CHAINS OF THE HEART

CHAPTER 8 Samantha

The security panel glowed green indicating no breaches. Yet someone had been here. Recently. He moved silently through the rooms, his dress shoes sinking into the thick carpet. The master bedroom door stood slightly ajar. His mouth went dry with sudden rage. The closet door was open. Her side - still full. His side - precisely as he'd left it. A silk scarf lay draped over the divider, crimson as a bloodstain against the dark wood. Alexander reached for his phone, thumb hovering over his security chief's number but he decided against it. In the ensuite bathroom, a single lipstick lay uncapped on the marble counter. Russian Red. The shade she'd worn to their failed engagement party two years ago. This was the first time he came back to his penthouse after two years. Even though it was regularly kept neat and maintained despite not being occupied. The mirror still held the ghost of her fingerprints. He should call someone. Have her removed. Change the codes. Instead, he picked up the lipstick. The waxy scent brought back the memory of her mouth on his, the night she'd smiled against his lips and whispered "Trust me" in that velvet voice. The bullet casing he kept in his pocket dug into his thigh as he sat heavily on the closed toilet lid. The lipstick snapped in his fist.

The penthouse hummed with quiet tension as dawn approached. Alexander stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the first grey light creep across the city skyline. His untouched coffee had gone cold on the glass table beside him. The intercom buzzed. He didn't move. It buzzed again. Longer this time. With deliberate slowness, he crossed the room and pressed the button. "Yes?" "President Knight," the doorman's voice crackled through the speaker. "Your... guest from last night left this at the front desk." Alexander's fingers tightened around the edge of the console. "What guest?" A pause. Then, "The woman. She said you'd know." The elevator dinged moments later. The doorman appeared holding a small black box tied with silver ribbon. Alexander took it without a word and shut the door with his foot. The box weighed nothing in his hands. He set it on the kitchen island and stared at it. The ribbon came undone with one tug. Inside lay a single bullet - same caliber as the casing in his pocket - and a folded slip of paper. Samantha's handwriting hadn't changed. Welcome home, Alexander. The bullet rolled slightly as his breath hitched. He picked it up, the cold metal biting into his palm. What was Samantha Lewis doing at his penthouse? His phone vibrated. An unknown number. Did you miss me? The coffee cup shattered against the far wall. Brown liquid dripped down the white paint like old blood. Alexander pressed the bullet to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut. The metal left a perfect circular imprint when he pulled it away. Outside, the city woke up. Inside, the war began again.

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Ember walked through the vibrant city market, the cacophony of sounds and kaleidoscope of colors overwhelming her senses. She had spent the morning haggling over prices, searching for affordable produce to stock her pantry. Just as she finalized a deal for a bunch of carrots, her phone rang out, shrill and insistent. Apologizing to the vendor, Ember stepped aside to answer the call, her voice hopeful. "Hello?" The voice on the other end belonged to Miss Tiara from Shadowed Oak. "Miss Ember, we'd like to inform you that you've been offered a job as a waitress at our establishment." Ember's heart skipped a beat as excitement and relief washed over her. Ember concluded the call with Tiara, finalised with the vendor before hurrying to Shadowed Oak. Tiara, the manager, greeted her warmly and led her to a back office to finalize the employment details. After reviewing the contract, Tiara handed her a sleek black uniform adorned with the silver Shadowed Oak logo. "You'll work with our team of waitresses and bartenders," she explained, "and need to wear this uniform while on duty."

Ember took the uniform and made her way to one of the staff lounges. She changed into the uniform, admiring herself in the mirror. The uniform fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves and making her feel confident. As she emerged from the lounge, Ember was greeted by her new colleagues. There was Isla, a petite blonde with a perpetual scowl on her face. "Great, another newbie," Isla said, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure you'll last all of a week." Then there was Roi, a charming but aloof bartender with a chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes. "Welcome to Shadowed Oak," he said, his voice gentle and Ember smiled in return. But the most unfriendly of all was Zia, Tiara's assistant. "You're the new waitress, I presume?" Zia said, her voice icy. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. Don't disappoint me." Ember tried to brush off their hostile attitudes, focusing on her training instead. As she began her first shift, Ember's nerves started to settle. She took orders and served drinks with a smile, not even intending to win over her skeptical colleagues. Just as she was starting to get into the swing of things, someone she was all too familiar with walked into the bar. It was Miles.

Miles was the entertainment industry's notorious playboy, infamous for swiftly charming female celebrities and entrepreneurs who often ranked among the A-list elite. His whirlwind romances captivated the public's attention. Miles was known for his charisma and charm, effortlessly drawing people into his life. His relationships with well known female celebrities and flings were often the subject of fascination. He'd lavish attention and care on these women, making them feel like queens. But as time went on, his interest would wane, leaving them wondering what had changed. Despite his waning interest, many of these women held on tight, reluctant to let go of the ingenuine and mundane connection they'd shared with Miles. They'd cling to the memories of their time together, hoping to recapture the magic. Miles, on the other hand, would move on, his attention already focused on the next person who'd caught his eye. This dynamic left many questioning the nature of Miles' relationships.

Miles's eyes widened in shock as he took in Ember's appearance. She was dressed in a sleek black uniform, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a bright smile on her face. For a moment, Miles forgot to compose himself. "Welcome to Shadowed Oak, Mr. Miles," Ember said, her voice steady. "Right this way, please." Miles followed Ember, still trying to process the situation. As they walked, Ember noticed a woman trailing behind Miles. She was a stunning blonde, with piercing blue eyes and a voluptuous figure. Ember recognized her as Sophia, a model. Sophia's eyes narrowed as she took in Ember's appearance. "Well," Sophia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look who we have here". "Right this way, please," Ember repeated, leading them to a private booth. As they sat down, Sophia couldn't help but make a snide comment. "I must say, Ember, you look...different. I mean__" She trailed off looking her from head to toe. Miles shot Sophia a warning glance, but Ember just laughed lightly. "I'm just trying something new," she said. "What can I get for you tonight?" Miles smiled, "Going with what's available. I'll have a whiskey, neat. And make it double." "Coming right up, Mr. Miles," Ember said, expertly pouring his drink. "And for you, Miss?" Ember asked, turning to Sophia. Sophia smirked. "I'll have a cosmopolitan, sweetheart." "Right away," Ember said. Miles shot Sophia a warning glance again, but Ember continued to smile. "Anything to eat?" Miles asked, "Just the drink for now."

Sophia tapped her fingers against the edge of the booth, her gaze tracking Ember’s movements across the crowded bar. When she approached their table, Sophia leaned back, her lips curving into a practiced smile. "Ember," she said, voice smooth. "I really didn’t expect to see you here. Quite the career shift." Ember set down a fresh round of drinks without hesitation. "People change," she replied evenly. "Though I suppose some things stay the same. Still ordering the most expensive thing on the menu, I see." Sophia’s fingers tightened around her glass. Miles watched the exchange with detached interest, swirling his whiskey before taking a sip. "Let’s just get the check," he said, cutting in before Sophia could retort. His tone left no room for argument. Ember nodded, pulling out the receipt. "I’ll take care of it." Sophia’s jaw clenched, but she stayed silent as Ember walked away.