All Chapters of She Writes Her Own Heartbeat : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Pov Samantha ****The raindrops started as a gentle patter against the car window, but by the time we reached the mansion, they were coming down in a torrent. My dress, a sleek silk number, was now clinging uncomfortably to my skin, and my hair, so meticulously styled just hours ago, was a wet, disheveled mess. The bodyguards, in their perfectly dry suits, were quick to open the doors, but it was impossible to avoid the downpour. I hurried inside, the cold seeping through my thin clothes.As soon as the heavy oak door closed behind me, I kicked off my heels, leaving them as two sad, muddy puddles in the grand foyer. I didn't even bother to turn on the lights. Instead, I just started for the stairs, the sound of my bare feet on the marble echoing in the silence of the house. The cool air from the air conditioning was a stark contrast to the humid evening, and I shivered as I walked. All I wanted to do was get upstairs, peel off these clothes, and finally feel clean again.The water fr

POV Samantha ***The meeting ended, a blur of handshakes and congratulations. I excused myself, needing a moment to process everything, and stepped out into the hallway, the cool air a stark contrast to the buzzing energy of the conference room. My legs felt shaky, and I leaned against the wall, a wave of relief washing over me. I was waiting for Marcus to finish up, my mind still replaying the moment Mr. Davies offered the deal, when my phone buzzed in my hand.I pulled it out, and the screen lit up with Benjamin's name. I stared at it, a knot tightening in my stomach. The last time we spoke, things had been... complicated. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the accept button. It rang again, a loud, insistent jolt in the quiet hallway. I thought about the lie, about the elaborate web of deceit we had woven, and for a fleeting moment, I just wanted to let it go to voicemail. OʻI didn't want to talk about it, not now, not when I was riding on the high of this incredible success. B

POV Samantha**As we lingered over the remains of our picnic, the conversation flowed easily. I found myself telling him everything about my book: the initial struggle with writer's block, the characters that felt like old friends, and the thrill of finally typing "The End." I told him about the subtle details I’d woven into the story and the themes I hoped would resonate with readers. It was a side of myself I rarely shared, and he listened intently, asking thoughtful questions."I can't wait to read it," he said, the sincerity in his voice making my heart flutter. "When can I get a copy?""It's still in the editing phase," I laughed. "But you'll be the first to get a copy when it's done."The afternoon sun began to cast long shadows across the grass, a silent signal that our time was coming to an end. Benjamin looked at his watch, his expression shifting back to his usual guarded self. "I should get you back," he said, the easy atmosphere from moments ago beginning to fade.His

Pov Samantha *** The next morning, I was jolted awake not by the sunlight or the distant sounds of the city, but by a chilling stillness. I opened my eyes, disoriented for a moment, and then I saw him. Benjamin was standing by the large windows of the penthouse, bathed in the early morning light, watching me. He was dressed in a crisp black suit, looking as impeccable and imposing as he had the day before. The look on his face was unreadable, a stark contrast to the warmth of his text message the night before. I sat up in bed, pulling the silk comforter up to my chin. The beautiful memories of my celebratory dinner with Marcus vanished in an instant, replaced by a sudden rush of fear and confusion. He had been gone, and now he was here, watching me sleep. My heart began to pound a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "Benjamin?" I said, my voice barely a whisper. "What are you doing here?" He didn't answer right away. He just continued to watch me, his gaze intense. I could fee

Pov Samantha *** The next morning, I woke up to a silence so profound it felt like a physical absence. I instinctively reached for the other side of the bed, only to find it empty and cold. He was gone. The memory of last night's charged moment on the balcony flooded my mind, a mix of embarrassment and lingering confusion. I had pulled away, a part of me wanting to run from a feeling that was getting too big to handle. Now, he had left without a word, and a part of me wondered if he regretted what had happened. I took a long, hot shower, hoping to wash away the unease. As I dried off, I noticed a change in my phone's lock screen. It was a photo of us from the beach, a close-up selfie of our smiling faces. A small, but undeniable gesture. A gesture that made my heart flutter despite my best efforts. When I came downstairs, the scent of sizzling bacon and fresh-brewed coffee filled the air. Benjamin wasn't there, but on the kitchen island was a plate of perfectly cooked eggs, cri