My Enemy's Daughter (Edited)

chapter 26

** Samuel's POV**

The car ride back from the Kincaids' mansion was thick with silence. I stared out the window, lost in the chaos of my thoughts. Beside me, Fiona let out a frustrated huff as she slipped off her shoes, the sound echoing in the stillness of the car. She was agitated, and I didn't blame her. I had put her in a difficult position tonight, pretending we were something we weren't in front of the Kincaids. It wasn't fair to her, and I knew it. But I couldn't bring myself to regret it.

I needed this. I needed the Kincaids to trust me, to believe that Fiona and I were in a serious relationship. Their shipping line was crucial, not just to my business, but to my plan. It was the line Jake Bruckner used to transport illegal weapons and drugs across the world. And when he went down-when I finally destroyed him-I was taking all his accomplices with him. Including anyone who knowingly helped him.

The Kincaids might be guilty. Or they might be innocent bystanders, used by Bruckner without their knowledge. Either way, I needed to find out. It was all going down soon, and I wasn't about to let anyone escape judgment. But there was a part of me that still cared about limiting the collateral damage. I wasn't a monster-at least, not completely.

But I wasn't innocent, either. My hands were filthy. In the past 21 years, I'd done things I wasn't proud of, made money by any means necessary, all in the name of revenge. I had to, to get this far. But I never planned to stay in this world of corruption forever. Once I had my revenge, I'd burn it all down.

That thought was the only thing that kept me going.

As we pulled up to Fiona's house, I turned to check on her and found her fast asleep, her head resting gently against the window. She looked so young in her sleep, her face soft and peaceful. Sometimes I forgot how much younger she was than me. In moments like this, she looked so innocent, so untouched by the ugliness of the world.

She looked like an angel, with her hair falling across her cheek like that. It hit me all at once, how fragile and precious she was.

I motioned for the driver to be silent as I opened my door. I carefully got out, walked around to her side, and opened the door. Leaning down, I gently lifted her into my arms. She stirred slightly, shifting comfortably against me, her head resting on my shoulder. I held her tightly, cradling her as if she were made of glass, afraid she might break if I wasn't careful.

The driver grabbed her things and unlocked the door with the keys from her bag, allowing me to carry her inside without waking her. I walked up the stairs slowly, savoring the weight of her in my arms, as if I were carrying something priceless.

And maybe I was.

When I finally laid her down on her bed, she blinked awake, looking up at me in confusion. "Where...am I?" she asked, her voice groggy with sleep.

"You're home," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She let out a sleepy sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. "I didn't like what you did earlier."

"I know," I said softly. "I'm sorry. But it was important."

She yawned, her eyes half-closed. "Just don't do something that'll make me unhappy, okay?"

I stood there for a moment, watching her drift back to sleep. Her words echoed in my mind, seeping into the cracks of my hardened resolve. I leaned down, brushing my fingers against her soft, silky cheek before quietly slipping out of the room.

As the driver took me to my next destination, I replayed her words over and over again. *Don't do something that'll make me unhappy*.

By the time we arrived at the warehouse, I had shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind. There was work to do, and I couldn't afford to be distracted.

I stepped into the cold, dimly lit building, the metallic scent of blood hanging in the air. My men stood in a semicircle around a chair, where a man sat tied up, his face swollen and bruised from the beating he'd already received. His name was Vincent, and he had once been one of my trusted associates. Until I found out he had been skimming money from my accounts and, worse, cozying up to Jake Bruckner.

I approached him slowly, a deranged smile spreading across my face as I took in his battered form. "Vincent," I said, my voice cold. "How could you betray me like this? After everything I've done for you?"

He groaned, barely able to lift his head. I crouched down in front of him, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at me.

"I picked you up from nothing," I hissed, my voice dripping with venom. "And this is how you repay me? By stealing from me and siding with Bruckner?"

I stood up abruptly, delivering a hard punch to his already broken face. He slumped over, barely conscious, but I wasn't finished with him yet.

I pulled out the small pistol I always carried, the cold metal comforting in my hand. I looked around at the men gathered there, making sure they saw what happened to those who betrayed me. I raised the gun, my finger tightening on the trigger.

But just as I was about to pull it, I heard her voice in my head. *Don't do something that'll make me unhappy*.

My grip faltered, the words wrapping around me like a chain. For the first time in years, I hesitated.

"Boss?" my right-hand man, Lyle, asked, his voice cautious. "What's wrong?"

I lowered the gun, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Take him away," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lyle blinked, shocked. "You want us to-"

"I said, take him away. Lock him up. I don't want to see him again."

There was a stunned silence in the room as my men exchanged confused glances. But they didn't question me. They dragged Vincent away, his body limp and broken, leaving me standing there with the gun still in my hand.

I shoved the gun back into its holster and stormed out, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I made my way to my office, slamming the door behind me once I was inside. I paced back and forth, trying to shake the feeling that had taken root in my chest.

Why did I stop? Why did I let her words get to me?

I leaned against my desk, rubbing my temples as frustration and confusion churned inside me. I had never hesitated before. Not when it came to dealing with traitors. Not when it came to revenge.

A few minutes later, Lyle knocked on the door and stepped inside, his face still reflecting the confusion of the men. "What happened back there, Sam? Why'd you stop?"

"I changed my mind," I said flatly, not meeting his gaze.

Lyle frowned. "You're sending a message that you're going soft. The men-"

I grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close, my voice low and dangerous. "I'm not soft. Killing Vincent is not part of the bigger picture. My goal is to kill the man who destroyed my life. The one who killed my wife and my unborn child. Everything else? It's noise."

Lyle backed off, his eyes wide with shock. I released him, taking a step back, my breathing heavy. "I don't care about traitors like Vincent. I care about one thing-Bruckner. And when I get him, no one will question my strength."

Lyle nodded, the tension easing slightly. "Understood. I'm sorry, boss."

He straightened his shirt and cleared his throat before speaking again. "I've got some new intel on Bruckner's operations."

I nodded, the rage simmering just beneath the surface as we began to discuss our next steps. The details fell into place, the plan growing sharper, more focused. But even as we talked, I couldn't shake the sound of Fiona's voice in my head.

*Don't do something that'll make me unhappy*.

I didn't know what was happening to me, but one thing was clear-Fiona was getting under my skin in a way I hadn't expected. And that was dangerous.

Because in my world, emotions were a weakness. And weakness got people killed.