The Despised Son-in-law Is A Mafia Boss

Chapter 50

As the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, Samantha lay in her bed, her gaze fixed blankly on the ceiling above.

The room was hushed, the sounds of early morning barely reaching her ears. Her eyes, usually vibrant, now held a distant emptiness, as if her thoughts were lost in the expanse above her.

Her tousled hair spilled over the pillow, a curtain of strands framing her face.

The creases on her brow hinted at a mind preoccupied by something beyond the room's confines.

The gentle rise and fall of her chest marked the rhythm of her breath, a rhythm that seemed to be the only indication of life in her stillness.

She stared at the ceiling above with no meaning. Her mind was adrift, carried away by currents of thoughts that were invisible to anyone else. The events of last were still fresh in her mind.

A sense of vulnerability lingered around her, the vulnerability of a mind grappling with its own complexities. It was a moment suspended in time, a moment of introspection.