Florence's POV

I've been staring at this damn zipper for ten minutes.

The dress fits, technically, but it's the kind of fit that makes breathing optional. It's black, sleek, off-shoulder, and far too elegant for the occasion. Too elegant for someone who's supposed to be working her way through vengeance. I shouldn't care how I look tonight, but a little part of me does and I didn't like it.

I tugged again, twisting my arm backward at an unnatural angle.

"Mum," I called out, breathless, "can you help me with this?"

No response came. I sighed and step into the living room. Mom was sitting on the couch, eyes fixed on a faded family photo like she's time-traveling again.

But when she looked and saw me, really saw me, her face lit up, like a sun I haven't seen in years.

"Oh Florence," she breathed out. "You look so pretty."

I blinked. "What?"

She stood, suddenly purposeful, her eyes almost seeming clear-headed. "Wait here."

She rushed to her bedroom and returned with a small hair brooch, delicate silver, shaped like a leaf. I remember it, she used to wear it on birthdays and anniversaries.

She pinned it to my hair, her hands trembling slightly.

"There," she said softly, smiling. "You look beautiful. Just like when I married your father..."

And then, as quickly as the light appeared, it disappears. Her face tightens and her hands fall.

"Your father," she whispered, "he would've loved to see you tonight."

I took a shaky breath. "Mom.."

"He would've loved it," she repeats louder. "He would've said you looked like a star! But he's dead, he's dead, isn't he? He didn't even get to say goodbye, Florence! We just buried him like a stranger..."

I grab her arms. "Mum, It's okay. I know, I know."

And then the worst of it came.

She jerked away and stared at me, her eyes wide, panicked. "Wait... where is he? Where's your father, Florence? He should be back by now."

I forced a smile adapting to the situation almost immediately and with practiced ease. "He went out, remember? He said he'd meet us there."

"Really?" she whispered.

"Of course. I'll send him a picture so he doesn't miss out."

I lifted my phone, pretending to snap the photo, and my fingers shook as I pressed the button. My mother clapped softly, nodding like a child.

*******

By the time I stepped into the company's hotel ballroom, I had rebuilt the mask.

The lights were too bright as the room was flooded with champagne and soft jazz. Men in sleek tuxedos, women in gowns worth more than my mother's treatment plan. Everyone was laughing, networking, pretending they're not just hungry wolves in expensive heels and custom shoes.

I spotted Anthony near the stage. In a maroon blue suit, sporting an indifferent expression. As usual, he looks like he owns not just the room but time itself.

I walked past a waiter and snatched a glass of champagne off the tray.

"Florence," he said when I approached, voice as steady as a metronome.

I raised a brow. "Oh. You can speak outside of giving orders."

His eyes flickered, but as always, he didn't rise to the bait.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Not particularly. But then again, you wouldn't know much about enjoyment would you? You probably schedule your joy for every third Thursday between quarterly meetings."

He sips from his glass and I caught corner of his mouth twitching, like maybe he found that funny but doesn't have the muscles to show it.

I took another sip. The bubbles burn slightly or maybe that was the ache in my throat from earlier.

We walked through the room together, him composed, me pretending I was not one glass away from combusting into flames. He introduced me to a few clients, barely looking at me when he does, but I smile through it all, like a good little employee.

But the more I drank, the less the mask held. A third glass, then a fourth.

He was speaking to a CFO about quarterly targets. Uninterested, I rolled my eyes and wandered toward the balcony, glass in hand.

I didn't know how long I was out there before I felt him beside me again.

"You've had enough," he said quietly.

I laughed loudly. "You don't get to tell me when I've had enough."

"Florence.."

"Fuck off," I snapped, slurring slightly. "You don't get to act concerned. Not you of all people, traitor."

His brow lifted slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

I spun to face him, head swimming. "You're the one who destroyed my family. My father died because of you. My brother rots in a prison in a country we don't even know. And you, " I jabbed my finger at his chest. "You walk around in your custom suits and silent stares like none of it matters."

