The Day I Left, He Realized He Loved Me

Chapter 8 Like a Dog

Florence ordered a bottle of red wine and a steak in the restaurant.

This was the most upscale restaurant in all of Helvanor, offering a stunning view of the city's shimmering lights below. She gazed at the lights below while savoring her meal, lost in thought.

Florence sat alone by the window, quietly savoring her meal as soft classical music played in the background.

The dimly lit hallway outside cast an amber glow. She heard approaching footsteps and assumed it was the server, so she paid no heed. But then she caught a familiar scent!

'That cologne... It is Lancelot's!'

Florence looked up abruptly, her eyes locking onto a deep, penetrating gaze. Lancelot rested his chin on one hand, watching her with a calm intensity. His presence was sharp and commanding, like a lone eagle assessing its prey from above.

She had dressed for the occasion in a sleek, double-breasted black cashmere suit over a white silk blouse with a delicate tie. Her pressed trousers showcased a poised and confident elegance. With softly curled shoulder-length hair and a bare hint of makeup, her look was polished by only a pair of diamond earrings, giving her an air of aloof sophistication that commanded a certain respect.

Florence was taken aback by his sudden appearance for a moment, but she quickly composed herself.

"What brings you here, Mr. Foster? Aren't you supposed to be at the auction?"

Lancelot gestured with his chin, casually taking a seat as his gaze returned to its calm demeanor. His voice held a hint of warmth, but his expression was impassive. "Since we've bumped into each other, let's leave business aside for now. You don't have to call me Mr. Foster, Ms. Hawthorne."

Florence scoffed at his feigned casualness and took a sip of her water. "If not Mr. Foster, then what? Lancelot? You really do me a great honor!"

She practically spat out his name with disdain.

"I wouldn't mind," he replied, unfazed.

Florence scoffed, "I'd rather keep my distance from you, Mr. Foster. After all, a single misstep could lead to a costly fall into the sea." Lancelot's eyes flashed briefly, breaking his calm facade.

He stood up, approached her, and said firmly, "One year ago, why did you just disappear without a word? There were two months left on our contract, and you left without even taking a penny with you."

Florence hesitated, his words dredging up painful memories. 'Evelyn only ever gave me half of what she'd promised. After I left, I didn't see a cent of the rest. She did everything for Lancelot's benefit. Now he's got his new fling and all the fame and fortune she worked so hard to bring him.'

"Perhaps you should ask your mother whether she gave it to me or not," she retorted coldly. "Or are you pretending not to know? You know exactly the kind of person she is, don't you, Mr. Foster?"

"Florence Hawthorne!"

Lancelot lost his composure, pushing his chair back to sit closer. He gripped her cheek, bringing their faces so close she could see the fury simmering in his eyes.

"Have you found another man? Jacob? Did you take the black card he offered?"

Florence tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. Her cheek stung, yet she spat back defiantly, "Yes! I found someone else, and I'm happy. But what does that have to do with you, Mr. Foster?"

Lancelot sneered. "Well, look at you. Already hooked up with someone from the Hawthorne family. Is that how you got your CEO title?"

Florence finally broke free and stood up from her chair, her heels giving her just enough height to meet his gaze when he was leaning over.

"Lancelot, not everyone is as twisted as the people around you! Just because you see everything through a filthy lens doesn't mean everyone's the same! And even if I slept my way for this title, at least I can manage it without your concern!"

"Oh, really?" Lancelot's smirk grew more intense, his eyes narrowing. He quickly grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the restaurant.

The hallway was dim, and in one swift motion, he opened a door with a swipe card and pushed her against the wall inside.

He kissed her fiercely, not giving her a moment to breathe, his kiss passionate and intense.

When he finally stopped, Florence gasped, seething, "Lancelot, you son of a b***h, you bite like a dog!"

With his shirt collar slightly open, he looked at her under the dim light, his tone mocking. "After sleeping with me for three years, you should know better than anyone about that."

Florence bristled with anger.

'Lancelot still thinks I am the same submissive, ever-yielding maid who would take whatever he said as law! At Foster Villa, I preserved the last bit of dignity and hope for him, thinking he might change his mind. But after what happened, he just stood by and watched indifferently.'

From the moment she had nearly drowned, Florence saw him for who he really was, a self-serving brute, a man who deserved someone just as low as Sophia, who secretly tripped others up.

Seizing the moment while Lancelot was fastening his buttons, Florence kicked him in the groin, causing him to immediately clutch the area.

"I think you're still dreaming, Lancelot! Those three years? I might as well have been with a dog! Go relive those memories somewhere else, Mr. Foster. I suggest you go home and sleep with Sophia. She's your perfect match!"

"Florence Hawthorne..." he growled, glaring at her.

"During our cooperation, please do not overstep your boundaries. I've always been curious. You were investing in the entertainment industry just fine. Why suddenly invest in a cultural tourism city? Haven't you already made your mistress Sophia a star? You've already given Sophia every prime opportunity in the entertainment industry."

Lancelot looked at her leisurely, his gaze sweeping over her beautiful face, and suddenly interrupted her.

Lancelot sneered, leaning in slightly toward Florence, his eyes filled with mockery. "Ms. Hawthorne, you can't possibly think that I invested in the cultural tourism city and acquired Evergreen Group just to punish you for leaving a year ago, are you?"

Florence held her head high proudly, her defiance unmasked. She was no longer the quiet figure who'd tolerated the Foster family's abuses.

"And why else, Mr. Foster? Certainly not because you wanted to rekindle things with me. I don't play with the same toy twice."

Florence's gaze did not waver in the slightest for the coldness and fierceness in his eyes.

They stood there, locked in a silent clash like a lone wolf facing a hawk, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Suddenly, Florence's phone rang. She answered. It was Jacob.

"I've secured the auction item. We can head back. Where are you, Florence?"

"I'm coming to you now!" she replied without hesitation, yanking open the door and slamming it shut, leaving Lancelot locked inside.

*****

On the 23rd floor, Florence spotted Jacob immediately.

She straightened her dress and walked over to him, about to speak.

But before she could, Sophia approached her like a shadow.

"Florence." Sophia scoffed, "You sure know how to pick men. Left Lancelot, and now you've hooked another rich man! He's willing to spend eight million dollars on a gemstone for you. You're just as cheap as your mother, a slut who only knows how to please men!"

Florence had no intention of engaging with her.

But she was already fed up with Lancelot's provocations tonight, and she couldn't hold back her urge to slap Sophia.

"Sophia..." Florence approached her with a smile. "You have no idea, do you?" In the next moment, she slapped Sophia hard across the face.

"You think seducing men is easy? It takes skill. I only give that attention to men who deserve it. I wouldn't want men like Lancelot even if he begged!"

"Lancelot!" Sophia's eyes filled with tears as she spotted someone behind Florence. She ran over, crying pitifully.

Florence turned and saw him standing there, staring at her intently, his gaze as unyielding as a wolf's.