Chapter 3

The newly established entertainment company under the Everett Group produced a dark horse.

A young actress in her twenties. Her name I didn't catch, but she was quite good-looking. My friend said she kind of resembled me.

I nearly choked on my coffee at the thought.

"Well, that was fine until you said that. You might have ruined her future."

"You and Samuel are still at odds, huh?"

"When have we ever reconciled?"

She sighed, clearly helpless.

That evening, the butler told me Samuel wouldn't be back for dinner. I was thrilled and ate two large bowls of food, still not satisfied before heading upstairs.

In the middle of the night, Samuel stumbled into my room. He must have been drunk. I could smell the alcohol on him.

Annoyed, I pulled the blanket tighter and told him to get lost.

After a while, when no sound came from beside me, I turned around to find he had actually left.

It was strange. He actually followed what I said.

The next day, the butler informed me Samuel was sick, with a high fever. I was focused on painting my nails.

"Get a doctor if he's sick. What do you want me to do about it? I'm not a doctor."

I wasn't concerned about his well-being. I still went out to find some fun.

A week later, he returned from the hospital. They say people look a little more haggard after getting sick, but he didn't look any different. His complexion was still perfect, his gaze still cold.

He saw me painting and scoffed, "You have no artistic talent in your genes, so stop pretending to be sophisticated. It's just a waste of time."

"You're right, I am wasting time. Who told the bar to be closed during the day?"

"You go to bars often?"

This time, it was my turn to scoff. I put down my brush and turned to look at him.

"Aren't you the one who sends people to follow me every day? How come you didn't know I go to bars? Your employees are terrible. You should fire them."

He was holding a cup of coffee, but with the other hand, he pulled out his phone and actually fired someone.

I continued painting, satisfied.

That evening, I wore a very revealing dress and went to the most chaotic bar, the kind where you could find all sorts of shady characters.

I found the most conspicuous spot and sat down.

It didn't take long before a thug came over to strike up a conversation.

His outfit was hard to describe, but I didn't mind. I happily drank with him, one cup after another.

Then, I dizzily stumbled into his arms.

He happily held me, one arm around me while he pulled out some loose change to pay.

Afterward, he led me to a small alley behind the bar. My feet slipped, and I nearly fell a few times, but he kept lifting me up.

"Handsome... Where are we going?"

"Of course, to the next round."

I grinned foolishly and cheered, "Next round, yay!"

He put me against a wall. My vision blurred, and I looked up at him.

He started undressing, but clearly, the quality wasn't great. His zipper got stuck, and he was so impatient that he tore it open.

I winced as if feeling sorry for him.

"Your clothes are broken."

"Clothes are nothing compared to you. It's fine!"

He lunged at me. I stared at the streetlight above, my mind calm.

Suddenly, the man stopped moving. I instinctively glanced to the side.

My heart sank.

Samuel strode over, his bodyguards pulling the unconscious man away.

I sat against the wall, watching him.

"You really know how to ruin my fun."

My self-destructive demeanor infuriated him.

He violently yanked me up, and I struggled, hitting him with my hands and feet.

"Let go! Damn it, let me go!"

My hair had come undone, and the straps of my dress were nearly falling off, exposing a large part of my shoulder.

Samuel took off his suit jacket and draped it over me, his gaze sharp.

"You're the daughter of the Everett Group. Don't be like your mother!"

I slapped him across the face.

"Samuel, didn't I tell you never to mention my mother again?"

I slapped him with all my strength, and his head jerked to the side.

He touched the side of his face where I had slapped him and suddenly smiled.

Then, with a quick motion, he slapped me back.

My balance faltered, and I stumbled backward, crashing into a trash can before falling to the ground.

How the hell did this bastard grow up? He really had some strength. He hit me so hard that I couldn't get back up.