Oops I Kissed My Villain Boss

NINE

Florence POV.

I stood in the canned goods aisle, the grocery basket heavy in my hand, but it wasn’t the weight of the basket that bothered me. It was the weight in my chest, a cold, gnawing unease that had settled there the moment I walked into the store.

I tried to reason with myself, to explain it by claiming it was because I had a long day at the office, the exhaustion that had been my constant companion for weeks. From this whole revenge plan, to taking care of my mother and actively working to earn money, I was drained in all aspects and my nerves were off the roof. But my quiet but present instincts were basically screaming at me.

A restless energy coursed through me, making it hard to breathe. I scanned the entirety of the shop as my goods were getting scanned and bagged. There was nothing obvious to worry about. I glanced toward the wide glass door at the store's entrance, my eyes darting nervously as if I were expecting something terrible to happen.

The rational part of my brain told me to calm down, to just pick up the damn tomatoes and go home. But another part, was telling me to run as fast as I could. Was there something wrong at home that I didn't know of. Had something happened to my mom and that's why I was getting so paranoid?

I fumbled in my purse, my fingers shaking as I dug out my phone and pressed the speed dial. It rang twice before my mother's warm, familiar voice answered.

“Mom? Are you home? Are you..are you alright?” The desperation in my voice was a betrayal of the calm I was trying to project.

She chuckled softly, a sound that always managed to soothe me. “Of course, I am, Florence. What’s wrong? You sound like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing… I just needed to check,” I lied, my gaze snapping toward the reflection in the refrigerator glass door.

That’s when I saw them. Two heafty looking men staring right at me. Their features were menacing and their eyes filled with a dangerous glint. I looked back at my phone pretending to type while staring at them with my side eye. Eventually they looked away when someone came to take some items of the shelf they stood in front.

My pulse hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat. “I’ll call you back, Mama.” I didn’t wait for her to answer, just shoved the phone back into my purse, abandoned my basket on the counter, and walked briskly toward the exit. I looked behind me and saw them walking in my direction.

They were following me.

The moment I stepped out of the store, the air seemed to grow thick with dread. The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows, and the familiar sounds of the city seemed to fade into a low hum. I walked faster, my heels clicking a frantic rhythm on the pavement, the sound was as loud and urgent as an alarm bell in the quiet night.

By the time I reached my car, my hands were trembling so badly I fumbled with the keys, dropping them once before I managed to get the door unlocked. I climbed inside, locked the doors with a solid click, and started the engine with my breath caught in my throat. I glanced in the rearview mirror. They were stepping outside, splitting directions as if to box me in.

I didn’t think. I just drove. Fast, reckless, weaving through traffic with a desperate urgency that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with pure, unadulterated panic. My panic was my guide, and before I realized where I was heading, my tires screeched to a halt in front of a random store building on the other side of town. I stayed in place for an hour waiting to see if they had caught up with me. Eventually I went back home but used over three different routes to get back.

Once I did, I rushed to check up on my mom.

"Mom, where are you?" I hollered practically flying up the stairs as I went to her room. She was already asleep clutching onto my father's large portrait like she was trying to hold him.

I left her room quietly and broke down on the corridor. My heart rate was off the roof and I could feel a headache forming. I had never experienced such a danger before and it was not a nice feeling. There was only one person I knew could try and do this and I was not going to let him off so easily.

*********

The next day I matched into the office building practically fuming. I didn't speak to anyone not gave my usual greeting. I was out for their boss's blood.

Getting to the top floor through the elevator, I stormed inside, the air-conditioned chill of the lobby doing nothing to cool the fire in my veins. The receptionists and several employees clustered near the elevator stared at me, their faces a mix of surprise and concern.

My hair was a mess, my heart still pounding so loud I could hear it echoing in my ears. I didn’t care how I looked to them, I was decent enough. All that mattered was getting to Anthony, to the man who, despite his infuriating arrogance, was the only person who came to mind when the world began to fall apart.

I shoved open the door to his office without knocking.

“You’re trying to kill me!” The words tumbled out, thick with fear and accusation. They were meant to be an accusation, but they came out as a cry for help.

Anthony’s dark head lifted from behind his desk. He looked unruffled, calm in a way that only made me more furious. A few of his employees inside the room froze at my outburst, their faces pale.

Anthony’s gaze flicked toward them, sharp and dismissive. “Out. All of you.”

The employees scattered, whispering as they hurried past me, their hurried steps a contrast to my own frantic arrival.

Anthony leaned back in his chair, studying me with an unsettling composure that grated on my raw nerves. “What happened?”

"What do you mean what happened, you definitely know what happened cause you are the one who planned it all." I snapped not buying his fake concern.

"Miss Davidson I have more important things to do than to deal with your tantrums so if you have nothing to say then I suggest to exist my office immediately. This is a company not your personal playground center where you can act as you wish." He said, his tone rising with anger. And then I was not too sure whether he was the one who actually did it.