Chapter 8

"Is Daniel really your brother?" Samantha asked Damon.

She still couldn't believe that the two were related.

She and Damon were facing each other, currently eating.

"Even though we don't look the same, yes, we are brothers. Why?" Damon asked.

Samantha shrugged. "It just doesn't seem real. Besides the fact that you don't look alike, Daniel seems like a good guy. He's very different from you," she said, and Damon frowned.

"So you like him more than me?" Damon asked and stopped eating to look at her.

"Yes," she answered quickly. "How could I not? He's handsome, kind, not arrogant, and always looks calm and composed, the complete opposite of you," she said before eating the bite that was stuck on her fork.

Damon rested his back against the back of his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at her intently.

"What?" she asked with a furrowed forehead. A few minutes later, he was still staring at her.

"So you like that type of guy?" Damon asked without taking his eyes off her.

"Honestly? Yes," she answered directly.

"What about your boyfriend? Is he like that too?" Damon asked.

Samantha's eyes immediately lit up when she remembered Alfred. "Yes! He's the best boyfriend. He's kind, thoughtful, tender, and loves me dearly. And being good-looking is just a bonus," she answered lovingly.

Her forehead furrowed again when Damon suddenly laughed. One of her eyebrows rose. "Did I say something funny?" she asked.

Damon shook his head while suppressing laughter. "No. It's just that…you looked really in love with your boyfriend just then, yet you still ended up sleeping with me."

Samantha forcefully put down the spoon and fork she was holding.

Damon grinned. "What? Are you going to try to defend yourself again?" he said.

She took a deep breath. It was wrong to fight in front of food, so she decided to just get up and leave. "I'm done eating," she said coldly.

She heard Damon calling her, but she pretended not to hear. She didn't even look back. She just went straight to her room and locked the door. After making sure that the door was locked properly, she quickly walked towards the bed, picked up a pillow, and angrily punched it, imagining that the pillow was Damon's face, only intensifying her anger.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" she shouted repeatedly as she pounded the pillow.

She didn't stop until she finally felt satisfied. She then lay down on the bed, panting. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

The saying that it is painful to accept the truth was definitely true. Because everything that Damon had said was true. Even if she was drunk that night, the fact that she'd had sex with him still wouldn't change.

Alfred's beautiful smiling face entered her mind. And suddenly, she felt guilty. When Alfred found out what happened between her and Damon, Samantha was sure that he'd lose his beautiful smile, and she didn't want that to happen. So she quickly stood up and picked up her cellphone, which she'd laid on the bedside table. She searched for Alfred's name. She was about to call Alfred when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She was sure that it was Damon.

She wanted to ignore Damon, but she couldn't, especially since Damon kept on knocking, so she stood up and angrily opened the bedroom door.

She was about to yell when Damon spoke.

"We've got a problem," Damon said with a serious look on his face.

Samantha's forehead furrowed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Samantha said incredulously as she looked out to sea.

"The yacht is gone? How can it be gone? There's no one else here except us!" Samantha said, almost screaming. "No. This can't be! How will we get home now?" She was already panicking. "Try to call your friends," she suggested.

But Damon immediately shook his head. "There's no cell signal here," he said, making Samantha's eyes widen.

She growled at Damon, "What? Are you kidding me?" She immediately took her cellphone from the pocket of her shorts and was shocked to see that there was no signal. "Why didn't you tell me that there's no signal here?"

Damon shrugged. "I just told you, didn't I?" he answered, making Samantha even more annoyed.

"Oh, please! We have a serious problem here, Damon, so don't give me that bullshit!"

"Seriously? You're talking as if someone is chasing us and might take our lives at any moment. Can you just relax? We've only lost our yacht. We're not going to die," Damon calmly answered.

Her fists clenched. "Just relax? Are you nuts? We've lost our yacht, which is our. Only. Way. Home," she said, emphasizing the last three words.

Damon heaved a deep sigh. "Look, we can still go home. We just have t—"

"And when will that be?" Samantha said, cutting Damon off. "I need to be home tomorrow night. That's what I told my parents, and they'll be worried when I'm not home yet. Alfred will be looking for me too. And we don't even have good reception here!" she said, irritated.

