My Enemy's Daughter (Edited)

Chapter 38

Samuel's POV

The road stretched out in front of me, endless and empty, as my foot pressed harder on the gas. The car's engine roared, the speedometer ticking higher, but it still wasn't fast enough. I needed to get away-from her, from myself, from the chaos that had just unfolded. My knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly, my jaw clenched so hard it hurt. But none of that compared to the ache in my chest, the relentless pounding of my heart as Fiona's words echoed in my head.

"You're right," she had said, her voice dripping with venom. "I'm a slut, a whore. I've enjoyed selling my body, making my father's business thrive. I would've done the same for you if you'd asked. But you're a fool. You've been settling for scraps thinking I'm pure. When I'm nothing but a cheap whore."

I slammed my fist against the steering wheel, a strangled growl escaping my throat. How had I been so blind? How had I let myself fall for her lies, for the facade of innocence she'd crafted so well? She was Bruckner's daughter-Jake Bruckner, the man who had ruined everything, the man I swore I would destroy. And I'd trusted her. I'd *loved* her. No, not love-I couldn't have loved her. I refused to believe I had been that stupid.

The words kept circling in my head, poisoning every thought, every rational part of me that tried to calm down.

"Yes, I do mean it," she'd snapped at me. "I've sold myself for money. I've done things that would make your skin crawl. And you know what? You're just like the other old fools. Believe whatever you want about me. I'm beyond saving."

I could still see her face, the cold fury in her eyes as she said those words, as if she was trying to hurt me on purpose. And she had. Every word had cut deeper than I thought possible.

"Believe whatever you want about me."

I slammed my hand against the dashboard this time, unable to contain the rage building inside of me. *Damn it, I do believe it!* I thought. She admitted it herself. Only a fool would choose to ignore her confession. And yet, a small, maddening voice at the back of my mind kept trying to argue. *What if she was lying? What if she said those things just to push you away?*

But I refused to entertain that thought. I wasn't going to let myself fall into that trap again. Fiona Bruckner was a liar. A manipulator. A woman who had played me from the start. And I... I was a fool. Yelling into the night like a madman, I roared, "I hate her! I hate her for making me believe in her!"

My car screeched to a halt in front of the safe house. The tires skidded on the gravel, sending clouds of dust into the night air. The place was quiet-too quiet. I shoved the door open and stormed inside, the anger still burning like a wildfire inside me. My men were stationed in the house, scattered throughout, but I didn't bother acknowledging any of them as I made my way down the hall.

Lyle's door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open without knocking. He looked up from his desk, calm as ever, though there was a slight flicker of surprise in his eyes. He wasn't used to seeing me in this state-no one was. I was always in control. Always the one pulling the strings. But tonight, I was unraveling, and Lyle could see it.

"Boss," he said cautiously, standing up. "What's going on?"

I didn't waste any time with pleasantries. "Did you know?" I growled, my voice barely more than a snarl. "Did you know about Fiona the whole time?"

Lyle's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "Know what about her?"

I slammed my fist down on his desk, the force of it rattling everything in the room. "Don't play dumb with me, Lyle! Did you know she was sleeping with men for her father's business? That she's been playing me for a fool?"

Lyle's face remained neutral, but I could see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he glanced away for a brief second. That was all the confirmation I needed.

"Samuel, listen," he began, his tone measured, calm. "When we were looking into her and Ray's situation before you gave the order to take him down... there were rumors. I didn't think they were credible, but I heard things."

I stared at him, my pulse pounding in my ears. "You heard things," I repeated, my voice flat. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Boss, they were just rumors. People talk. I didn't want to bring it to you unless I had solid proof. Besides, I thought you'd see through any lies."

His words felt like salt in an open wound. "I've heard enough," I muttered, cutting him off before he could say anything more.

Lyle opened his mouth to speak again, but I didn't want to hear it. Not now. Not when everything felt like it was spinning out of control. He stood there watching me, waiting for some kind of instruction, but I wasn't about to give any. I couldn't even think straight.

"Should I call back the men?" Lyle asked, hesitantly. "The ones keeping watch on her?"

I turned my back on him, already halfway out the door. "No," I snapped. "Leave her."

Lyle said something under his breath, but I didn't care. I stormed out of the room, my mind racing. The idea of anyone watching over her now made me sick. I wanted nothing to do with her-nothing to do with Jake Bruckner's daughter, the woman who had ripped my heart to pieces with her lies.

I got back into my car, driving aimlessly for a while before my hands seemed to take control, steering me towards my beach house. The night air was cold, the sky dark and unforgiving as the distant hum of the ocean reached my ears.

When I stepped into my room, I was greeted by silence, the kind that weighed heavy on the soul. My eyes were immediately drawn to the bed where a framed picture of my late wife rested-her smiling face frozen in time. Next to it was the small, delicate anagram of our baby, the one we lost far too soon.

The sight of them hit me like a tidal wave of grief. How long had it been since I'd visited their graves? Months? How had I let that happen? How had I let *her* distract me from what really mattered? The guilt washed over me, more suffocating than any wave of anger I had felt earlier. I had sworn an oath-to avenge them, to make Jake Bruckner pay for what he had done.

And yet here I was, entangled in his daughter's web, letting my heart get twisted by the very bloodline I should have been destroying.

I couldn't stay here. Not with these memories staring back at me, accusing me of my failures. Grabbing my coat, I stormed back out into the night, getting into my car and speeding off towards the cemetery.

The drive felt longer than it should have, each mile pulling me deeper into my own thoughts. Fiona's face kept flashing in my mind-her eyes, the way they had looked at me before everything went to hell. That small voice whispered again, *What if she was lying?*

I clenched my teeth, forcing the thought away. No. She wasn't lying. She had told me the truth. I had to believe it.

By the time I reached the cemetery, the cold night air had numbed most of my body, but the ache in my chest was still there, raw and unrelenting. I walked through the gates, the sound of gravel crunching beneath my boots the only noise in the stillness.

Their graves were side by side, marked by simple headstones. I stood there for a long time, staring down at the names etched into the stone. My wife. My son. Gone. All because of Jake Bruckner.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I've been... distracted. But I'm going to make it right. I'll destroy him. I swear it."

I knelt down, resting a hand on each stone. "I'll avenge you," I said, my voice stronger now. "And then I'll join you."

Images of Fiona kept flashing through my mind, stirring feelings I didn't want to acknowledge. But I shoved them aside with a renewed sense of determination. She was a part of this now-whether I liked it or not. But nothing would stop me from keeping my oath.

Not even her.