When Leo got a girlfriend, his father found Samuel a girlfriend. The same hair color, the same eye color, the same smile. Samuel did not like her. She was loud and demanding and empty, a shell of a person who only cared about how she looked and what people thought of her. But his father did not care. His father never cared about what Samuel wanted.

When Leo killed that girlfriend, Samuel’s father made Samuel kill his.

Samuel remembered standing over her body with the gun in his hand. She had been crying, begging, asking why. Her mascara had run down her cheeks in black rivers. Her voice had cracked on every word.

He did not have an answer. He just pulled the trigger.

That was the first time he had developed real feelings for someone. She had been kind to him, in her own way. She used to be very protective of him.

And he had killed her because his father told him to.

He hated Leo for that. Not because Leo had done anything to him directly, but because Leo existed. Because Leo lived a normal life while Samuel was trapped in the shadows, suffocating under his father’s expectations. Because Leo had a mother who loved him, a father who protected him, a wife who smiled at him like he was the sun.

Samuel had none of that.

His father was obsessed with Lina Moretti. Samuel had found him late at night, sitting in his study, the door slightly ajar, the lamp casting yellow light across his hunched shoulders. He was caressing a photograph of Leo’s mother, his thumb tracing the curve of her face, whispering to himself, low and feverish.

"She will be mine. Her son will be my son. After I kill Alessandro, we will be a family. A real family."

Samuel had stood in the doorway, watching, feeling nothing. He was used to his father’s obsessions by then. They were like the furniture, always there, always ugly, always in the way.

The obsession extended to Bella.

When Leo married her, Pablo’s interest sharpened like a blade being honed. He told Samuel to keep an eye on her, to watch her, to learn everything about her. What she ate. What she wore. Where she went. Who she talked to.

Samuel did not understand why at first. She was just a girl. Pretty, yes. Sweet, yes. But just a girl. There were millions of pretty, sweet girls in the world.

Then he started watching her.

He saw her when she came outside, walking through the garden, her hair loose and catching the sunlight. He saw her kindness, the way she smiled at people who did not deserve her smile, the way she helped strangers without expecting anything in return. He saw her gentleness, the softness in her voice when she spoke to her friends, the patience in her eyes when someone was struggling.

He saw her innocence, her shyness, the way she blushed when someone complimented her, like she could not believe they meant it.

And something changed inside him.

For the first time in his life, he felt something that was not hatred or fear or obligation. He felt warmth, longing, a desperate aching need to be near her, to be seen by her, to matter to her.

He wanted her.

Not because his father told him to. Not because Leo had her, but because she made him feel like he was not completely broken. Like there was still something inside him that could be saved.

She should be his. Only his. Leo did not deserve her. Leo had everything: a family, a name, a future. Leo had never been forced to kill the person he loved. Leo had never knelt in his mother’s blood while his father lectured him about weakness.

Samuel had suffered. Samuel had bled. Samuel had earned the right to be happy.

And Bella was his happiness.

Samuel snapped back to the present. He was standing in front of Bella, his hand reaching out to touch her hair, his fingers hovering just above the strands.

"Where is Mira?" Bella asked coldly.

Her voice cut through his thoughts like a blade. She was not scared anymore. Her eyes were hard and sharp, nothing like the soft, innocent girl he had been watching for months.

Samuel laughed. Oh god, she was so unpredictable and charming. He grabbed a strand of her hair and lifted it to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was sweet, floral like spring rain and fresh flowers. He smiled, closing his eyes for just a moment.

"Why so hurry?" he said. "If you want Mira safe, you have to do as I say."

Bella frowned. "Tell me quickly."

Samuel’s smile widened. His eyes gleamed with something dark and exciting.

"Cheat on Leo with me," he said, his voice rising with anticipation. "And become pregnant with my child."

He laughed loudly, the sound echoing off the walls, bouncing back at him like a taunt like the building itself was mocking him.

Bella’s face twisted with disgust. She looked like she had just eaten a fly, like she had swallowed something rotten and could not spit it out fast enough. Her nose wrinkled. Her lips curled.

She did not hesitate. She slapped him hard.

The sound cracked through the room like a whip. Samuel’s head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging, burning, the skin already reddening. But he did not move. He just stood there, his smile returning, softer and almost dreamy.

"I would rather kill you than cheat on Leo," Bella said, her voice low and fierce, each word a small blade.

She started hitting him. Her fists pounded against his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Each punch was weak compared to the violence he had known all his life, the violence his father had carved into his bones. But they landed with a force that surprised him.

He let her hit him.

Because her hands were soft. Each punch felt like a love tap, like she was touching him, like she was paying attention to him, like she was giving him the love he had never received before. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling, the warmth of her skin against his, the rhythm of her hits, the sound of her breathing.