Venomous Love

Leaving Without Looking Back

Hours later, Dior woke up with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked around disoriented, trying to remember how she ended up on the couch. Then, the memories came rushing back. Her mind began to replay the events of the night. The argument, the whiskey, the painful realizations... "Did I really say all that?" she whispered to herself, wincing as the memories flooded back. "I can't believe I got so drunk and emotional.” Dior's eyes snapped open as the memory hit her like a punch to the gut. "Leander and Alexei... they were exes," she whispered, her voice trembling. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the realization sank in. "He only used me…” Dior's hand flew up, slapping herself hard across the face. "Wake up, you i***t!" she hissed, tears stinging her eyes. "Please, please let it be a dream..." She hit herself again and again, each slap echoing through the silent room. "I can't... I can't keep working for him," she whispered brokenly, her palm pressed against her burning cheek. "Seeing his face every day, knowing he used me..." She crumbled onto her bed, gripping the sheets tightly. Dior's mind made up, she quickly packed a small bag with essentials, moving silently through her apartment. She wouldn't give Leander the satisfaction of knowing he'd driven her away. She'd just disappear - no goodbye, no explanation. Let him wonder where his assistant went. Dior silently crept out of her apartment and into the underground garage, avoiding any potential encounters. She unlocked her sleek black sports car and slipped behind the wheel, taking a deep breath. "Time for a fresh start," she whispered to herself, pulling out of the garage and disappearing into the early morning traffic. As Dior drove, the city lights blurred into a stream of colors, reflecting her chaotic thoughts. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. "No more looking back," she told herself firmly. She had no idea where she was going, but anywhere was better than staying in Leander's orbit.

Meanwhile, at Leander's office, the atmosphere was unusually tense. Leander sat behind his large mahogany desk, staring at the clock. It was already past nine, and there was no sign of Dior. His assistant usually arrived early, coffee in hand and ready to start the day. A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Leander stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He grabbed his coat and keys, making a decision. "I'll check on her," he muttered to himself, heading out of the office.

Leander's car sped through the city streets, his grip on the steering wheel tight. He tried to push down the growing worry that gnawed at him. Dior was never late. Something wasn't right. He pulled up to her apartment building, his heart pounding in his chest. He took the elevator up to Dior's floor, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He knocked on her door, waiting. No answer. He knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing. A cold feeling crept down his spine. He pulled out his phone and called her number. The phone rang inside the apartment, but there was no sound of it being picked up. Leander's mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. He tried the door handle, finding it unlocked. He pushed the door open, stepping inside Dior's apartment. The apartment was eerily silent and dark, the curtains drawn. Leander flipped on the light switch, revealing a neatly kept space. Everything seemed in order at first glance, except... Leander's eyes widened as he noticed Dior's favorite mug still on the counter, half-full. He walked further into the apartment, calling out Dior's name, but the silence was deafening. He entered her bedroom, his heart pounding in his ears. The bed was made, but there was no sign of Dior. He noticed her phone charging on the nightstand, untouched. His eyes scanned the living room, landing on the empty whiskey bottles scattered around. He picked one up, he counted five empty bottles in total. "She drank all of these last night?” Leander's concern deepened as he surveyed the scene, trying to piece together Dior's state of mind from the night before. The emptied bottles suggested she had been drinking heavily, alone. "Why would she drink herself into a stupor like this?" he murmured, setting the bottle down. He walked over to the bathroom, pushing the door open. The room was spotless, no signs of a struggle or illness. He turned back to the bedroom, his eyes scanning the room again. That's when he noticed something on the nightstand - a crumpled piece of paper. Leander picked up the crumpled paper, smoothing it out. It was a resignation letter. His eyes widened as he read Dior's neat handwriting. "Effective immediately, I resign from my position at Crown Enterprises. Thank you for the opportunity. -Dior”. His heart raced as the pieces began to fall into place - her sudden walkout, the heavy drinking, the resignation letter. An unfamiliar fear gripped him. "Where are you, Dior?" He muttered, running his fingers through his hair. "And why did you drink yourself half to death?”

Leander strode back into his office, his mind spinning with questions and worries. He sank into his leather chair, elbows on the desk, face buried in his hands. The resignation letter lay crumpled beside him, accusing him silently. He hadn't noticed any signs she was so unhappy. His mind worked overtime. "She never complained. She never missed a day. She was always efficient..." He tried to remember if there were any signs he had missed. "Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?" He felt an unfamiliar emotion - guilt. "Where did I go wrong?”. While he is thinking, Lucius entered abruptly, announcing with his usual brisk tone, "Your meeting with the marketing team starts in fifteen, Boss." He glanced at the crumpled letter on the desk with curious eyes but didn't comment. "Everything alright?" He noticed Leander's distracted state. Leander waved a dismissive hand at Lucius, as Lucius turned to leave, Leander's hand moved instinctively to call him back, ready to order a company-wide search for Dior. But something held him back - pride, perhaps, or the fear of looking desperate. He stopped himself, his voice firm but dismissive. "Actually... forget it.” Lucius paused at the door, his brow furrowing slightly at Leander's sudden change of heart. He knew better than to push, though. With a nod, he exited, leaving Leander alone with his thoughts and the crumpled resignation letter. With a heavy sigh, Leander forced his mind back to the present. He couldn't let his personal feelings distract him from his duties. He straightened his suit, stepped out of his office, and made his way to the conference room where the meeting with the marketing team awaited him. "Let's begin.”

The meeting dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity for Leander. His mind was elsewhere, but he managed to maintain a professional demeanor, providing input and making decisions as needed. As soon as the meeting adjourned, he excused himself without a second thought and headed straight for his car. Leander drove home in silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The city lights blurred into streaks as he sped towards his penthouse. The elevator ride up to the top floor felt interminable, and when he finally stepped into his penthouse, it felt eerily quiet and empty. He loosened his collar, pacing around the vast living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the city lights, but tonight they did nothing to improve his mood. He poured himself a strong drink and sank into his favorite armchair. "Where are you, Dior?” Leander took a sip of his whiskey, the liquid burning down his throat. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the thoughts of Dior. But her absence was a palpable void in his otherwise orderly life. He glanced at his watch, realizing it was already late. He set his glass down with a sigh and stood up, walking over to the window. The city was still bustling with life, but all he could think about was the silence of his own penthouse. He pulled out his phone, opening the company's employee tracking system, but he suddenly remembered that Dior's phone was left at her apartment. He can't track her.

Leander sat back in his armchair, swirling the remaining whiskey in his glass. He remembered the look on Dior's face when she stormed out of his office - the hurt, the anger, the desperation. He sighed, "Perhaps giving her some space is the right thing to do…”