At that moment, Samuel slowly turned his head, eyes scanning his surroundings with precision. His breath was still heavy from the outburst, but his instincts kicked in—he needed to regain composure fast. His chest rose and fell as he exhaled, forcing his anger deep down. That little tantrum could cost him everything if anyone had caught it.
He straightened his jacket, adjusted his wristwatch, and took a slow, calculated step away from the overturned trash can. With one final glance over his shoulder, he carefully set the trash upright again, making it seem as though nothing had happened.
Samuel had always maintained a spotless image in the public eye—charming, well-mannered, controlled. That persona had earned him countless deals, fan admiration, and corporate trust. The last thing he needed was footage of him shouting and kicking things like a madman in a dark parking lot. No. That could never get out.
