Chapter 7 Vicky motioned for the assistant to clean up and tried to calm her. "Samantha, Mr. Powers really cares about you. He knows you lied about the cut, and he didn't say anything."

"If you'd seen how he treated my sister, you wouldn't be saying that. One day, I'll take her place. I'll be the one he actually loves," Samantha said through gritted teeth.

Then she turned to vicky. "Are the paparazzi in position?"

"Yes. They'll get shots of Mr. Powers leaving the hospital."

Samantha leaned back against the pillows, her eyes gleaming with calculation.

Meanwhile, tony was looking for Amore.

Out of the hospital, he called her. "Where are you?"

"I took a cab back to the mansion," she said.

"Grandpa's old. Can you stop using his affection to get your way?" Tony's voice rose angrily.

The silence stretched so long that Tony thought Amore had hung up.

He checked the screen—the call was still on.

Just as he opened his mouth, her voice came through, soft and unsure.

"When Anthon called earlier, he coughed. I got worried, so I grabbed some medicine and dropped it off. That's all."

She hung up before he could respond.

Tony stared at the phone, caught off guard. He hadn't even noticed Anthon was feeling sick.

When he stepped into the living room, Amore was playing chess with Anthon.

"No, no, no. That was an accident. I meant to move here," Anthon muttered.

"Anthon, you can't just take moves back."

"I know how to play," he insisted. "It really was an accident."

Amore sighed. "You've used that excuse three times now."

"Mr. Tony is back," a servant announced.

Amore turned instinctively. Tony was standing off to the side, straight-backed, watching them.

Her fingers loosened. The chess piece slipped from her hand and landed with a soft clack, breaking the game.

She turned back, a little sheepish. "Sorry, Anthon. I messed it up."

Anthon let out a breath and smiled. "It's fine. We'll play again next time."

Tony walked over. "Grandpa, how are you feeling? Anything bothering you?"

"Just a couple of coughs. But Amore's so thoughtful; even the smallest thing gets her worried. She left halfway through your date just to check on me."

He took Tony's hand and continued, "Tony, she's a good girl. Don't let that woman mess that up. You hear me?"

"Grandpa, Samantha's not..."

Anthon doubled over in a rough cough.

Amore rushed over, patting his back, trying to ease it.

"This is what happens when you get old," he sighed, his back no longer as straight as it once was.

Tears welled in Amore's eyes. "Don't say that. You're not old."

He smiled, letting her help him back to his room.

Lying back on his bed, he took her hand and spoke softly. "My dear, I know tony hasn't treated you right these past few years. But for my sake, give him another chance. One day, he'll get it and realize you're the one who belongs with him."

She gave a small nod, but deep down, she wasn't sure that day would ever come.

She stayed until he fell asleep.

When she got home, Tony was out on the balcony, phone to his ear. She heard him say "Samy" in a low, tender voice.

It was Samantha again.

Only Samantha could make him sound like that.

Amore changed into pajamas and curled up under the covers.

She was exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. Her temples started throbbing.

Eventually, tony came to bed.

His breath brushed against her skin, tempting her to lean closer.

But she stayed put, not even sure what she was resisting anymore.

Tony liked Samantha and hated her, which was nothing new, but it had left her miserable all day.

He stared at her back like he could burn a hole through it.

The few times they'd shared a bed, she'd always inched closer. Even when he pushed her away, she stayed. But tonight, she didn't move.

She just stayed at the edge.