Chapter 13: The Cold Measurements

[ DAVID'S POV ]

"Do we understand each other?"

The words hung in the quiet, dusty room. Samantha did not nod. She did not blink. But the tiny shake in her fingers told me everything. She understood. Sophia’s safety was the leash, and I had just pulled it tight. I could see the pure anger burning behind her eyes, but she had no choice. I held all the cards.

"Good," I muttered.

I turned on my heel, leaving the door unlocked for the first time in two days.

"Take her to the main mansion," I ordered the two guards waiting in the hall. "Put her in the East Wing salon. Clean her up, feed her, and get her ready. The designer will be here in an hour."

Ten minutes later, I stood by the grand staircase of the main house, watching the heavy front doors open. Samantha was led inside. She looked so small against the huge marble pillars of my foyer. Her feet dragged a bit on the floor, but her chin was held high. Even in her dirty, worn-out clothes, she stood completely stiff and straight. Her face was totally blank. She walked with a cold, silent focus that made my chest tighten with a strange, dark annoyance. I hated how even when she was defeated, she refused to look broken.

I had ordered Sophia to bring up a tray of food. When Sophia entered the salon carrying the hot soup and fresh bread, Samantha’s eyes softened for a split second. The hard, frozen look on her face melted into something real and vulnerable.

"Eat," I said coldly from the doorway, leaning against the frame with my arms crossed.

Sophia set the tray down with shaking hands. She kept her head low, completely unaware of the threat I had just used to force Samantha to cooperate. She thought she was just doing her job, helping a guest. Sophia looked at Samantha with pity, her eyes wide and soft.

"Please, ma'am, you must be hungry," Sophia whispered gently. She bowed her head and quickly slipped out of the room.

Samantha didn't touch the food at first. She stared at the door where Sophia had just vanished, then slowly turned her eyes to me. The silent message passed between us. If she didn't eat, if she didn't survive this, Sophia would pay the price. With slow, forced movements, she picked up the spoon. Her hand was shaking, but she forced it to stop. She ate quietly, her jaw tight, swallowing every bite like it was poison. I watched her, my chest feeling heavy. I hated how even when she was obeying me, she made it feel like a declaration of war.

As soon as she finished, the heavy doors opened again.

Standing in the center of the room was Chloe, the city's top fashion designer. Two of her assistants stood nervously next to her with rolling racks of expensive clothes. Beside them was a makeup artist, her heavy black case already open on the table.

"Fix the face first," I ordered, pointing a finger at Samantha. "I want every single mark gone."

The makeup artist scrambled forward, her hands shaking as she unpacked her brushes. Samantha sat perfectly still in the velvet chair. She was like a statue as cold creams and heavy makeup were patted onto her skin. I stood by the window, watching the dark, ugly purple bruise on her jaw the bruise my own hand had left slowly disappear under layers of expensive concealer. Within minutes, her skin was flawless and pale. The split on her lip was painted over with a deep red lipstick. It was like watching a canvas being painted. But beneath the makeup, I knew the anger was still boiling.

"Now the dress," I said, turning to Chloe. "I want your absolute best. Bring out the most expensive gown you have. She needs to look stunning and completely presentable for the cameras. No exceptions."

Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she immediately pointed her assistants to a secure bag. "Right away, David. I have the perfect piece."

They pulled out a beautiful midnight-blue gown. It was made from the finest silk, and it caught the light with every single movement. It was pure luxury, the kind of dress only the richest people could ever buy.

They took Samantha behind a screen to dress her.

The minutes dragged on. The quiet rustle of silk behind the screen was the only sound in the room. My heart was beating a little too fast, and a strange tightness gripped my throat. I told myself it was just the stress of the company, the stock drop, and the pressure from the board. It had nothing to do with the girl behind the screen.

A few minutes later, Chloe stepped back, pulling the screen open.

"She is ready, David," she whispered, looking completely amazed.

I turned my head, looking her up and down and my breath instantly caught in my throat.

The gown fit her perfectly. The rich midnight-blue silk hugged her waist and flowed down her small frame, making her skin look incredibly pale and glowing. The elegant neckline showed off her shoulders. The deep red lipstick made her eyes look incredibly bright, sharp, and fierce. She looked absolutely beautiful. She did not look like the girl I had locked in a dark room. She looked stunning, standing there with a cold, quiet anger that completely took over the room.

For a split second, my heart gave a hard, unfamiliar thump against my ribs. My mind went blank. The anger, the greed, the company crisis it all vanished. I wanted to reach out, to touch the soft fabric, to see if she was real.

But I was David Kingsley. I did not lose control. I did not feel it.

I forced my face to freeze, making my expression cold and careless again. I pushed the sudden warmth down, burying it deep under my usual icy act. I could not let her see that she had affected me, even for a second.

I stepped closer to her, my boots clicking loudly on the floor. The sound was sharp, cutting through the heavy silence of the room. I looked down at her, my voice completely flat and detached, hiding the storm inside my chest.

"It will do," I said simply.

Samantha's eyes met mine. There were no tears, no fear. Just a deep, freezing hatred that seemed to cut right through my chest. She saw right through my mask, and she hated me for it.

"We leave in ten minutes," I told her, turning my back on her to face Chloe and her crew. "You're all dismissed. I'll take it from here."

As the staff quickly packed their things and left the room, I stood there, waiting for the car to pull up. I had the upper hand, I had the perfect weapon to control her, but as I walked down the hall, the image of her standing in that stunning dress stayed burned behind my eyes and for the first time, it terrified me.