Page 49 of Sin Bin Bully

She lets out a shaky breath, then surprises me by pressing her lips to mine. It's soft, tentative, but it sets me on fire.

When she pulls back, her eyes are shining. "Thank you, Sam."

I shake my head, stroking her cheek with my thumb. "Don't thank me. I'd do anything for you, Kim. Anything."

And I realize in just that moment how literal I mean it. Which can only mean one thing.

22

KIM

Kim

Iwake up alone, the silk sheets cool against my skin. Sam's absence is palpable, the lingering scent of his cologne the only evidence he was ever here. Stretching, I slide out of bed, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. My eyes dart to the clock, and I see it's the middle of the night.

The house is quiet as I pad down the hallway, searching for Sam. I find him in his study, hunched over his desk, papers scattered everywhere.

"Hey," I say, my voice breaking the silence. "Why are you up?"

Sam looks up, his gray eyes meeting mine. His expression is blank, guarded. It's like looking at a stranger.

"Sam?" I take a step closer, confusion creeping in. "You okay?"

He doesn't respond, just stares at me with that unreadable look. The air feels thick, heavy with unspoken words.

"Did something happen?" I ask, wrapping my arms around myself. The chill in the room has nothing to do with temperature.

He moves around the desk, closing the distance between us. His proximity should be comforting, but instead, it feels threatening.

Without a word, he hands me a check. I glance down, and my breath catches when I see the amount – two million dollars. My eyes snap back to his, wide with surprise and confusion.

But then I remember his mother's words. Two million dollars. She offered me two million to not press charges against him when he let me go, and I didn't yesterday.

"You are free to leave," he says, his voice as impersonal and distant as ever. It's like he's closing a door, shutting down any possibility of anything real.

I stare at the check in my hand, the weight of it heavy and unreal.

"Sam, I—" I start, but the words die in my throat. He turns his back to me, perhaps to mask whatever flicker of emotion might slip through.

Why would he do this? And why does it fucking hurt? It's like an insult after he held me all night, after he told me he would do anything for me…

And I guess he's showing me that now. By letting me go.

I find myself moving before I can think it through. My hand reaches out and catches his arm, halting his retreat. He turns slowly, his eyes hardening as they meet mine.

"Just take the check and?—"

I cut him off with my lips on his.

It’s impulsive, reckless even, but I pour all my confusion, gratitude, and the weird mix of emotions I've been bottling up into that kiss. For a moment, his lips are unresponsive, and I fear I've made a terrible mistake.

But then, something changes. His rigidity melts away, and he kisses me back, tender yet hesitant, as if he’s afraid to let go completely.

When we finally pull apart, his eyes are searching mine under a new light, filled with questions and unspoken feelings. His hand, which was clenched in a fist, slowly relaxes and brushes against my cheek, the touch sending shivers down my spine.

"Kim..." he begins, his voice now softer, more vulnerable than I've ever heard it.

I shake my head. "It's not about the money, Sam.”