nod. "It's fine. Go ahead."

So she got up, staggering a little as Hannah helped her walk.

There were clean, private rooms upstairs in the bar. Hannah led her into one of them and said gently, "Take off your clothes first. I'll go grab something clean for you. Just wait here, okay? Don't wander."

"Mhm. Got it."

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, the hazy look in Samantha's eyes disappeared. Her gaze turned sharp.

She had taken hangover medicine in advance. The drinks they'd poured into her earlier had no effect at all.

She was playing along, just to see what they were really planning.

She pulled out her phone. Earlier, she had slipped a bug inside Connor's jacket.

Now, with a single tap, the voices of Connor and his friends came through clearly into her ear.

"Don't worry, Connor. Everything's ready. The intel's solid. Matt Wilson is coming here tonight to talk business. That room upstairs is prepped for him."

"Everyone knows Matt isn't into women. So many people tried to cozy up to him, even sent girls to his bed—he beat them half to death."

"Anyway, Samantha's not getting out of this tonight. And tomorrow morning, you'll rush in looking all panicked and worried. Show up right when she's barely hanging on. She'll love you even more after that."

Connor didn't say a word. His head hung low, face unreadable.

"But… what if he actually does something to her?" he finally asked, hesitant, after a long silence.

Just then, Hannah came back. She rested her hand on his shoulder, her voice sweet and playful. "Connor, are you actually worried about her? Everyone knows Matt's a weirdo. No matter how hot a girl is, even if she's on his bed in her birthday suit, he won't even look at her. And besides, Samantha killed Cathy. If Matt decides to take Samantha tonight, she should be thanking her lucky stars."

When Cathy's name was mentioned, something in Connor's expression hardened.

Yes. It was Samantha who killed Cathy.

Whatever happened to her now—she deserved it.

And yet… why did his chest tighten ever so slightly when he thought of her, eyes red from crying, throwing herself into his arms?

He couldn't help himself. He downed several gulps of liquor. Sweat formed on his forehead. It numbed his nerves just enough to push the thought away.

Upstairs, Matt opened the door to his room. The air was thick with the sharp scent of alcohol, laced with the faint, cloying sweetness of perfume.

He instantly became alert, his voice sharp and cold. "Get out. Now."

From under the covers, a small figure stirred. Samantha's head slowly emerged from the bedding.

She looked straight at him, lips curling into a calm, almost defiant smile. "Let's make a deal."

Matt narrowed his eyes. "What kind of deal?"

"I'll give you one million. Just let me stay here for the night. You don't have to do anything. You don't even have to say anything."

He stared at her for a long time, silently, taking in the audacity of this girl who dared to speak so boldly in front of him.

She clearly had no idea who he was.

Matt was the kind of man who never lacked money. In fact, he was the richest person in Reystein City.

But for someone to offer him one million just for a night of silence—this was a first.

Strangely, he didn't hate her for it.

Instead of flying into a rage, as he normally might, he did something completely unexpected.

He agreed.

The night passed quietly. Nothing happened between them.

The next morning, there was a knock at the door.

Connor's voice rang out anxiously from the hallway. "Samantha? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

Samantha was still in the bathroom doing… something. Matt sat on the couch, arms crossed, an amused look on his face, like he was waiting for the show to begin.

When she finally stepped out, she wore a silk slip dress. Her hair was tousled, her eyes red, as if she'd just been crying.

Faint marks—bluish-purple bruises—dotted her pale, slender neck. They looked suspiciously like… hickeys.

Matt's gaze lingered on her, curious now.

Samantha walked unhurriedly to the door and opened it.

The moment it swung open, tears streamed down her face like pearls spilling off a broken string. Without a word, she collapsed into Connor's arms.

She didn't speak. Just cried.

Connor and the people behind him froze in place, stunned by what they were seeing.

"You… how could you—" His voice cracked as he held her close, his tone filled with disbelief.

She cried like a broken doll, her tears soaking his shirt, clinging to him like a kitten that had been kicked one too many times.

"Connor… I… I… what do I do… I don't want to live anymore…"

His eyes slid past her, settling on the man still seated inside, and his gaze hardened into burning fury.

Matt exuded an oppressive stillness, a cold and eerie aura.

The friends behind Connor sensed something was off. One by one, they tugged at his sleeve, urging him to calm down.

Connor clenched his jaw, face twisted in fury. Without a word, he bent down, scooped Samantha into his arms, and walked off. His expression was like ice.

The group followed behind, lost and unsure.

Back in the room, Matt sat casually, lips curling into a faint smile. In his hand was the bank card Samantha had given him.

"Interesting," he murmured.

Samantha continued to cry.

No matter what Connor asked, she wouldn't respond.

He held her tightly, gently patting her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her—as if afraid that if he pressed even a little too hard, she might shatter.

"Samantha, I'm sorry. It's all my fault. Cheer up. You can hit me, yell at me—whatever you want, as long as it makes you feel better."

Samantha just stared at him, her eyes wide and glistening like a wounded pup.

She didn't say a word. Just sat there, looking heartbreakingly fragile.

No one else dared to speak.

It took Connor a long time to finally soothe her into sleep.

The moment he rose from the bed and gently closed the door behind him, the warmth on his face vanished completely, replaced by a biting cold.

Downstairs, he glared at the group, rage simmering behind his eyes like it might set the whole room on fire.

"What did you tell me? Wasn't this supposed to be foolproof? Didn't you say that Matt never touches women? What the hell happened?"

Everyone stood frozen, holding their breath, exchanging nervous glances but not daring to speak.

Hannah pressed her lips together in frustration and cautiously stood up, placing her hand on Connor's shoulder. "Connor…"

"Get your hand off me." He shook her off immediately.

Her hand froze awkwardly in the air. After a beat, she scratched at her hair and forced a bitter smile.

"Connor, so what if someone else slept with her? What's the big deal? You don't even really like her, right? Why are you so angry?"

Others chimed in, trying to help.

"Exactly, Connor. Don't tell us you've actually fallen for Samantha? Have you forgotten? She's the one who got Cathy killed!"

The mention of Cathy made the vein at Connor's temple twitch.

He waved a hand irritably. "Of course not. I'm just mad because this didn't go according to plan. The plan was for Samantha to get beaten. But now look at her…"

Without warning, an image flashed in his mind—Samantha, tangled in bed, helpless beneath another man's weight. His breath quickened.

"It's okay, Connor. So what if the plan failed? We still got back at her in a way. Didn't you see how hard she was crying just now? And I've still got more tricks up my sleeve." A sly grin curved Hannah's lips.

"I just—what if she can't take it? She loves me so much. What if she kills herself in a moment of despair? What if she breaks up with me? Then what?"

Even voicing the possibilities made a flicker of anxiety flash across his eyes.

A snide voice replied, "Break up with you? Come on, Connor. Samantha has no one in this world but you. If she leaves you, where would she even go?"

Only then did some of the tension in Connor's body seem to ease.

That's right. Samantha had no one left.

No family. No support. No future.

He was the only one she had.

And the best revenge? Would be to slowly become someone she couldn't live without. Then one day, toss her aside without warning. She'd be shattered. Completely.

Samantha stood quietly at the top of the stairs, hiding behind the wall.

She had heard everything. Not a single word had escaped her ears.

After a while, a smile tugged at her lips. Beautiful, but broken.

Even now—after everything—Connor still wasn't satisfied?

Her parents' ashes were scattered and lost. Her college diploma was gone. She'd nearly been thrown in jail with a criminal record.

What more did Connor want?

What kind of ending would finally satisfy his need for revenge?