CHAPTER 006: SAMANTHA’S POV

The gadget in my hand, I dropped onto the bed. The softness of the sheets to my skin, I shut my eyes for a while, this felt like... Luxury, it was luxury indeed.

The resounding puh-puh from the phone jerked me back into reality,

“Girl! How’s the palace? You in yet? Spill!” Sara's voice jerked me up. My butt on the edge of the bed.

Where do I start from? The house? Or the man?

I laughed, but it came out wobbly, Sara knew me too well.

“What is it, Sammy?” “What's that fake laugh about? I hope that lady didn't disrespect you in any way.” I could feel her pulse, one person that would fight the world for me.

The opposite of me, or rather, someone I admired for her strength, never lets anyone intimidate her, or me.

“Sara… you’re not gonna believe this.” My voice cracked.

“Try me… Those rich folks,” she's always been sensitive around them, her father was one, but that never meant a thing to her.

I took a deep breath. “Marcus is here.”

Silence. Then a sharp inhale. “What?!”

“He opened the door. Shirtless. In boxers. Like he lives here, you need to have seen him .”

“Shut up. No. No way. He should be in Texas, or are you in Texas?” Sara's voice went high.

“Yes way, Sara. He’s Victoria’s boyfriend. Or whatever. He’s living in this house, he's been lying to me all along, girl.” My voice dulled on the last sentence, my eyes grew red instantly, a hard lump clogged my throat.

A beat of stunned quiet. Then Sara exploded. “That lying, cheating, ghosting piece of—Samantha, are you okay? Did you punch him?”

“I wanted to. I really wanted to.” My voice cracked. “But I need this job. For Mia. I can’t walk away.”

Sara’s tone softened. “I know. I know, babe. God, I hate him so much right now. You know I never saw any good in him, but when he proposed with that ring, I thought maybe… There could be some goodness after all”

“Me too.” I rubbed my eyes. “He looked shocked. Like he didn’t expect me. But… he’s been here. With her. While I was waiting for a text that never came.”

“What are you gonna do?” Sara cursed under her breath.

“Survive. Keep my head down, I'm not seeing him. He was already dead to me before I came here, I’m just… going to save every penny. And stay far away from him. Focus. Yeah… that’s it.”

“You think he’ll try something?”

I closed my eyes. “He already tried to talk. I shut him down, though I was shocked.”

“Good. You’re stronger than he thinks, I trust you Sammy.”

As I swiped a finger over the phone, her last words stuck, it’s not necessarily trust, that I know.

It was Sara telling me to be strong, to not do anything stupid, I can’t even afford to. This Job, my ticket to a better life, I wasn’t going to jeopardize it, not for Marcus.

Then my bare feet hit the cold floor as I moved from one corner to the other, the room felt bigger than my whole old apartment.

I grabbed the crisp white sheets, it felt like water against my hands, that probably cost more than my last rent before I moved in with Sara.

I unzipped my duffel first, fingertips brushing the smooth wood of the wardrobe as I placed in everything, a few folded blouses, jeans, underwear, the one nice black dress I owned. Then the ring, I had slipped it into my duffel at the sight of him, I placed it in one of the shelves.

My sneakers went under the shelf, then I carefully brought out my black Louboutins, Sara’s gift for my birthday yesterday. The shiny pair caught the gold lights in the room, blinding me a bit, a small smile tugged at my lips.

Next was a small photo of Mia and me. I ran my finger over it, and placed it strategically on the nightstand, eyes moistened a bit but my smile overcame it.

Then I walked slowly. My hand rested on the cool marble countertop of the little kitchenette. A mini fridge hummed quietly. A coffee maker sat next to a kettle. Two mugs stared as I grabbed one. Two plates. Everything neat, waiting.

My eyes caught my image as I set my toiletries on the bathroom counter, I pulled a hand over my messy hair, I needed a good wash.

Fluffy white towels stacked like clouds. I stared at my reflection for another second. Tired eyes stared back. Same old Samantha, but now standing in a room that she'd only seen in movies.

I peeled off my blouse, then my skirt, my bra. Everything slipped to the floor in a soft heap. Naked now, I stepped closer to the mirror. Curves I usually hid under baggy sweaters looked different here, full breasts, soft hips, the faint red marks Alex’s fingers had left on my thighs.

I traced one with my fingertip. Heat bloomed low in my belly, I felt his soft kisses on my neck again.

I sank into the tub slowly. Warm water wrapped around me like a hug, rising over my stomach, my chest, my shoulders. I sighed, long and deep, letting my head rest against the curved edge.

Then my mind drifted. Back to last night. Back to Alex.

The way his breath had caught when I clenched around him. His hands gripping my hips like he was afraid I’d disappear.

The filthy-sweet things he whispered against my neck.

“So perfect… love how you feel… gonna make you come so hard.”

My thighs pressed together under the water. A dull, sweet ache pulsed between my legs, remembering every thrust. The way he’d groaned my fake name, ”Lena” when he came. I shut my eyes tight.

My hand drifted down my stomach, almost touching my clit where I felt him, then stopped. No.

I’d done the right thing, it was best that way.

Sneaking out at dawn. No note. No number. No chance for him to hurt me later.

Men left. They always left. Marcus proved that. I couldn’t afford another crack in my heart. Not now. Not with Mia counting on me. Not with this job hanging by a thread because of the man sleeping somewhere in this same house.

I reached for the shower gel again. Squeezed a dollop into my palm. Roses and peonies flooded my lungs as I rubbed it over my arms, my breasts, my stomach. Bubbles slid over my skin.

I scrubbed like I needed to scrub away the shock of seeing Marcus.

“Welcome to the good life, Sam,” I said out loud, voice echoing off the tiles. A small, real smile tugged at my lips as I let my hair soak in enough of the fragranced water.

I leaned back again, eyes closed, letting the warmth soak into my bones.

Then, bang! The bedroom door slammed shut.

My eyes flew open.

“Who’s there? Maria?” I called, voice sharper than I meant.

No sound came.

My heart kicked hard against my ribs. I sat up straighter, bubbles clung to my chest.

The frosted glass curtain around the tub blurred everything outside, I strained yet saw nothing.

“Hello? Who’s there?” I tried again. My voice shook this time.

Footsteps. Slow. Heavy.

Someone was in my room.

I clasped both hands over my bare breasts. Water dripped from my arms. “I said—who’s there?”

No answer.

Panic crawled up my throat. My stomach dropped as I looked around for a possible weapon.

I reached for a towel hanging nearby first, but my fingers were wet and slippery. I missed. The towel fell to the floor with a soft thud.

The footsteps stopped near the bathroom door.

I stared at the curtain, almost shaky. Shadows moved behind it, tall, broad.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny please .” My breath came fast. I swallowed hard.

“Marcus? Is that you?” A long pause.

Then a low voice, deep, smooth, familiar, edged with something I couldn’t name.

“Sam.”

My blood went cold, my nipples hardened under my arms. It was him.