Damon crossed his arms over his chest and raised his brows. "What are you? A teenager? Your parents will understand when we explain to them what happened once we get home," he said.

"So when do you think we can go home?" she asked, still irritated. "And do you think I want to tell my parents that we're together? That it's you I'm with on this island? Ha! Never!"

Damon shrugged. "Then, I'll be the one to tell them," he said as if he didn't care.

Samantha gasped. "You wouldn't do that," she said as if unable to believe what Damon had said.

Damon just grinned. "Try me," he said, then started to leave, walking past her. "Let's go back inside the house. There's nothing we can do anyway. Even if we stand here all day and stare at the sea, we still can't go home," Damon said without even looking at her.

"So that's it? You're not going to try to find a way for us to get home?" she shouted angrily, but Damon just waved her off, still not looking at her, causing her to get even angrier.

She stomped in anger, wanting to throw her cellphone, which she couldn't even use due to the poor reception. With very big steps, she followed Damon, who was nearing the house.

"Isn't there anything else you can do? Isn't there anyone else living here that we can ask for help?" Samantha asked when she was only a few steps away from Damon.

Samantha stopped walking when Damon suddenly turned to face her.

Damon had an annoyed look on his face. "Can you just shut up? No matter how many times you complain, nothing will happen! This is a private island. We are the only ones here. So whether you like it or not, we're stuck here!" he said angrily and then turned his back on her again.

That made her go quiet and still. She just followed Damon with her gaze until he entered the house.

"What's with him? Am I not allowed to be pissed and worried?" she whispered through gritted teeth.

She looked at the ocean again, a worried look on her face.

Her parents would be worried when she didn't return home tomorrow night. And Alfred, her boyfriend, would look for her.

She spent a few more minutes looking at the sea before heading to the house. When she entered, she found Damon sitting on the sofa, reading a book.

She was about to ignore him and go up to her room when Damon called to her.

With one eyebrow raised, she faced him. "What?" she said in a loud and pissed voice.

Damon's forehead furrowed. "Is it your hobby to yell at me?" he asked. "Anyway, sit here." Damon tapped the space next to him.

Her forehead furrowed even more as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you asking me to sit beside you?"

"If it's not already obvious, then yes, I am asking you to sit"—he tapped the space again—"here."

"And what makes you think I'll do that? Would you please stop pissing me off already? I'm starting to lose my patience," she said.

"That's not what I've been doing though. You're the one who gets pissed at me every time for no reason," Damon said, sounding innocent, and God knew how much Samantha wanted to slap his face.

But she held back. She was tired of arguing with him today. What she wanted to do right now was go back to her room and take a nap. So she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. But she immediately opened her eyes again when Damon spoke up.

"Aww. That look on your face, it's exactly the same face you were making that night. Eyes closed, breathing heavily as I thrust my cock deep inside of your pussy," Damon said, grinning from ear to ear.

Samantha knew that Damon was trying to annoy her even more. But she wouldn't let him under her skin anymore—if she did, it would only cause her more suffering.

Just calm down, Samantha. Just take a deep breath and calm down. Ignore that idiot. Don't let him win, she silently told herself.

When she opened her eyes, she gave Damon a sharp stare. He was still grinning and staring at her.

"Talk to me again when you have something nice to say," she said and went up to the second floor.

Damon called her a few more times, but she didn't even look back. And when she entered her room, she quickly closed the door and made sure it was locked. She then took a few more deep breaths to calm herself.

Her patience really wouldn't last long trapped here with Damon.

She lay down on her bed, her eyes fixed on the white ceiling. She took out her cell phone from the pocket of her shorts and looked at it.

Still no signal.

In her annoyance, she threw her cellphone onto the bed.

She closed her eyes and placed her right arm over her face. "I need to go home," she whispered.

She stayed in that position until she finally fell asleep. When she woke up, she found herself lying sideways on her bed with a blanket around her body.

She was shocked to discover that it wasn't just the blanket wrapped around her body but also the arm and leg of the man next to her on the bed, who was none other than Damon. What was worse was his body was so close to hers that she could feel his hot and tingling breath on her neck.

She tried to remove Damon's arm from her waist, but instead, Damon just moved his palm to her breast, fondling. She gasped in surprise when she felt the gradual hardening of his manhood against her ass.

What the fuck?