Chapter 173 Under the Thumb
The moment Felix passed through security, he tightened his grip on the pendant hanging around his neck.
It was Amelia's.
She had given it to him before he left home.
He knew what it meant.
This was Amelia's last chance for him.
This time, he wouldn't mess up again!
Amelia watched Felix leave, her expression complicated.
Samuel, standing beside her, had come with her to see Felix off.
He had also sent two people to go to the island with Felix.
Catching the look on her face, Samuel said, "If you're sad and can't bear to let him go, I'll have him come back right now."
Without Felix, he could choose someone else for the job.
Amelia shook her head.
"I'm not reluctant to let him go."
She wasn't sad either.
Because she and Felix weren't that close.
She was just thinking—if Felix hadn't lost her back then, would she still be who she is now?
Would the system have still chosen her, making her travel through hundreds of parallel spaces and learn so many skills?
And which did she actually prefer—being who she is now, or being a little princess raised and protected by the Richardson family since childhood?
Amelia's mind was a mess.
Because she didn't know the answer herself.
All she could do was accept the present and look forward.
"If you're not reluctant, why do you look unhappy?"
Amelia shrugged. "Because I'm thinking about who I should send to investigate the Combat Arts Hall now that Felix is gone."
Samuel stepped closer to her.
"There's someone right in front of you who can help."
"You? Forget it, I'll do it myself."
"Looking down on me?"
"No," Amelia said bluntly. "It's not a hard job for you, but you've been avoiding it. Isn't that because the higher-ups already suspect Lloyd is working for you, and you've been keeping your distance to avoid raising suspicion?"
Samuel gave a bitter laugh.
"Can't hide anything from you."
Amelia shrugged again.
"So don't worry about this. I'll handle it myself."
If the Combat Arts Hall weren't completely eliminated, it would always be a threat.
But right now, the Shadow Operations Division was still hiding its strength, so it wasn't appropriate to use their people in Goldenvale.
However, while she couldn't use the Shadow Operations Division, not everyone in the Iron Fist Mafia was useless.
"Fine, but don't push yourself too hard. If you feel you can't handle it, come find me anytime."
After a moment of silence, Amelia said, "Thanks."
Samuel held out his hand to her.
"I don't like verbal thanks. Where's the gift you were supposed to buy me? Did you get it?"
Amelia choked.
She had completely forgotten about that.
"Still choosing," she said. "You have everything already. I don't know what to buy."
"Anything's fine. I'm not picky."
As long as she chose it, anything would be good.
Leaving the airport, Samuel drove her home.
"I've already taken care of the Armstrong family for you."
Amelia glanced at him and asked, "What did you promise them? What could make them not even pursue Niamh's death?"
"Me promise them something?"
Samuel smiled. "You should be asking what they promised me."
Amelia gave him a puzzled look.
So Samuel explained.
After leaving the Royal Stirling Racecourse yesterday, Samuel had gone to the Armstrong family.
It wasn't what Amelia thought—going to promise Floyd benefits so he wouldn't investigate Niamh's death further.
Instead, as soon as he arrived at the Armstrong family home, he ordered York to smash everything breakable in the living room—except Niamh's body.
Not that he was afraid to, but smashing a corpse would be bad luck.
Floyd was scared out of his wits.
Amelia was also surprised.
"What was the point of that? You threatened them?"
Samuel smiled. "Amelia, you're not devious enough, so you can't guess my intention."
After he explained further, Amelia finally understood.
Samuel had gone to hold them accountable.
Once news of Niamh's death got out, it would cause huge losses for the racecourse.
So he was "angry," blaming Floyd for not properly controlling his daughter.
"The more I acted this way, the less Floyd would suspect Niamh's death had anything to do with you or me. On the contrary, if I'd gone in trying to make nice, given Floyd and Niamh's similar level of intelligence, he might actually have fought back, even knowing he couldn't gain anything from it, just to investigate the matter thoroughly."
Amelia understood.
Samuel continued, "Not only won't he investigate further now, but he'll also help me suppress the news of his daughter dying at the racecourse. He's already told everyone his daughter died in a car accident."
"You're really... really..." She couldn't find the right word to describe him.
"You think I'm scary?"
Amelia shook her head.
"I'm the one who got Niamh killed. How am I any better than you?"
Samuel corrected her: "You didn't kill her. She killed herself. If she hadn't rigged your horse, she wouldn't be dead. And even if she came back as a ghost for revenge, the first person she'd go after would be Yasmin."
Amelia said noncommittally, "You're good at comforting people. Did you comfort other girls this way before?"
