CHAPTER 146: CHAPTER 146

At that moment, Samuel forced himself to lean forward and wrap his arms around Rebecca. On the outside, it looked like a tender, reconciliatory hug, a gesture meant to seal his words and assure her of his sincerity. But inside, Samuel was calculating every second, his body tense as a bowstring. He subtly tilted his head away from hers, holding his breath as much as he could. He didn’t want to inhale a single whiff of her scent.

In his mind, he could tell she stank. Not just a little, but enough to make his nose twitch. Her hair carried a musty smell, her breath lingered in the air in a way that made his chest tighten. He made sure his cheek barely touched hers, keeping his face just far enough to avoid any of it. This hug wasn’t about affection, it was about sealing the trap.

Then after a few seconds, he released her and masked his relief with a soft smile.

"I’ll be waiting for you," he told her, his tone gentle. "Once the press conference is over, we’ll talk. We’ll get back to how we were. You know that’s what’s best for us as a family."

Rebecca, still clinging to the belief that Samuel’s promises were genuine, nodded in agreement. She reassured him there would be no problem. She would do it. She believed in him, she believed in them. Somewhere in his flow of words, Samuel even slipped in, "I’ve missed you so much... I can’t wait to have you around all the time." It was the perfect bait, emotional enough to keep her hooked.

Then he glanced at his watch and straightened his posture. "I have something very important to take care of," he added. "I’ll be waiting for you at home."

Rebecca accepted this without question.

Samuel turned and left, his footsteps brisk. His secretary fell into step behind him as they exited the house.

The moment they reached his sleek black car, Samuel’s façade cracked. As soon as the door closed, he pulled out his neatly folded handkerchief and began vigorously wiping his hands, then his face. He took in a long, deep breath, finally free from the suffocating restraint he’d maintained during that hug.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath. "The whole time, I had to hold it in." He shook his head, almost in disbelief. "I never realized she smelled that bad. And just imagine me, Samuel, the number one actor in the country stooping so low as to have that in my house? Never. That is never going to happen."

In his mind, the pieces were already locked in place. Once she did that press conference, she would have essentially destroyed herself. She would have double-crossed her own credibility. And even if she tried to come out later to take it back, nobody would believe her. The public would just think she was unstable, that she had some personal problem.

"As for the DNA..." Samuel’s eyes narrowed. "I’ll find a way to bury that. It will never see the light of day."

Yes, with this, he thought, he had successfully dealt with Rebecca. The trap was set, the damage was guaranteed.

Then he turned to his secretary, his voice calm but laced with intent. "After that," he said slowly, "I have another plan."

At that moment, Samuel’s manager slowly turned to face him, her brows slightly knitted as if trying to read between the lines of his earlier statement.

"What’s this other plan you’re talking about?" she asked, her voice low, almost cautious. She knew Samuel well enough to recognize when his mind was wandering into dangerous territory.

Samuel leaned back in his seat, one hand resting on his knee, the other casually tapping against the car door. A faint, cold smile touched his lips.

"Well," he began in a tone that carried both nostalgia and menace, "you remember the last time we had to deal with a... problem." His eyes narrowed slightly. "You did a very good job. In fact, I never wanted to use that method again. But sometimes... critical conditions require critical action."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching her face to see if she was catching on.

"I hope you still remember how we dealt with Elvis."

The name alone made his manager’s lips twitch in recognition.

Samuel’s voice sharpened, his tone laced with a faint bitterness. "Elvis thought he could go toe-to-toe with me in acting. He started taking roles that were mine. Not because they were offered to him by mistake, but because of his so-called ’acting skills.’ He thought he could outshine me, take what was supposed to be mine." Samuel’s hand curled into a loose fist. "And you remember what we did to him."

His manager’s gaze turned colder, her lips parting slightly. "Of course I remember," she said with a nod. "We just had to... give him a few scars. Something to break his spirit. We hit him where it hurt—not enough to kill, but enough to make him wish he’d never crossed you. And it worked. Perfectly."

She leaned back in her seat, recalling the outcome. "Ever since that accident, Elvis has never shown his face again. Not in the industry. Not even on social media. It’s like he disappeared completely. People barely remember his name now."

At that moment Samuel gave a slow, approving smile. "Exactly. And that," he said, pointing a finger as if marking the air, "is what I need again. Only this time... I’m not talking about scars. I’m not talking about an injury. I’m talking about removing her from the picture entirely."

Then the manager’s head tilted, her eyes narrowing. "When you say ’remove’..." she let the word trail off, studying his expression. "You mean you want her... dead?"

Samuel didn’t hesitate. He nodded once, firmly. "Yes. Dead. Gone. Not injured, not humiliated, gone. Her life is already broken. She’s already injured. Now I want her gone for good."

His voice was cold now, stripped of all pretense. "The moment she finishes that press conference once she stands in front of the cameras and tells the world she lied she’ll be planning to come to luxury Estate. She’ll think she’s walking into safety." He chuckled darkly. "But she won’t make it that far. I don’t even want her setting foot in my estate."

He leaned closer to his manager, his tone quiet but venomous. "Just take her away. Permanently. No mess, no trace. Swift, clean, and silent. People will think she made the announcement and then ran away out of shame. No one will suspect a thing. No one will know we had a hand in it."

His eyes hardened into steel. "I just want her gone. I want her dead."