Chapter 97: Samson’s torment
"Oh really, big bro? So what—you actually expect me to kiss your woman?" Samson shot back, his voice a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
At that, Tryson’s expression darkened, his fingers tightening slightly around the phone. A cold, dangerous silence stretched between them.
"What did you just say?" Tryson asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.
His grip tightened around the phone as his jaw clenched, his pulse quickening at Samson’s words.
"Yes, Tryson. And besides, I told you from the very beginning that I didn’t want to do this. But you were too insistent." Samson’s tone carried both frustration and resignation. "I warned you that I wasn’t the right person for this job, but you pushed me into it anyway. And now, I can’t help but wonder—do you also kiss so casually that she thinks it’s just another game, another moment of fun?"
Tryson’s expression darkened.
For a brief moment, he lowered his head, massaging his forehead as he exhaled sharply. When he spoke, his voice was controlled but firm.
"You know I never meddle in your love life, so let’s not make this personal." His tone was deceptively light, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "And listen, Samson, I don’t ever want to see your lips anywhere near my woman. Find your own, or you might end up regretting it the second I find out you even tried."
Samson scoffed, shaking his head. "You think I’d actually kiss a woman like her, Tryson? Please. I’m only doing this because you asked me to. And now, I’m stuck figuring out how to walk away without raising suspicion or setting her off."
Tryson exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You know what? Just come out of the suite. I’ll be there as soon as you step out, and you can make an excuse to leave." His voice softened, but the tension between them lingered.
Before Samson could respond, a knock echoed against the door, followed by a voice that made his entire body stiffen.