Semua Bab The mafia ceo's substitute bride : Bab 21 - Bab 30

[ SAMANTHA'S POV ]This was the second day I have been locked inside this dark, freezing room. Two endless days of sitting in total blackness, listening to the heavy silence of the East Wing. Sophia was nowhere to be found. Usually, the kind maid would sneak in water or a warm blanket when David turned his back, but this time, the door hadn't opened once. David must have banned her from coming anywhere near this hallway. He'd even ordered the kitchen staff to skip my meals entirely, leaving me to starve in the cold until I learned my lesson.He thought I was plotting against him. He thought I was secretly making deals with Julian Vance, his bitter business rival. He had no idea what Julian had actually whispered in my ear at the gala. Julian hadn't threatened me; he was far too calculating for that. He'd figured out that my marriage to David was a complete sham, a cold loveless marriage wrapped in fake smiles for the media. He saw right through the loving couple act we put on for the

[ SOPHIA'S POV ]As the door swung open, I was so terrified that it would end today.My chest caved in, my lungs locking up completely. The beam of light hit the floor first, sweeping over the dusty floorboards toward the mattress. I scrambled to my feet, throwing my body right in front of Miss Samantha, praying my dress was wide enough to hide the IV line hanging from the coat rack behind me.​"Where did Chef say those silver trays were..." a voice muttered from the doorway.​The flashlight beam flicked upward, catching me in its glare, and the voice gasped.The voice was thin, high, and completely wrong for David Kingsley.It was Mary. She stood in the doorway holding a flashlight, a heavy brass ring of kitchen keys jingling from her hand. She blinked into the dark storage study, completely surprised to see me standing there. "Oh! I didn't know you were down here, ma'am. Chef sent me to grab the silver serving trays from the back shelf for tonight's dinner party. He's throwing a fit

[ SOPHIA'S POV ]​"Why in the hell did you deliberately disobey my orders?!”His voice shattered the quiet storage room like thunder, shaking the dusty walls and making the clear plastic IV tube tremble where it hung. Anyone else in this estate would have dropped to their knees, trembled, and begged for forgiveness.I didn't move an inch.I didn't drop my gaze, and I didn't let my hands shake as I squeezed the cold towel out into the basin. The water dripped in steady, heavy drops against the porcelain bowl, mirroring the frantic pounding in my chest, but my posture remained as still as stone. Slowly, deliberately, I stood up from the freezing floorboards. The damp fabric of my apron clung to my skirt, but I smoothed it down with unhurried hands, pulled my spine straight, and looked David Kingsley dead in the eye.For the first time in twenty years, I didn't see the feared billionaire or the ruthless master of the estate towering over me. I saw the motherless boy I had raised."Lower

[ SAMANTHA'S POV ]The silence in the grand hallway was heavy enough to choke on.I stood near the marble staircase, watching a housemaid wipe down the base of a tall bronze statue. Her rag moved in tight, repetitive circles. I took three steps forward, stopping right beside her shoulder."Where is Sophia?" I asked, my voice dry and scratchy against my throat.The maid’s hands didn't pause. She kept scrubbing, her eyes glued to the dark metal. Her jaw was set so hard I could see the muscle bulging near her ear. She didn't blink. She didn't shift her weight. It was as if my voice was nothing more than wind rustling through the curtains.A sharp, tight knot pulled tight inside my chest. I took two steps backward, my bare feet sinking into the thick carpet.The unlocked bedroom door was just a trick. Being allowed to walk down these long, polished hallways didn't mean I was free, it just meant my prison was larger. Every servant I passed looked straight through me, stepping around my bod

[ SAMANTHA'S POV ]I pressed my palms flat against the open pages, feeling the rough texture of the heavy paper under my skin. My knees trembled under the mahogany desk, but I locked my spine straight and met David's dark, piercing eyes.He didn't back away. He reached down, the sleeve of his crisp white shirt brushing my knuckles as he snatched the yellow legal pad off the wood.His eyes swept over my neat lines of black ink. A faint, dry smirk curled the corner of his lips."You're skimming heavy text to keep your mind busy," David said, his voice low and smooth as silk, carrying a cold, casual mocking edge. "Playing with numbers doesn't mean you understand how high-level corporate logistics work, Samantha. My legal team spends months auditing these books."A sudden wave of heat surged up my neck, burning away the lingering chill of my fever. I didn't flinch. I didn't look away from his face."My father kept tutors and business advisors in his office for hours, teaching Linda how to