Chapter 98
Samantha watched trene walk away, her blood practically boiling under her designer outfit. The nerve of that woman! Strolling into Adam’s home at this hour like she owned the place, then breezing past without so much as a “hello.”
The moment Irene disappeared, Samantha plastered on her society smile and turned to Thomas.
“So, Thomas,” she kept her voice breezy, though her knuckles had gone white around her purse strap. “Who exactly was that? I don’t
think we’ve met.”
Thomas’s face might as well have been carved from stone. “A friend of Mr. Haven’s.”
“A friend?” Samantha’s laugh tinkled like crystal. “Must be a pretty good friend to drop by unannounced this late.”
She’d spent years cultivating her position in Adam’s orbit–making strategic appearances at charity events he attended, befriending his mother, even quietly intimidating other women who’d shown interest. Yet here was this random woman, completely off her radar, waltzing through Adam’s front door.
Thomas shifted his weight. “Is there something I can help you with tonight, Miss Wright?”
“Just find it interesting,” she twirled her bracelet, “that some people knock and wait while others just come and go freely.”
“Mr. Haven is currently unavailable,” Thomas replied, sidestepping her comment entirely. “If you have a message-
“So what’s her deal?” Samantha cut in, patience thinning.
Business? Pleasure? Both?”
Thomas’s expression remained maddeningly neutral. “I’m afraid I cant discuss Mr. Haven’s personal matters. Was there something specific you needed tonight?”
The brush–off stung like hell. She’d spent three hours getting ready hair, makeup, outfit all perfectly calculated for this “spontaneous” visit. She’d even timed it perfectly, knowing Adam would be back from his family dinner.
“Fine,” she sighed, reaching into her purse for a cream envelope. “This is for Adam. My birthday celebration next weekend.” She handed it over with the smile she’d practiced in front of mirrors since she was twelve. “Make sure he gets it tonight, okay? Tell him I’m really hoping he’ll come.”
Thomas accepted it with a nod. “Of course.”
“Thanks, Thomas. You’re a doll.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Have a great night.”
As the door closed, Samantha stood frozen, dignity battling desperation. Every instinct screamed to hammer on the door until Adam himself appeared, but her mother’s voice echoed in her head: Men run from desperate women faster than they run from trouble.
Instead of heading to her car, she found herself drifting sideways, ducking behind the perfectly pruned landscaping. The rational part of her brain screamed this was crazy–hiding in bushes like some unhinged teenager but she couldn’t make herself leave.
Just five minutes, she promised herself. Just to see if she comes back.
The minutes crawled by. Samantha checked her watch so often her wrist started to ache. Just as she was about to admit defeat, movement caught her eye.
There she was again–mystery woman, carrying what looked like a medical bag. She didn’t hesitate at the door, didn’t ring the bell, didn’t even knock. Just opened it and walked right in like she belonged there.
Samantha’s jaw dropped.
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Chapter 98
They’re sleeping together. They have to be.
The thought hit Samantha like a slap. For three years, she’d been treated like Adam’s unofficial future wife. Business proposals, social invitations, VIP treatment all because of her connection to the Haven name. And here she was, hiding in shrubbery while some stranger waltzed into Adam’s home without even knocking.
It’s like I’m the joke and everyone’s in on it.
Samantha forced her grip on her purse to relax. No, this had to be inocent, Adam didn’t do relationships–everyone knew that. He could barely tolerate people in his personal space.
She’s just another social climber. He’ll send her packing any minute.
But thirty minutes passed. No shouting. No woman being escorted out. Nothing.
She lives next door AND has unlimited access to his house? The thought burned through her.
In Adam’s treatment room, Irene knelt beside his legs, checking the response to her earlier work.
Neural pathways are firing better than I expected,” she murmured, adjusting one of her devices. Each movement was precise, her
focus absolute.
Adam’s jaw tightened as tingles shot through previously numb areas. He found himself watching the focused precision of her movements, the way she worked without wasted motion.
When she finished, Irene sat back on her heels, rubbing her wrist. “By the way, I bumped into your fan club on my way back.”
Adam’s eyebrow ticked up.
“Blonde, designer everything, looked at me like I’d stolen her parking spot.” Irene glanced up. “She seemed pretty determined to get in. Friend of yours?”
Something in Adam’s expression shuttered. “Samantha Wright.”
“Ah.” Irene adjusted a dial on her equipment. “Hope I didn’t cause any drama by being here.”
“There’s nothing to misunderstand,” Adam replied flatly. “Our families have some business connection. That’s it.”
Irene nodded, returning to her work without pressing further. Rich people problems were definitely not on her list of interests.
Thomas appeared with tea, setting it down silently before retreating to his usual spot against the wall. The treatment continued in comfortable silence, Irene’s hands steady despite the fatigue settling into her shoulders.
When she finished the final adjustments, she stood up. “We’re done. Twenty minutes minimum in the bath tonight. The new solution will help stabilize what we started today.”
Adam nodded, noting the improvement from their adjusted approach “Same time tomorrow?”
Yep,” Irene confirmed, packing up. “We can’t skip sessions now that we’re seeing real progress. Night, Haven.”
With that, she left,
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Chapter 98
Later that night, Adam settled into bed after his therapeutic soak. Thomas had arranged his medication on the nightstand alongside a glass of water and Samantha’s envelope.
Anything else, sir?” Thomas asked quietly.
“That’s all,” Adam replied, gaze flicking to the cream–colored invitation.
After Thomas left, Adam stared at the envelope without touching it. To him, it was nothing but fancy trash. He had zero intention of attending her birthday bash, no matter how exclusive or elegant.
The Wright family wasn’t exactly subtle. Their, mothers were friends and Sophia had always adored Samantha. If he showed up at her party, the carefully planted press would splash it across every society page in the city, complete with engagement speculation and wedding predictions.
Adam had bigger problems than playing along with their matchmaking fantasy. With Victor’s schemes at Haven Enterprise still unraveling, the last thing he needed was his personal life becoming public conversation.
He turned away without even opening it. Nobody–not Samantha, not her family, not even his own mother–could strong–arm him into spending time with someone who held zero interest for him. Being Adam Haven came with certain privileges, and making his own damn decisions was definitely one of them.
As sleep pulled at him, his thoughts drifted briefly to Irene’s hands working on his legs–skilled, confident, purposeful. No games, no hidden agendas, no social chess moves. Just straightforward competence.
The invitation sat untouched on his nightstand, as worthless to him as yesterday’s coffee grounds.
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