He said nothing, and so in my drunken state that was akin to silent acceptance and so I pushed harder.

"You think being cold makes you powerful? You think ignoring people makes you strong? No. It makes you heartless. It makes you.."

I stumbled, but he caught my arm just in time.

"Don't touch me!" I shouted, yanking away.

Guests started to stare. Someone whispers my name, but Anyhow doesn't flinch. He just leaned in, murmured something to one of the assistants, and escorts me through the ballroom like it's just a quiet exit.

The elevator ride to the suite was silent. My chest heaves with everything I want to scream, and everything I want to destroy.

We got to a private room and when the door clicked shut behind us, I lost it.

"You want to know why I'm here?" I shouted. "You want to know what your company means to me?"

He watched me with an irritating calmness.

"I came here to destroy you."

He tilted his head slightly. "You're drunk."

"I came here to ruin you, Anthony," I spat out, voice shaking. "I've been planning it for five years. You destroyed my life, so I'm going to destroy yours."

His expression didn't change.

But his voice, when it finally came, was quieter and much sharper.

"If I destroyed your life... what are you doing to me?"

I stopped in my tracks. Because the way he said it... it wasn't smug, it wasn't dismissive. It was something else and it made my blood boil.

And without thinking-without breathing-I closed the distance between us.

I grabbed the lapel of his suit and yanked him down, my lips crashing into his like a storm tearing through a city. It wasn't graceful. It wasn't sweet. It was anger and grief and the kind of heat that only grows in ruins.

For a heartbeat, maybe two, he kissed me back.

Then I gasped, shoving him away as my hand smacked across his chest.

"What the hell was that?" I hissed, eyes wide in horror. "You kissed me! You damn pervert!"

His brows raised, breath steady. "You kissed me first."

"You're lying."

"No," he said evenly. "You're drunk, and angry, and so far buried in your own pain you can't even see when you're the one lighting matches."

"Liar," I snapped. "Thief. You should be used to making up stories."

He just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose like he was tired of me.

"If I'm such a bad person as you claim then what are you doing here?"

"I'm making it even," I whispered. "And I haven't even started. I will ruin your life just the way you ruined mine. And I won't rest until I have achieved it."

Florence's POV

"I hate you."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. They were hot, cracked and ragged. My fists were clenched at my sides, trembling with the weight of five years of silence and pain.

"You're wicked," I breathed out, laughing bitterly. "You're so wicked but you have no idea that your worst enemy is working right under your nose."

Anthony didn't move, he didn't even speak. He just stood there, his dark eyes fixed on me like I was a stranger speaking in tongues or a foreigner rapping in an unknown language, but maybe I was. Maybe this is what happens when you tear the stitches open all at once and let salt pour into your wounds.

But I kept on talking.

"Every morning you walk past me in your expensive suits thinking you own the world. Meanwhile, I've been sitting in your office plotting to tear it down, your company, your image, your control."

His jaw tightened, but he still said nothing.

I let out a cold, broken laugh. "You don't even realize what you've done to me. What you did to my family, to my father, to Gabriel. And yet you sit so calm and composed like nothing and no one can touch you.. unfortunately I am here to change all that. I will hurt you so much."

I stumbled back, my back hitting the wall and I felt the world tilt and a wave of dizziness hit me.

"I hate you." I said before darkness fell and everywhere went still.

*****

When I opened my eyes again, I was not in the same hotel room. This one was much smaller. Quiet and dimly lit with the air smelling like roses and linen.

I sat up too fast causing my head to spin, my temple was pounding, and my body ached like a steamroller had gone through me.

Where am I? For a moment, my mind was completely blank and my mind felt fuzzy like there was static.

But then it rushed in like a flood, the champagne, the one sided shouting match, the balcony, and him. Me screaming, confessing, cracking wide open in front of the one man I was supposed to destroy. I had completely ruined my plans but completely going clean in front of him. And the fact that I kissed him. I planted my lips on the man who had ruined my life, how far had I fallen.

I sang my legs over the bed and realize that I was still wearing the dress from last night, minus the shoes which were discarded on the floor. Someone must have brought me here. Was it him?

