You’re a gutter rat

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• Revenge After Divorce: Ex-Husband Regret    I don't trust you

  —Samantha’s POV—My women in the large hall wanted to mingle with me or strike a conversation but I didnt give them any face. Those women in the elite circles were nothing more than snakes with fake smiles. And as for the men trying to catch my attention, I didn't spare a single glance. I know how the world works, when your rich and have something potential to offer, people flock around you. But when you're poor or having nothing, people look down on you like dirt. Of course, I was once in that shoe. The balcony air was cool, brushing my skin as I leaned against the marble railing. The city sparkled below, its lights like a puzzle I was still solving. I held Dalton’s note, my heart racing. “Meet me on the balcony. We need to talk. – D.” I came to get answers, not to play his games. I was Alice now, and I’d keep him at arm’s length.Dalton stepped out, his black tux sharp, his amber eyes shining. He looked too good, and it made me mad. “You showed up,” he said, his voice low, a sly

• Revenge After Divorce: Ex-Husband Regret    A dare

  – Samantha’s POV—The Crystal Hall’s lights sparkled like stars, the chandeliers casting gold across the marble dance floor. The crowd’s murmurs faded as the string quartet’s music swelled, slow and romantic, pulling every eye to Dalton and me. His hand was firm on my waist, his other hand holding mine, his grip strong but warm. My silver gown shimmered, the slit flashing my leg with every step, and I felt the room’s gaze—some awed, some jealous. I danced with a cold face, but Dalton’s touch sent a shiver through me I couldn’t ignore. I hated it.“You can’t run now,” Dalton whispered, his voice low, his green eyes locked on mine. His tuxedo hugged his broad shoulders, his dark hair falling just right. He was too handsome, too close, and it made my heart race.I tilted my chin, my voice cold. “I’m not running,” I said. “But don’t think this means anything, Dalton.”He smirked, pulling me closer as we moved with the music, our steps smooth like we’d danced a hundred times before. “Y

• Revenge After Divorce: Ex-Husband Regret    Dance Floor

  – Samantha’s POV —Soon, night arrived and darkened blanketed the whole city. Inside the villa, the bed room was buzzing, the air thick with the smell of perfume and hairspray. I sat on a plush stool, my silver own shimmering under the chandelier’s light. The dress hugged my curves, its deep neckline bold, the high slit showing just enough leg to scream elegance. Maryjane stood behind Grace, brushing shimmery eyeshadow on her lids, her curls bouncing as she worked. Grace, in her teal gown, sat still, her sharp bob sleek, her tablet forgotten for once.“Hold still, Grace,” Maryjane said, laughing. “You want to look like a queen, not a raccoon.”Grace rolled her eyes but grinned. “You’re enjoying this too much, MJ. Don’t make me look like a clown.”“Never,” MJ said, winking. “You’re gonna steal the show at that gala. Well, after Sam, of course.”I smiled, my heart racing with nerves and excitement. The gala was tonight, Dalton’s invitation burning a hole in my purse. I’d face him, Zeke

• Revenge After Divorce: Ex-Husband Regret    Shopping Day

  – Samantha’s POV —The morning sun poured into my bedroom, warming the soft rugs under my feet. I stood in front of the mirror, my fingers tracing the scar on my temple. The wound from the attack was healed, the bandage gone, leaving just a faint pink line. My arm was better too, the cuts now small marks under my skin. I was tough, just like I’d told Amore. But the scar reminded me of that night—the black sedans, the gunfire, Dalton’s hands pulling me out. I pushed the thought away. Today was about the gala. If I had my choice, I wouldn't go but because he's now my savior, I have to honor his invitation. Maryjane honked outside, her red SUV idling in front of the villa. I grabbed my purse, slipped on sunglasses, and headed out, my white sneakers soft on the gravel. MJ was in the driver’s seat, her curly hair wild, her grin big. “Ready to slay that gala, Sam?” she asked, turning down the radio.“Always,” I said, sliding in. “I need a dress that screams volume. Let’s hit Vivienne’s.”

• Revenge After Divorce: Ex-Husband Regret    The invitation

  – Samantha’s POV—The hospital room felt like a cage, all white walls and beeping machines. It was Sunday, and I was done with it. My head still ached, the bandages on my arm itchy, but I was healing fast. The doctors wanted me to stay another day, their faces all serious, but I wasn’t listening. I missed Amore too much—her bright eyes, her giggles, her little arms around me. Every second away from her hurt worse than the cuts on my skin. I was getting out today, no matter what.The door swung open, and Maryjane burst in, her curly hair bouncing, her smile wide. She held a stack of papers, her jeans and bright yellow top a splash of color in the sterile room. “Sam, I got the discharge papers,” she said, waving them like a prize. “Told those doctors you’re too stubborn to stay.”I laughed, the sound weak but real. “Thanks, MJ. You’re a lifesaver.” I swung my legs off the bed, wincing as my head throbbed. My black sweatshirt and jeans were folded on a chair, and I changed quickly, eager

• Revenge After Divorce: Ex-Husband Regret    I would protect them both

  – Dalton’s POV— The sun ray scorched as I sped toward my secret penthouse, my hands tight on the Bentley’s wheel. Samantha’s face haunted me—her pale skin, the blood on her temple, the bandages wrapping her arm in that hospital bed. My jaw clenched, fury burning in my chest. Someone had tried to kill her, shot at her car, left her bleeding and scared. The thought of her crumpled in that wrecked Mercedes made my blood boil. Whoever did this would pay. I’d make sure of it! I weaved through traffic, my mind replaying her voice in the hospital. “How’d you know?” she’d asked, her green eyes sharp with suspicion. I hadn’t told her the truth—that I’d been tailing her, keeping tabs through my network, ever since I learned she was back as McQueen. I couldn’t tell her it was for Amore, for her, because I couldn’t let her slip away again. But those black sedans, the gunfire—they weren’t random. Someone wanted her dead, and I needed answers.The penthouse loomed ahead, a sleek black tower hidd