Samuel's hands on the steering wheel froze, and a gleam suddenly appeared in his eyes.
"Are you jealous?"
Amelia's ears grew hot.
She didn't know why she'd suddenly asked that question.
Then she heard Samuel say, "Don't worry. You're the first woman I've ever liked, and you'll be the last, so I've never comforted any other woman."
"I wasn't worried..."
She looked away, her expression cold.
But Samuel clearly saw her ears had turned completely red.
His guess was right.
Amelia used coldness to hide her shyness.
She really was worthy of being the woman Samuel had chosen—even her shyness was different from others.
The car drove all the way back to the Richardson family home. Amelia told him to wait, then quickly ran upstairs.
Samuel was puzzled, then saw Amelia come down carrying a bag.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Look at it yourself when you get back." She tossed the bag onto the passenger seat and ran off.
Samuel watched her return to the villa before opening the bag.
Inside was a bottle of shampoo.
He picked it up and smelled it—it was exactly Amelia's scent.
He'd thought Amelia had forgotten her promise to make him shampoo, but she'd remembered.
He flashed a smile, his usually cold eyes taking on a rare warmth, like sunlight rippling across a frozen pond.
After meeting Amelia, he'd been smiling much more than before.
His past experiences had made him gloomy and cold.
Now Amelia's appearance was like a beam of sunlight, penetrating through thick soil to reach the frozen layer below.
That evening when he returned to Rosevale Manor, he didn't even bother with dinner before heading to the bathroom for a shower.
Using the shampoo Amelia had made.
Steam filled the bathroom, fogging up the glass door.
He stood under the showerhead, water washing over muscles that had been tense all day.
The air was filled with Amelia's moonbell vine scent.
Water streamed over his eyebrows, slid down his well-defined chest, past his abs and lower...
The sound of water in his ears was like hypnotic notes.
He closed his eyes, as if seeing Amelia right in front of him.
His fingers unconsciously followed the water down toward his lower abdomen...
He couldn't help wondering what it would be like if they were Amelia's fingers.
He'd observed Amelia's hands before.
When she was treating Roman.
Those hands were slender and clean, nails trimmed round and neat, no fancy manicure, just a healthy pink glow.
If that hand were hers, she'd probably be so nervous her ears would turn red, her fingers ice cold.
But they'd quickly warm up from his burning body heat.
His breathing gradually grew heavier, but just then someone knocked loudly on the bathroom door.
"Samuel, come out quick! I've got good news for you!"
Damn it...
Samuel's eyes snapped open.
Glancing at the mirror opposite the glass door, he saw that his eyes were red at the corners.
"Get out!" he said.
The voice outside quickly disappeared.
Samuel punched the tiled wall.
Water droplets splattered, but the pain in his hand brought him back to his senses in the shortest time possible.
He roughly grabbed a towel to dry off, then put on a bathrobe and went out with a dark expression.
In the living room.
Yosef had found Samuel's private stash of fine wine and was about to pour himself a glass when a large hand suddenly took the bottle away.
Samuel threw the bottle straight into the trash.
Yosef turned around in shock to see Samuel radiating hostility, looking ready to kill someone.
He was startled, but his peripheral vision caught Samuel's bathrobe...
There was an obvious bulge underneath.
As a fellow man, he immediately understood why Samuel was so angry.
His timing was bad.
But hadn't Samuel been into that sort of thing before?
Had he misjudged?
"You'd better have something valuable to say."
Samuel's voice was ice-cold and sharp, as if it could cut.
"Samuel... don't be rash. Impulse is the devil."
"Get to the point."
Afraid of truly angering Samuel, Yosef quickly said, "Didn't you ask me to help you pursue Amelia? I found out she had a boyfriend before, and she got hurt in that relationship, which is why she doesn't have feelings for you now—or any man."
Samuel lit a cigarette expressionlessly, and the fire in his heart subsided a bit.
"That's what you came to tell me?"
Yosef looked at him in shock.
"You already knew?"
"She mentioned it to me."
"But do you know who the guy was?"
Samuel shook his head.
Yosef was even more surprised.
"You never looked into it?"
Samuel pulled out a chair and sat down, exhaling smoke. "I promised her I wouldn't investigate anything about her."
Yosef sighed.
"You're not even together yet, and you're already under her thumb. What'll you be like when you actually get married?"
"Being under my wife's thumb isn't a bad thing."
His experiences had made him different from other men.
Back when he was still an illegitimate child, no one even cared if he lived or died.
Back then, what he wanted most was for someone to care about him.
It was the same now.
Of course, now it wasn't that no one cared about him—it was that no one dared to.