But he had left no note, no message, just nothing but silence. The same kind I have been living in for the past five years.

I gathered myself, my belongings and head out. Got in a cab and went straight home to freshen up.

Mum was pacing around the living room when I got there. She was holding an old tie that used to belong to Dad.

"Florence, he didn't come home," she whispers, rushing to me with worry maring her eyes. "He went out, and I waited but he didn't come back. I waited all night."

I took the tie from her gently and tried to soothe her. "Hey mum. He's okay, he just... had to work late and you of all people should know how tiring his work is."

She started shaking and her eyes welled up with tears. "Did he forget about me? Is he mad at me? He didn't call me to tell me."

I pulled her in for a hug. One so tight and warm I hoped it would be her cure. "No don't think that. Dad really loves you. He probably just got busy or his phone died because he forgot to take the charger along, but he'll call later, okay?"

She nodded, slowly calming down. I helped her into her room and laid her down, brushing her hair back like I used to when I was younger. She closed her eyes eventually, going off to sleep.

While my own eyes are burning red with tears that came straight from my soul.

I showered quickly, changed into work clothes, and grabbed my bag dashing out of the house quickly. My stomach felt like it was made of stone and I need something to distract myself from the ache in my chest. I didn't even know if I still had a job, but I couldn't sit here like I had given up.

I had stepped into the elevator and went down when my phone buzzed. It was an official email.

Subject: Termination Notice

Body: Ms. Davidson, your probationary employment with St. Louis Corporation has been terminated, effective immediately. Your access to office property has been revoked.

I just stared at the screen.

My employment was terminated? Just like that?

There was no warning or explanation. Anger surged through my chest, fierce and hot like a dormant volcano ready to explode.

I didn't wait to wallow in self-pity or contemplate my next plan. I went straight to the office.

The security guard at the door gives me a confused look. "Miss, you're not authorized to go in today. Your access card was deactivated this morning."

I gave a tight smile. "I left personal belongings in the executive office. Just a few files and personal items, I'll be out in five minutes."

He hesitated for a while but he nodded eventually and stepped aside from me to walk in.

And I did, with no badge,no clearance,no rules. Just unbridled rage and anger.

I marched to the 41st floor and stepped into Anthony's office like I still belonged here. And there he was, behind the desk, as usual. Calm and composed. The face that gave away nothing.

"You terminated my appointment. You fired me." I say coldly.

He looks up. "Yes I did. "

"No meeting? No call? No conversation what's so ever?!"

"You screamed at my in public. You insulted me based on false accusations. You are clearly unstable and I do not need such people in my office."

I laughed. "So this is about your ego."

"No. It's about responsibility. I've noticed your... quirks, since the day you arrived."

"You mean my dislike for you?" I snarled. "You mean the way I couldn't pretend to admire a man who destroyed my family?"

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

I stepped forward. "You don't remember Davidson & Co.?" My voice rose. "You acquired them four years ago. My family's biggest no one branch, the crown and foundation of our business, the one your company devoured."

"That company you are talking about was completely drowning in debt," he replied sharply. "We salvaged what was left and made it what it is now."

"You mean you stole it," I said. "After you sent my brother to jail. After you framed him for tax fraud and let my father die from the disgrace of it."

"I have never met your brother," he says firmly. "I don't even know his name."

"Gabriel Davidson," I snap. "He was the CFO and he was framed for a crime he didn't commit. Everything fell apart because of your company. My mother has been slipping out of reality ever since. I've been trying to keep her together while you climbed your precious ladder."

Anthony blinked, slowly. Then leaned down, opening a drawer. He pulled out a file and slid it across the desk to me.

I hesitated but then took it and looked down. It was a death certificate.

One with Gabriel's name written on it, and that wasn't all. Gabriel's date of birth was there along with a photograph clipped to the corner.

The apparent cause of death was a car crash. Certified by a local authority. Time-stamped, signed.

My hands trembled in confusion and fear. "This... this can't be real."

