New York – 3:25 p.m.
Samantha leaned back in the leather seat, her eyes fixed on the city skyline as it stretched endlessly through the tinted window. Her phone buzzing but she didn't reach for it.
Jake, seated beside her, studied her quietly. "You ready for this?"
"I've been ready for seven years," she said coldly, her gaze never leaving the glass. "It's time to collect."
As the car slowed near one of the city's most luxurious malls, Samantha caught sight of it through the window and gave a quiet order.
"Pull over."
The sleek black Rolls-Royce gleamed in a refined parking area. Samantha adjusted the strap of her handbag, her diamond-studded watch catching the sunlight. She opened the door herself.
"You guys wait here. I'll be back shortly," she said without looking back.
Jake raised a brow. "Want me to come with—"
"No. I want to be alone."
Samantha stepped onto the pavement, her black heels tapping confidently across the polished marble tiles. She adjusted her sunglasses, stealing a brief glance at her reflection in the shopfront—flawless skin, crimson lips, composure carved from steel. The woman staring back wasn't Ally Miller. This was Samantha Bradley.
She pushed the glass doors open and entered the mall.
Inside, the scent of leather and expensive perfume mingled in the air. She browsed casually, picking out a few items before heading toward the cashier. But just as she turned a corner—
Crash.
She collided with someone. Her shopping bag and clutch dropped, items spilling onto the floor.
"I'm so sorry, miss," a deep voice said.
Samantha knelt instinctively, lifting her head—and froze.
Nick Carter.
His face hadn't changed. That same smooth charm, confident stance. But the man looking at her now had no idea who she was.
Her heart kicked once in her chest—but she didn't flinch. She gathered herself quickly, masked her expression, and straightened.
Nick was still staring. Mesmerized.
"Hi," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Nick."
She stared at the hand for a few seconds. Then finally spoke.
"I... I'm Samantha," she replied, removing her sunglasses slowly.
The red lipstick painted across her mouth felt suddenly heavy under his gaze, but she didn't waver. Rage boiled deep beneath her polished exterior, but she pushed it down. Not yet. Not here.
Nick didn't recognize her. That was good.
"I really am sorry," he said. "Let me pay for the damage."
She didn't argue. He signaled to a nearby attendant.
"This lady will take care of it," he said, gesturing to the store's assistant manager.
"Please follow me, ma'am," the woman said politely.
As Samantha waited near the payment counter, a small, high-pitched voice rang out behind her.
"Daddy!"
Samantha turned just slightly—enough to see a young girl, about six years old, running into Nick's arms with a bag of toys in hand.
Kate Adams followed behind, pushing a half-full cart and smiling. Her perfectly curled hair bounced with every step.
"Look, Mommy and I bought lots of toys!" the child beamed.
Nick lifted his daughter effortlessly, laughing. "Did you?"
Samantha's eyes narrowed, though her face remained composed. Her jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the strap of her bag.
Kate walked over and planted a kiss on Nick's cheek, then looked at Samantha. "Who's this?"
Nick smiled casually. "This is Samantha. We just bumped into each other."
Kate's eyes swept over her. "Oh... I see."
Samantha nodded politely, her voice cool. "I should get going. I'm running late."
She turned to leave—but Nick's voice stopped her.
"Wait," he said, digging into his wallet. "Here's my card."
She took it without a word and walked away quickly, heels clicking with renewed purpose.
She didn't stop until she reached the car. Her chest rose and fell sharply as she opened the door and slid inside. Her entire body trembled—not with fear, but fury.
Jake looked up from his tablet. "Samantha? What happened? You look pale."
She didn't answer. She clutched the card tighter, as if it burned her skin.
"Jake... get out," she said quietly.
"What?"
"Get out. I want to be alone. You too, Lynn—take another car. I said I want to be alone."
Jake stared at her, concerned, but nodded. "Alright. I'll call the other driver."
Samantha turned to the chauffeur. "Drive."
As the car pulled into traffic, her fingers curled tighter around Nick's business card. Her heart thundered beneath her ribs. Seven years. Seven long years. And now the war had begun. ***. Later That Evening
Bradley Estate – Private Study
Samantha stood alone beside one of the tall windows of her father's home, her silhouette outlined by the golden haze of New York City lights. From this height, the world looked manageable—neat, organized, silent. Yet her mind was anything but.
Nick's business card lay untouched on the desk beside a half-filled glass of red wine. Her fingers had brushed it a dozen times, yet she couldn't bring herself to pick it up.
Her jaw tightened.
"That little girl," she whispered to herself. "Carter's heir. She has a life… a family. Everything that was ripped from me."
A soft knock disturbed the silence. Gentle. Hesitant.
"Come in," she said without turning.
Jake stepped inside, quiet as always, a folder tucked beneath his arm. He closed the door and placed the file on the desk, watching her for a moment before speaking.
"Sam… what happened at the mall?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.
She turned slowly, her expression unreadable. She picked up the folder and began flipping through its contents, her eyes scanning the documents without truly seeing.
"You know what, Jake?" she said finally, her tone tight. "I've felt a lot of anger over the past seven years. At people. At memories. At myself. But today… today was different."
Jake leaned forward slightly. "Different how?"
"I saw them," she said flatly. "Nick. Kate. And their daughter."
He paused. "Did they recognize you?"
"No. And that's the only reason I stayed standing."
She exhaled sharply, turning a page in the file. The fury burning inside her was simmering just beneath the surface.
"Anyway," she said, collecting herself. "Back to business."
She focused on the file again. "Is this accurate?"
"Yes," Jake replied. "Everything our investigator could gather on Kate and Nick's financial activities. And…" he hesitated, "there's something else. Something you'll want to see."
She looked up. "Go on."
"Chloe Carter," Jake said. "She's been embezzling funds from the Carter Corporation through a shell company. It's bigger than we thought."
Samantha's hand froze on the page. Then she turned fully, her voice sharp and steady.
"Good," she said coldly. "I want every thread pulled. Every lie, every number, every cover-up. I want to know what each and every member in that mansion is hiding."
Jake nodded. "What about Nick?"
She turned her gaze back to the glowing city below, her voice dropping to ice.
"I'll let him walk right into my hands."