THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.
Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Chapter 57

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.

He took a few deep breaths and rubbed his hands together to calm his nerves. "Keep it together," he muttered under his breath. "Stay clean. Stay perfect."

Just then, a voice echoed behind him. "Sir... um..."

Samuel turned quickly. It was one of his men—a lanky photographer wearing a hoodie and carrying a compact camera, now lowered to his side.

The man looked hesitant as he spoke. "I... I wasn’t able to get a clean shot, sir. Not a good one. The angle was off, and the guy—he blocked you most of the time. I got a video, but... honestly, it kind of looks like you were forcing yourself into her space."

Samuel’s face twitched.

The man quickly added, "It’s not what really happened, of course! But the way it looks on video... it could be taken the wrong way, sir."

Samuel clenched his fists slightly but didn’t explode this time. He shut his eyes for a second, then reopened them with a calm, icy stare.

"Delete it," he said.

The man blinked. "Sir?"

"I said delete it," Samuel repeated, this time more firmly. "That footage is useless. It’s not what we needed. Get rid of it. I want no trace of that scene left anywhere. Got it?"

The man nodded rapidly and began fumbling with his camera. "Yes, sir. Right away."

Samuel turned away, silent again. His jaw locked tightly as he walked toward his black SUV waiting.

Everything was slipping out of control. And now, the mystery man—had humiliated him in front of Cora, ruined his plan, and even managed to win her attention effortlessly.

Who the hell was he?

Samuel slid into the backseat of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

At that moment, Samuel slowly shifted in his seat, resting his elbow against the door and tapping his finger against his lips in thought. His expression was cold, but focused—calculated. The flames of anger were no longer burning on the surface, but underneath, a storm was brewing.

He turned slightly toward the man standing across from him—the photographer he had hired. With a low voice, sharp and deliberate, Samuel said, "I don’t need you for anything else tonight. You’re dismissed for now. But don’t get too comfortable..."

Hearing what Samuel just said the man blinked, unsure what Samuel meant.

Samuel leaned forward slightly, voice growing firmer. "There’s another assignment. Urgent one. You’re free now, so I need you to get started on it immediately."

The man straightened up, nodding quickly. "Yes, sir."

Samuel narrowed his eyes. "You still have the picture of the guy who interrupted me back there? The one who stepped in between me and Cora?"

"Yes, sir," the man replied. "I snapped a few clear shots of him as he pulled Cora away. I still have them saved."

"Good," Samuel muttered, his tone tight. "I want everything on him. And I mean everything. His name. Where he lives. What he does for a living. What family he comes from. Who his friends are. Where he goes, what he eats, what he breathes. If he has a criminal record or even a childhood injury, I want to know it."

The investigator’s eyes widened a bit at the intensity of the request, but he nodded without hesitation.

"I’ll start digging immediately, sir," he said.

Samuel stared out of the window, his voice low and ice-cold. "Latest tomorrow morning. I want the full report on my desk. No excuses. I don’t care how long you have to stay up this night. I want to know who the hell that guy is... and why Cora allowed him to touch her."

At that moment, the man nodded sharply and bowed low—exactly 90 degrees in a formal, respectful manner. His voice was steady and filled with urgency, "I won’t disappoint you, sir. I’ll work through the night, and by morning, everything you requested will be on your table. Every single detail."

Samuel didn’t even offer a glance. He simply reached for the window switch and began winding the glass up slowly. Just before it sealed, his voice came through—calm but commanding. "Once the job is done, your payment will be transferred. You’re dismissed."

The glass sealed with a soft click, and within seconds, the sleek, black car rolled away, leaving the man standing alone in the dim light of the quiet lot. He immediately pulled out his phone and began his task—knowing failure was not an option.

—

Scene Shift

Now inside Oliver’s car, the interior was warm and quiet, the faint hum of the engine blending with the soft background of the road beneath the tires.

Cora sat quietly in the passenger seat, Oliver’s jacket wrapped gently around her shoulders. Her hands were tucked beneath the fabric, but her mind was clearly elsewhere—her expression unreadable, her gaze unfocused on the passing lights outside.

Oliver finally broke the silence. He gave her a quick glance before focusing back on the road.

"That wasn’t like you," he said.

Cora blinked and turned slightly toward him, confused. "What?"

"That scene back there," Oliver continued, "That guy—Samuel or whatever his name is. He was forcing his jacket on you, and you clearly didn’t want it. I was honestly expecting you to slap the hell out of him."

A soft, tired sigh escaped Cora’s lips. She leaned back against the seat and looked out the window again. "I thought about it... believe me."

Oliver raised a brow. "So why didn’t you?"