An Ex-Thug Chased by Enchanting Billionaire Women

Chapter 8: A Midnight Rescue

Samson hesitated. Should he step forward or return to the pavilion? This wasn't his private area. He eventually chose to leave; he didn't need to interfere in matters that weren't part of his duty. His focus needed to remain solely on Ms. Rose, his employer.

However, after only a few steps, he heard the sound of something hitting the water.

Splash!

Startled, Samson spun around. His eyes widened as he saw Itari’s body sink into the deep pool. She wasn't swimming; she was vanishing beneath the surface.

"Madam Itari?" Samson called out in a panic, racing toward the pool. He saw her black hair and body drifting toward the bottom.

"Madam!" he called again. "Good God, what do I do?" Samson was in a total state of panic.

He didn't have time to think twice. Although he knew that touching a member of the employer's family could lead to massive trouble, letting someone drown before his eyes was not the way of a man, especially not a former king of the marketplace.

Byurrr!

Samson dove into the pool fully clothed. The frigid water immediately soaked into his black t-shirt, making it feel heavy. He dove deep to the bottom, quickly grabbed Itari by the waist, and pulled her to the surface.

"Madam! Wake up, Madam!" Samson shouted as he hauled her body to the edge of the pool.

She was unconscious, her face deathly pale. Samson lifted her light frame onto the marble floor at the poolside. Breathless, he patted her cheeks. "Madam Itari! Wake up!"

There was no response. Her lips were beginning to turn blue. In the emergency, Samson recalled a scene from a soap opera his mother used to watch. He immediately performed chest compressions to clear any water that might be blocking her airway.

"Cough! Hack-hack!"

After several compressions, Itari finally choked and spat out pool water. She coughed violently, her body shivering uncontrollably. Slowly, her eyes opened, staring at the soaking wet Samson in front of her with a dazed look.

"S-Samson?" she whispered weakly. Her cold hands trembled as she reached for his wet, muscular arm.

"Madam, what were you thinking? Why did you do this?" Samson asked in a low voice, filled with genuine concern.

“Why did you save me? Why didn't you just let me go?” she asked with a raspy voice, her eyes bloodshot.

“Your death isn't the solution, Madam. Do you really think taking this shortcut will solve all your problems?” he asked. Itari was stunned by the slight edge of a scold in Samson’s voice.

She bowed her head and sobbed, weeping bitterly.

“I’m so tired, hic...” Her shoulders shook violently, her head hanging low.

Samson remained by her side in silence, watching her weep. He didn't know what to do to comfort the woman before him. He let out a long sigh, letting the water from his shirt drip onto the marble. He couldn't simply turn away from the suffering of a woman who, though potentially a "snake in the grass" to his employer, was clearly in pain.

"Madam, I'm just a man from the market who just started working here." Samson’s voice softened, contrasting with the rippling water of the pool. "But I know one thing: life is too precious to throw away just because of what people say. If you die now, you'll just be someone forgotten in this house. And people's opinions of you might only get worse."

Itari looked up, her swollen eyes staring at him in disbelief. In the chill of the night, this giant of a man was the only one offering a shred of human warmth. Instinctively, she drew closer to him, shivering from the cold.

"I never wanted to be in this house, Samson," she whispered weakly. “I want to be free. I don't want to live a life full of pressure and threats.”

Samson looked at her pale face. The look in her eyes had changed; the flirtatious gaze from this afternoon was gone. In its place was a look of intense pressure, heavy burdens, and fear.

“You’re very good at wearing a mask,” Samson said without thinking.

“A mask?” Itari murmured with a bitter smile. “Yes, that’s the only thing I can do, Samson.”

Samson saw her body shivering violently. She hugged herself, trying to find warmth that wasn't there. Since Samson was wearing a soaking wet black t-shirt that he couldn't exactly offer to someone else, he could only offer physical support.

“Let me take you to your room. You’re shivering too much. You’ll get sick if you stay out here much longer,” Samson said, offering his sturdy arm to help her up.

Itari took his hand with trembling fingers. As she tried to stand, her legs felt like jelly, and she nearly collapsed again if Samson hadn't quickly caught her by the waist.

The situation was a mess. Samson’s tight black shirt clung to his wet muscles, and Itari looked incredibly fragile in her drenched, thin gown.

"Can you walk, Madam?" Samson asked quietly, trying to keep his face at a distance while supporting her so she wouldn't fall.

"I can... thank you, Samson," Itari whispered, her voice nearly lost to the night wind.

Samson assisted her along the path toward the side door of the main house, which was closer to her room. However, just as they reached the dimly lit back terrace, Samson suddenly stopped. He heard the sound of footsteps nearby.

Itari gasped, her swollen eyes wide with fear as she heard footsteps coming from the kitchen leading to the terrace. Faint light from inside the house began to illuminate the path.

"Someone’s there, Samson!" she whispered in a panic, her fingers gripping his arm tightly.

“Yes, I know.” Samson turned quickly.

As a bodyguard, he knew all too well that if they were caught soaking wet and alone together in the middle of the night, no one would believe an explanation about saving a life. To the people in this house, it would be a massive scandal that would destroy his career before it even truly began.

Without a word, Samson pulled Itari and led her to hide behind a row of lush, tall Red Lip plants at the corner of the terrace. They both pressed their bodies against the dark wall, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

A middle-aged maid came out carrying a large trash bag. She stopped for a moment, yawning loudly and rubbing her eyes.

"Huh, I thought I heard water splashing," the maid muttered, looking toward the pool where the water was still slightly rippling. She walked toward the edge of the pool, making Samson’s heart race.

Behind the dense foliage, they were positioned very closely. Samson could feel Itari’s racing breath and her body shivering from the cold. Instinctively, Samson wrapped his arm around her shoulder not to flirt, but to dampen her shivering so it wouldn't rustle the leaves.

Being so close made Itari’s heart pound erratically. She looked at Samson’s face from a few inches away; she realized the man was actually quite handsome when observed this closely.

Unconsciously, Itari leaned her head against Samson’s broad, wet chest. Amidst the fear, for some reason, she felt incredibly safe. The masculine scent of his body mixed with the pool water felt far more comforting than the hollow luxury she received every day.

"Probably just a frog," the maid finally muttered. She turned back and re-entered the house, locking the door with a loud click.

Samson exhaled a long sigh of relief. He slowly released his hold. "It’s safe now, Madam. Come, let’s take the darker side path."

***