"He died according to what I know. It happened before we acquired that company," Anthony sa quietly. "I remember it clearly because the deal was delayed. It was part of the reason it was up for auction."

"No." I shake my head. "No, he didn't die. He was arrested, he is currently in jail in a different country. He's alive."

I unlocked my phone, open the police database link that I had saved for like three years ago.

I slammed the screen down in front of him.

The name: Gabriel Davidson.

Crime: International Financial Fraud.

Status: Detained.

Location: Undisclosed, foreign facility.

Anthony looked at the phone and then at me, and for the first time since I met him, he didn't look composed.

He looked... completely lost.

"This doesn't make sense," he murmured to himself.

My hands tightened around the edge of the desk. "No it doesn't."

Silence stretched between us, filled only by the soft hum of the AC and the sound of two people realizing neither of them knew the truth.

"We both have proof," I whispered

He nodded slowly. "So... which one is real?"

Florence's POV

"We both have proof," I whispered in disbelief. My head was spinning in circles and I couldn't help but clutch it to steady myself.

Anthony nodded slowly, but his gaze didn't waver. "So... which one is real?"

The air between us felt like glass, thin and fragile, ready to shatter with any wrong move we make. My pulse roared in my ears, and the edges of my vision buzzed, was I going insane.

"You're lying," I said, my voice shaking more from disbelief than anger. I refused to believe his words and play into his game. If he really was telling the truth then what sort of sick game was fate trying to play against me. "You're trying to confuse me. Twist my head around until I can't tell what's real anymore."

His jaw tightened. "Miss Davidson.."

"No!" I slammed my palm on the desk in frustration. "You think I'm stupid? You think I'll just believe some neatly typed death certificate because you put it in front of me? My brother is alive and well, he has been unlawfully locked up in a country that we don't know and can't access. I have spent five years living with that truth, keeping my mother and my entire heart alive with that truth. Don't stand there and tell me I imagined it all. He isn't dead."

Anthony's voice stayed maddeningly calm and indifferent . He eyes were steady and looked like this matter didn't shake him. Like it was so insignificant and it made my blood boil. "I don't have the time or the interest to hide your brother, Florence. I run a multinational corporation. I don't orchestrate personal vendettas against people I've never met before."

I let out a bitter laugh that scraped my throat raw. "Of course you do. You wanted our company, you wanted the prestige. All you had to do was destroy us to get it. And you decided to target my brother who was the heart of the company. Once you did that everything else fell into place for you."

His eyes hardened to steel. "If I wanted your company for myself, I could have taken it without pretense. But that's not what happened."

"Liar." I spat wanting to strangle him and see his indifferent expression change. Make him feel panic and fear, the same ones I felt and I still feel even after all these years.

Anthony's movements were sharp and deliberate as he rose from behind the desk, crossed the room, and went to the far wall. He pressed his thumb to a small, black square I hadn't noticed before. A quiet click echoed, and part of the wood panel slid open, revealing a narrow safe.

He keyed in a code, turned the handle, and pulled out a thick, cream-colored folder. He set it on the desk and opened it, flipping through until he stopped at a single sheet.

"This," he said, sliding it toward me, "is from my files. I kept it because I don't throw away originals when the deal involves corporate acquisition. It is usually Incase of certain situations but I am glad I did so."

I glanced down. The document was printed in clean black ink.

"What is this?" I shifted away from the file.

"You have said your truth haven't you? And so I am showing you mine. The proof of my innocence against your structured bias against me."

"It's not bias it's the truth."

"Your truth is highly flawed and you will know it when you look at the file." His voice hardened and he pushed the file closer.

I gulped and picked up the file opening it. It was a printed email.

From: Gabriel Davidson

To: acquisitions@stlouiscorp.com

Subject: Urgent – Buyout Proposal

My heart stopped with seconds.

I scanned the first few lines a thousand times, the words tilting and blurring as if my eyes refused to accept them:

I am reaching out on behalf of Davidson & Co. with an urgent request for purchase of the remaining company shares. Given the financial strain and ongoing debt crisis, I believe it is in everyone's interest to proceed quickly with the acquisition to salvage what is left. Please I will expect your positive response as I am badly in need at the moment.

