Chapter 6

Samantha’s betrayal shattered whatever truth I once held about her, forcing me to hunt for facts in the dark shadows. When Carson claimed she was battling an illness, I dispatched Scarlet to uncover the real story.

​Scarlet confirmed that Sam had indeed checked into St. Luke's Hospital. I almost believed the tragic illness narrative, until Scarlet revealed that Sam slipped out every single night to paint the town red at various vibrant nightclubs. How could someone gamble with their health so recklessly like that? I needed to witness this outrageous charade with my own eyes.

​Now I stood inside the moody velvet ambiance of the Butterfly Night Club, an exclusive haven catering to the city's wealthy elites. The warm plush lighting and soft bass offered comfort, yet I remained entirely cold to its seductive charms, driven by a far darker purpose.

​Scarlet's intel proved dead accurate because Sam sat under the neon lights right here. A daring white party dress clung to her figure while she flirted relentlessly with every passing wealthy gentleman. Before long, she glided gracefully onto the center of the pulsating dance floor, swaying lost in the heavy rhythm.

​No dying woman moves like that, I whispered beneath my breath.

​I marched straight into the thick crowd toward her. She remained completely oblivious to my shadow until I deliberately shoved her with my sharp elbow.

"​What the fuck? Can you not see where you are going, lady? The entire floor is open, yet you choose to shove your way right into my personal space!"

"​How is your failing heart holding up?"

​Her frantic hips instantly froze mid-beat. The constantly shifting neon beams masked my face at first, but the sharp icy tone of my voice cut through the noise, instantly shattering her comfortable disguise.

​L—Lora? she stammered out, her jaw dropping open.

"No one else, Sam. It is indeed me, Lora."

​"What are you doing here? Do not tell me you are following me? Why? You likely want to copy the life I possess, right? Well, you cannot duplicate a woman like me," she uttered, overflowing with self-admiration, though the corners of her eyes betrayed a faint tremor of anxiety.

​A serene smile touched my lips, keeping my composure intact, fitting the long, slender off-shoulder dress I wore yielded a slit that exposed my thigh up to the middle.

​"Did you truly believe I wished to imitate or duplicate you, Sam?"

​"Do not play your games with me, Lora. I know you are tailing me."

​A subtle movement passed through my shoulders. My gaze drifted toward her revealing neckline, where her chest threatened to spill out, and my head shook slowly.

​"Sam, I am human just like you. I require a nightlife, even if only occasionally. And should you think I am tailing you, I shall tell you myself that you are mistaken."

​"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes in clear irritation.

​"Am I truly the one you deem pathetic when you are the very person who stole a husband, the one who wept because your proud fiancé lost the auction bidding, and the one who sent him to my office to force him to take the Golden Heart of Paradise from my hands?" My left eyebrow arched of its own accord. "Tell me now that I am pathetic, Samantha Hayes. Ah, by the way, I do not make a habit of faking a heart condition merely to elicit pity from my fiancé."

​"My heart condition is real, Lora!"

​A brief, caustic laugh escaped my throat.

​"Your defensiveness is rather transparent, Sam. Next time, study how people with genuine heart conditions actually move and behave."

​"Lora Vance!"

​"Or perhaps you wish to acquire a true heart condition at last. How unfortunate that would be, considering hell lacks air conditioning," I remarked, letting another dry chuckle slip.

​"You stupid bitch!"

​Shaking my head once more, I turned away and left her standing motionless on the dancefloor. Returning to my former seat, I raised the glass of champagne directly to my lips. A slow sip followed, soothing the fierce tempest racing within my chest at the mere presence of Sam.

My throat burned with an unquenchable fire. Champagne flowed like essential water, every emptied glass leaving me desperate for the next drop.

​"Beautiful, are you alone tonight? Mind if I join you?"

​I swallowed hard. Before any consent escaped my lips, the stranger claimed the seat. I scanned his sharp features, distrust prickling beneath his heavy gaze.

​"What is your name? No friends around? Why sit alone?"

​"Why so many questions? You were allowed to sit, yet you chatted endlessly?"

​"Oh, I adore beautiful, wild flowers. By the way, I am Klint. I noticed you earlier and wanted your company."

​My eyes narrowed at him. "What could I possibly gain from befriending someone like you?" I asked.

​He leaned back, lacing his fingers together across the table. "I am kind. I excel at warm conversation and easing heavy hearts."

​An unexpected laugh burst from my chest at his smooth words. Stories flowed freely from his mouth. He spoke of his family business producing high class jewelry, and finding our worlds overlapping softened my initial guard.

​He was a genuinely captivating company. Wit laced his spoken thoughts, blending light humor with striking depth.

​Midway through our chatting, a sudden pressure in my bladder demanded attention.

​"Klint, excuse me to the restroom," I announced.

​"Sure. No problem. I will wait here, or perhaps you want me escorting you outside?"

​"I can manage, do not worry."

​I pushed up. Alcohol weighed heavily on my footing, causing a stumble before my hand caught the chair back.

​"You sure you can manage?"

​A quick nod served as my answer while I navigated toward the ladies room. Standing before the mirror afterward, glassy eyes stared back beside flushed, glowing cheeks. A soft smile crossed my lips as I drew a deep breath, stepping back into the lounge.

​Seriously? He actually waited for me?

​"Drained some liquid from your system, I assume? Time to replenish!" he grinned as I settled in.

​His open palm gestured toward my waiting glass, freshly filled to the brim.

​I smiled, choosing silence over words. Reaching out, I tipped the goblet back and drained every single droplet.

​Seconds ticked by before a violent dizziness slammed into my brain, scorching heat racing through my veins.

​"W—What is happening?" I gasped.

​Klint slid into the space right beside me. Looking up, I caught the sinister smirk spreading across his face. Through the spinning fog, realization struck regarding the champagne prepared during my brief absence.

​"What did you d—do, Klint? What did you slip into my glass?" I pleaded through gathering tears.

​His arm locked around my waist, pulling my body flush against his chest. Warm lips grazed the sensitive skin behind my ear. Resistance failed me entirely. Surprisingly, a treacherous surge made me crave his close touch.

​My mind screamed to shove him away, yet raw passion pulsing through every vein paralyzed my strength.

​"I simply did what was necessary, Baby. I refused to leave without tasting those captivating lips and experiencing a body so pristine."

​"W—What?"

​"Oh, silly beautiful flower. I merely added a potent substance pushing you to embrace everything I plan on doing to you in bed tonight," he whispered.

​Fear spilled over my cheeks in hot tears. I craved escaping Klint's tight grip, but weakness anchored me down while his fingers tracing my waist kindled an embarrassing, overwhelming desire for more.

"L—Let go of m—me."

"Stop fighting against your flesh's will, Baby."

​Shit, I was drugged.