Chapter 13

When the maid brought up the fish and chips, Samantha had already finished the last bite. "Caitlin, there's a cocktail party tomorrow night. You're going with me." Alexander sat at the head of the dining table, his tone icy as usual. "Not going." Samantha downed the last sip of her cola, let out a satisfied burp, and got up to head upstairs to bed. "I'll be back from a meeting by 2 p.m. tomorrow. I'll take you to pick a dress," Alexander added, completely ignoring her refusal. Samantha didn't bother replying. She just waved him off behind her back, clearly not in the mood to deal with him. "You might actually be interested," Alexander said with a hint of sarcasm flirting at the edge of his lips. "It's a pitch meeting with the Rivers Group about investing in Samerra Designs. The company you built from scratch might be getting funding. Don't you want to see it for yourself?" "Samerra?" Samantha suddenly paused mid-step. That was Caitlin's company. And it was named after her, Caitlin had really missed her... so much that she named her company after her. Her eyes welled up a little. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to snap out of it. Then she turned her head slightly with a calm smile. "Not worried I'll stir up trouble at the party?" "Do what you want—not my problem." Alexander's reply was cold, but inside, he felt a small surge of triumph. Women—just hit the right nerve, and they'd fall in line on their own. "I'll pick the dress myself." Samantha said plainly and turned upstairs. "Sure." Alexander raised an eyebrow, scoffing. He'd be there anyway. After she left, Alexander stared at the plate of fish and chips in front of him. Compared to hers, his version was clearly elevated—crispy beer-battered cod fried to a perfect golden brown, hand-cut fries dusted with sea salt, a side of minted pea purée, and malt vinegar served in a tiny glass dropper, as if it were some rare elixir. A sprig of parsley sat on top, likely for show. He picked up a chip, dipped it lightly, and took a bite. Didn't taste half as good as Samantha's earlier. His brow creased. Time to find a new chef. ... Having stayed up till almost 4 a.m. last night, Samantha was still groggy when she woke up the next day at around eleven. If Ethan hadn't called, she probably would've slept right through lunch. "Sam, can you come down for a bit? My car's parked out front," Ethan's voice sounded low, almost uncertain. "Sure. Give me a few minutes." She ended the call and dragged herself to freshen up. Even though she'd called him out last night for being useless, Samantha didn't actually dislike Ethan. He was someone her sister loved and had entrusted to look after her. He'd been quietly supporting her for years. To Samantha, he was someone she owed. And she'd always believed in paying back what she owed—whether it was kindness or a grudge. After a quick wash, she opened the wardrobe. It was full of her sister's favorite soft linen outfits. She let out a deep sigh. That look Ethan had the other night when she came out wearing her sister's clothes—it said everything. She didn't want to trigger that again. So instead, she headed to the big balcony on the second floor, dug through the clothes drying on the rack, and pulled out a white button-up shirt to throw on. It belonged to Alexander—the size difference was obvious. The sleeves hung past her wrists, and the hem hit mid-thigh. Samantha went back inside, found a wide belt to cinch her waist, threw on some embroidered jeans, and tucked the shirt in casually. Looking in the mirror, she saw someone new looking back—sharp, stunning, and confident. A total boss."Uncle Ethan, what's going on?" Samantha got in the car and went straight to the point. "You and Caitlin look exactly the same, but... you give off such a totally different vibe. It's like night and day." Ethan glanced at her, something flickering in his eyes. "Different personalities, different tastes. It's not that weird. Next time, try not to mix us up," Samantha said bluntly, no sugarcoating. Ethan quickly averted his gaze and gripped the steering wheel. "Sorry... I couldn't help it." Ethan paused, then added, "Can you stop calling me Uncle Ethan? I'm only ten years older than Caitlin." "Ethan," she nodded, cutting him no slack, "What is it?" Ethan seemed to let out a quiet breath of relief. He jumped in, "This afternoon, there's a party hosted by the Rivers. They're planning to discuss investing in Caitlin's company. I got two invites—" "I know. I'm going there with Alexander," Samantha said, calm as ever. A brief shadow crossed Ethan's face. He swallowed hard and asked, sounding a bit puzzled, "Okay then... That's good. It's not a formal meeting—just a talk—so why's Perkins going?" "He knows Caitlin built Samerra Design from scratch. Probably just wants to watch me embarrass myself," Samantha replied with a faint shrug, like it didn't bother her. Ethan nodded, frowning. "Alexander's not exactly easy to deal with. Has he made things hard for you?" "No." Samantha clearly didn't want to get into it. She moved on. "If there's nothing else, just give me a lift. Find a big mall—I need to buy some clothes." "Sure... We're still heading to a Perkins Mall, huh?" Ethan let out a dry chuckle. "It's the top luxury mall in Lichester—owned entirely by his family." "Whatever." Samantha looked out the window, her eyes calm. "I won't wear my sister's clothes anymore. They'll all be packed up properly." Ethan's temples twitched. To lighten the mood, he changed the topic while driving. "You grew up in Farsenia, but your Calverian's still great." "I owe that to the Calverian foster family you found for me. They let me grow up speaking it every day." Her tone was flat. "You just got back, haven't had a chance to try much local food yet, right? Let me treat you to cajun seafood boil for lunch?" "Okay. I'm starving," Samantha replied without hesitation. They found a cajun seafood boil place in the mall and sat down, chatting while waiting for the food. "Caitlin loved cajun seafood boil," Ethan murmured, his voice tinted with regret. "But after marrying into the Perkins family, she told me Alexander hated strong smells. Wasn't allowed at home. She had to sneak out just to eat it every now and then." Mentioning Caitlin stirred something in Samantha. She thought of last night—when Alexander saw her eating fish and chips with malt vinegar and told Mr. Carson to prepare some too. Her lips curled with a trace of sarcasm. "Oh please, like he could actually stay away from it forever." "What do you mean?" Ethan looked confused. "Nothing," Samantha brushed it off. "So, any plans for tonight's party?" Ethan straightened up, his fists tightening. "I want to expose what those people did to Caitlin's company. Once it's out, the Rivers won't invest a dime!" Samantha looked at him like he had two heads, which made Ethan shift awkwardly in his seat. He scratched his cheek. "What... Did I say something wrong?"