There was a signature at the bottom. Gabriel's. His name, his style, the same little upward flick on the G that only he wrote.

"No," I breathed, shaking my head dropping the file back on the table like it had physically burned me. "This isn't right. This isn't true at all. My brother would never do this."

"It came directly to us," Anthony said, watching me closely. "Your brother contacted my company first. He wanted us to buy the shares before the auction."

"But you didn't. Your company came that day and won the highest bid. If he really came to you before then why didn't you take his offer immediately, why wait until you had a load of competitors." I probed, feeling his explanation weak.

"I do not understand what your understanding of business is but I do not venture into anything that comes easily " Easy means cheap and cheap means low quality. Your brother is not the first person to throw his company at me and he would not be the last. I would research and inquire and plan before I acquire a company just in case the company will bare me loss instead of profit."

I dragged my fingers over the paper as if touching it would make the truth seep into my skin. My stomach twisted. "He was trying to save the company," I whispered, my throat tightening. "Not sell it. He...he went up and down the city for weeks, meeting investors, calling in favors. I watched him. When he found out it was being auctioned, he almost lost his mind. He was furious to the point we were scared he would do something horrible to himself or someone else. He said he'd never give it to the St. Louis family, not after what your company done to Dad's deals in the past. You guys are practically our rivals so why would he come to you."

"Then explain this," Anthony said. His tone wasn't mocking or smug, it was... genuinely questioning. "Explain the multiple evidence I has that your brother came to me first."

I couldn't defend him. I couldn't understand what was going on. It was like my entire world had crumpled once again.

I stared at the letter, at the timestamp that placed it barely a month before our downfall. It didn't fit. Nothing fit anymore.

My head felt like it was splitting in two one part clinging to the version of events I had built my revenge on, the other part being yanked toward something darker, stranger, and far more complicated.

For the first time since I'd walked into this office months ago, I wasn't sure who the villain was.

Anthony leaned on the desk, his hands braced on either side of the folder. "You see the problem now, don't you?"

I met his gaze, and it was like staring into a mirror that reflected my own confusion. "I see... that everything I thought I knew is starting to crumble."

Anthony straighten up and walked closer to me. "And now that you understand what I said you need to leave."

"No!" I refused immediately, looking at him square I the eye. "I am not going anywhere until this matter is resolved. My brother is alive and yet you say his dead."

"The only reason I was able to acquire the company is because your brother was dead and has willingly given up his rights and all the shares to be auctioned. I had an upper hand due to the email. Nothing big or elaborate."

"It's like you are not understanding what is happening." I practically screamed at him. "All this information is not true, we both have two different versions of the story but the problem is still the same. You took away our company."

"I legally bought it."

"That's what you think but you didn't. I don't know who sent you all those messages but sure as hell it was not my brother." I insisted.

Anthony stared at me long and hard for twenty good seconds before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Miss Davidson, I do not have time for this, I have a meeting by 12pm, something I'm sure you already know of as you were the one handling my schedule."

"Are." I corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"I am still the one handling your schedule."

"I sent you a termination letter."

"And I refuse to acknowledge it."

"On what grounds are you doing this."

"On the grounds of unlawful termination of contract with no reason."

"Sexual and physical assault is a pretty good reason."

"Yes but then I'll expose all these complexities to the world."

"It won't affect me much."

"That's what you say now but from what I have gathered about you, you hate media drama no matter how powerful enough you are to sway it."

Anthony looked at me like I was the bane of his existence but I didn't care. I had a mission to fulfill and that was getting my brother back home.

"Stop staring at me sir, you have a meeting by 12pm and another with the Chinese ambassadors by 1:30pm. Let's get to it." I said before walking to my office door.

There was nowhere in hell that I would willing leave this place. He would have to drag me out, while I tore his eardrums with my screams. Besides I doubt he is the type of man to get his hands dirty like that.