Chapter 3 Assumptions

When Samantha first took over the Cole Group, she was so swamped with work that she had no appetite. The only thing she could stomach was soup.

Knowing this restaurant was famous for its creamy shrimp and corn soup, I spent some time learning the recipe from the head chef.

Unfortunately, I truly had no talent for cooking. Every day, I either burned my hands, nicked my fingers, or got smacked in the face by live, wriggling shrimp.

Watching the way I handled a knife, Brandon, one of my subordinates, once remarked with a speechless expression, "Joshua, you're removing a shrimp vein, not dismantling a human spine."

In the end, Brandon and the rest of the comrades who had fought through thick and thin with me were forced to taste every version of my soup. It was so terrible they nearly rolled their eyes into the back of their heads.

After several attempts, I finally mastered the dish. Then I went to find Samantha with a lunchbox in hand.

She was reviewing documents. I took it upon myself to take the documents away and told her to take care of her health.

Samantha scoffed. Then, she opened the lunchbox, met my expectant gaze, and poured the soup all over me.

"Wanting to please me, Joshua? This is how you should do it."

That day, I washed my glasses for a very long time. Long enough for the tears in my eyes to disappear.

When I put on my glasses again, I figured I would just secretly make the soup for Samantha at the restaurant she frequented and give credit to the chef, since she disliked the one I had made.

I had never expected her to know all along.

Yet she always chose this restaurant whenever she went on dates with her lovers. So, where did that leave me?

There was a dull ache in my chest.

Alas, everything was just my assumption. I thought my sincerity and perseverance would touch Samantha. Yet, I never considered whether she was willing.

Samantha, Samantha… I was already dead.

I had been handling all the Cole Group's trivial matters for the past five years. Yet I had never imagined that the last problem I would solve for her would be myself.

Still, judging from Samantha's indifferent attitude at dinner, I assumed the young model had no chance.

To my surprise, she actually brought him home.

After all, only Oliver had enjoyed such a privilege before.

The moment Samantha and the young model entered the house, they could barely keep their hands off each other.

The two kissed their way from the entrance to the duplex staircase, leaving pieces of clothing scattered behind them one after another.

Nonetheless, I noticed that Samantha kept her eyes open throughout the kissing and feeling each other. Her gaze was calm, and she even skillfully guided the young model toward our room.

A thought flashed through my mind.

'Is Samantha purposely bringing the young model home to spite me?'

However, I quickly shook my head, for that would be impossible. In my opinion, Samantha simply wanted to humiliate me.

The first time she brought Oliver home, I lost control of my anger. Like a lion whose territory had been invaded, I acted violently and broke Oliver's nose.

"Samantha, you can mess around with your lover however you want at other times, but you're not allowed to bring him home!" I roared at her.

"You have no right to tell me what to do!"

"No right?" I laughed bitterly. "Is being your husband not enough?"

"Joshua, please get this straight. If you hadn't insisted on rushing back into the fire to retrieve the belongings your parents left you, my Dad wouldn't have died saving you!" she retorted sharply.

"Husband?" she sneered. "Your role throughout this marriage has only been to atone for your sins!"

Only after our heated argument did I know Samantha hated me. She hated that I had caused her father's death.

Even so, had she ever thought about why her biological father, who had been ruthless and decisive in the business world for so many years, would suddenly become so kind and compassionate as to choose me from the orphanage, adopt me, and even risk his life for me?

Well, I hoped she would not regret it when she learned the truth.

Seeing that I had not come out of the room or rushed out to punch the young model as if to assert my dominance, Samantha behaved even more seductively. I had to admit, the sight actually cooled some of the anger surging inside me.

At some point, she became so focused on imagining my reaction that she forgot to respond to the young model's kiss. Her back was against the door, and her hand was already on the doorknob, slowly turning it.

For a moment, my heart stirred with anticipation.

Inside our room, on our bed, my body was still lying there.

Knowing how timid Samantha was, I wondered if she would scream or laugh first if she saw my body with her own eyes.

Also, I glanced meaningfully at the young model's lower body, wondering if he would still get a boner in the future.

Unfortunately, the scene I expected did not happen. Samantha's phone rang.

It kept ringing, ruining her mood completely. She pushed the young model away, took a few steps forward, picked up her phone, and answered it.

I leaned closer and heard Alex shout, "Ms. Cole, Mr. White has attempted suicide by cutting his wrists!"

"What?" Samantha exclaimed in shock. Eventually, her gratitude for Oliver's grace for taking a fatal blow for her during the last kidnapping got the better of her. Therefore, she hurriedly dressed and set off for the hospital.

Before leaving, she glanced back at the room. The door had opened by a crack. But it was dark inside. She could not see anything.