Masked In Nobility: Secrets Of Mrs. Chavez

Samantha was clad in a red silk nightgown, her skin delicate and smooth. Holding a glass of red wine, she turned gracefully to face Zion, who was standing at the door with his eyes tightly shut. Her face was blushed, and she let out a scornful sniff. “Broad daylight? Zion, open your eyes. What’s with the holier-than-thou act? You never said such things when we were together. What’s with the sudden act of virtue now?”

Zion’s ears turned red with embarrassment at those words, as memories of their past affectionate moments flashed before his eyes.

Zion thought to himself, ‘I know all too well how brutal Samantha can be when she confronts someone. Who knows what she might say next if I don’t respond?’ With that thought, Zion slowly opened his eyes.

He saw that Samantha had changed positions, sitting on a chair next to the piano with her long legs crossed, the tips of her. toes lightly touching the floor, her red dress of thin gauze both revealing and concealing.

Zion choked down a hard swallow, trying his best to play it cool, deliberately shifting his eyes away, steering clear of making eye contact with Samantha.

In a somber tone, Zion said, “Samantha, we’ve already broken up. Don’t do this. You’re the Mitchell family heiress, the dream girl for every guy in Betrico. There are plenty of political scions that would line up for a chance with you. I’m not the one.”

With a heart heavy with loss, Zion uttered, “I’m not the one,” in a voice laced with desolation. As soon as he finished, he couldn’t face Samantha; he bowed his head, his fingers clenching into the palm of his hand.

Samantha didn’t show an ounce of anger at his words. Instead, she graced Zion with a smile that was all kinds of captivating. “Zion, you broke up with me on your own. Did you get my consent? I’m the one who starts the game, and I’ll be the one to end it. It’s not your call to cut us off. Got it?”

Beneath Samantha’s smile was a hidden fury. She thought to herself, ‘This jerk still thinks about breaking up? Fine, I’ll make him pay in bed.’

Zion looked at Samantha and said, “Alright, then you say break up.”

Hearing his words, Samantha was so angry she could have strangled him. Over the years, everyone outside praised him as a gentleman with an elegant demeanor and kind to all. But she, as the one closest to him, knew all too well that Zion was stubborn.

Samantha glared at Zion, her gaze unreadable, and a heavy silence fell between them.

Samantha placed her glass down and strutted to Zion with a slinky grace. Standing right in front of him, she flashed a captivating smile and said, “Alright, if breaking up is what you want, I won’t be the one to hold on tight. I’m on board. Let’s have a drink to sever our ties.” She continued, pressing the wine glass into Zion’s hand and giving him a playful wink, “Go ahead and drink. Once that’s done, we’re history.”

Zion stood there, dazed, clutching the wine glass. He was the one who wanted to call it quits, but now that Samantha was the one walking away, the gut punch of loss left him struggling for air.

Zion’s hand clenched around the wine glass, slowly tightening, until after two long minutes, he raised his eyes to meet Samantha’s gaze, a look of lingering reluctance in them. He downed the wine in one swift motion, a tear suddenly escaping from the corner of his eye, plummeting to the floor, and disappearing as if it had never been.

Samantha’s eyes lingered, and she thought, “This guy is putting on a show of deep affection. It must be all those piano keys that scrambled his brains. Why make things so complicated when they could be simple? Love is love, and if it’s over, it’s over. Be decisive. All these messy thoughts-this mule-headed man is just being stubborn. What’s the point of crying now?’

But as Samantha saw Zion like this, a hint of tenderness welled up in her heart.

After he finished his glass of red wine. Zion’s eyes were slightly glazed as he looked at Samantha with a longing gaze and said, “There. I’m done.”

Samantha swept aside the loose, strands of hair, her wavy tresses pouring down to her waist like a cascade. Glancing at Zion, whose eyes were reddened, she said, “Okay, I’ll be gone in ten minutes. Come on over and have a seat.”

Zion listened to his inner voice, telling himself he only had ten minutes, so he decided to stop holding back. He went to the sofa and sat down neatly, hands on his knees. Even though he was a man in his thirties, his gaze was as pure and clear as a teenager’s.

This was precisely the reason Samantha had noticed Zion the moment she first laid eyes on him. She craved that kind of pure gaze.

Zion looked at Samantha, staring at him in a daze, and asked, “Aren’t you going to sit with me?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Samantha moved over and sat beside Zion. They were close enough that she could reach out and poke his lips gently. They were soft, one of the many things she’d initially liked about him.

Feeling the soft touch of Samantha’s fingertips on his lips, Zion’s body suddenly tensed up. Samantha had a thing for poking them, and she never seemed to get enough of it. She was well aware of Zion’s sensitive spots and was about to touch his earlobe when, in the next moment, Zion’s cold hand had captured her wrist, his grip gradually tightening. Pressing his lips together, he spoke with an affectionate yet warning tone, “Stop teasing, would you? You know I have no defenses against you.”

Samantha looked up, her eyes sparkling with a captivating charm. She released her grip and said with a straight face, “No problem at all. I won’t touch you.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Zion, though, felt puzzled. He wondered, ‘How can the assertive Samantha ever be so obedient? Something about this scenario just seems strange!

For the next eight minutes, the two fell into a comfortable silence, relishing the moment. Despite the air conditioning being set quite low, Zion felt a tingling in his heart, as if little bugs were gnawing at him. He glanced over at Samantha, who was smiling, and something suddenly clicked for Zion. He stared back at her, her gaze inscrutable. He had recognized what was happening to him.

Zion spoke with strained effort. “Samantha, what have you done? This is insane!”

Samantha, resting her chin on her hand, looked up at him and nodded without a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, it’s what you’re thinking. Don’t worry; it won’t have any lasting effects on you. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Battling the unease in his body, Zion sighed in defeat, “Just leave. I’m going to take a shower, and I want you gone quickly.” After all, his current reaction to seeing Samantha was no different from a wolf seeing a steak.

Samantha’s mood plummeted. She thought, ‘I never back down from what I want. The man I want is Zion, and no matter when, if I wish it, he has to be by my side, meekly staying put. If he doesn’t understand it, I am ready to make him get it today.’

Samantha sneered, “But I don’t want to go.”

Zion looked at Samantha, reluctantly giving in. “Alright,” he said. As Samantha raised her hand, with a meaningful gaze, Zion responded, “Samantha, don’t you dare back out on me later.”

Samantha, her fingertips playing with a strand of her long hair, whispered seductively into Zion’s ear, “I never will. You can count on it.

Zion’s expression turned grim. Samantha’s firecracker got going, and no one could stop her. The fact that she’d cooked up this scheme to drive him crazy was both endearing and infuriating.

It wasn’t until the deep of the night that the door to Zion’s master bedroom reopened, a full ten hours after midday had