Chapter 8 Boba and Revenge

I let out a small whimper as my eyes closed, my chest heaving hard. My face buried in my palm, and I let out a shaky breath. I was trying as hard as I could to not let Florian hear me, but I knew I had gotten loud at some point, and I was grateful that he hadn't bothered to say anything to me.

I sighed, closing my eyes. Today would have been my wedding. Yet here I am. I have nowhere to go.

I straightened slowly, sniffing hard as I tried to best to compose myself. I turned to Florian. His eyes were cold as he drove silently, his fingers resting between us, the other navigating the steering wheel.

"I... I will sleep at the office till I can..."

"You are coming home with me."

I bit down on my lips. "That is hardly home, Florian."

He turned to me, his brow lifting. "Okay? You have called the Roseville mansion home for twenty-six years. Surely it wouldn't hurt your soul to call my place home for now."

I turned away, my eyes brimming with tears. He was right. I had never felt at home in the place I had called home. Ronan was the one who had a home, while I knelt at his feet and ate the crumbs of a family he was generous enough to let me have.

A handkerchief suddenly came in front of me, and I looked down at it. Florian's hands were stretched towards me, his eyes glued to the road. I looked down at it again.

It had his initials customised into it, and I remember he had those even back then. I had even stolen one, but I can't remember where it is anymore.

I had let go of my fetish for Florian and dove in deep with Damien, only to find myself tossed right back to Florian.

"I used to have one of these," I said, my voice shaky with tears as I took it.

"You did?"

I nodded, forcing a laugh. "I stole it. It was so fascinating then."

Florian turned briefly to me, then sighed. "We will stop to get boba."

"Boba?"

"You like to have boba when you are sad, or have you outgrown that?"

I turned fully to him, my lips parting. "You still remember?"

He went silent for a long second. "Did you lose the handkerchief?"

I shrugged. "There was no use keeping it. I forgot where it was, so..."

"It is impossible to forget you, Roxanne."

I met his eyes, and he was already watching me, swirls of darkness filling his eyes. I turned away, my fingers grasping unto the handkerchief for dear life, my eyes blinking rapidly as I tried to keep my breaths in check.

He said nothing more, and I could feel him turn back to his driving. After ten minutes of awkward silence, we stopped to get boba.

I turned to the coffee place, my heart sinking. It was not a place I had been to before, but it reminded me of all the times I had been to similar places with Damien.

I remember when he had gotten me boba and had returned with the number of the woman serving it. He had said he told her he had a girlfriend, but I remembered how he had turned the receipt with her number away, never throwing it out.

It was all my fault. I did myself in.

Florian got out of the car, and I watched his back as he made his way in. He was tall, his back broad, and I knew exactly how it felt to dig my nails into that back. To have that adonis right above me, teaching me how to speak in the languages of ecstasy.

I turned away. I was too hurt to confront all of the pent-up emotions with Florian. Even though I was somehow tossed back into his arms, I wanted to delay it as much as I could. It felt like there was a gaping wound inside of me, and I could mot possibly entertain anything else.

Much less anything as dominant and toe curling as Florian Hunt.

He soon emerged with a cup of boba, his brows furrowed as he walked to the car, then got in.

"Here."

I collected it with both hands, and he leaned back, his eyes taking me in. I brought the cup to my lips, my eyes averting his.

After a long, pregnant pause, I couldn't yake it anymore.

"You must think I am pathetic. I..."

"Enough of this," he said simply, then reached for his phone from between us. He leaned closer, his eyes holding mine in a dark, serious gaze.

"What do you want?"

My brows furrowed at the serious question. "What.... what do you mean?"

He took in a deep breath. "Say it, Roxanne. Do you want to watch them burn in hell, or do you want to do it yourself?"

I clenched my jaws hard and turned away. "I don't hate them."

"You do, sweetie. Do you want Damien to go scot-free? He cheaged. He lied to you for seven years. He made fun of you. He rid of your family, although you are better off without them. Do you really want him to go scot-free?"

I closed my eyes. Anger started to replace the helplessness I felt as the memories switched rapidly at the back of my eyes, painting everything I had viewed through rose coloured glasses into deep red shades.

"Florian..."

"Do you really want him to go scot free?"

"No!" I yelled, my chest heaving as the boba spilt unto my dress. "I want him to suffer. I want to fucking take everything from him! I want him to beg o his knees! I want my parents to see! Their golden child, his friend! I want to ruin them all! Can you do that? Huh?"

Florian's eyes darkened, and he wrapped his hand gently around my neck, then pulled me to him, his lips brushing mine. I closed my eyes, my chest heaving as I held onto him, like he was the very last thing remaining for me.

My lips parted, and I let it dance to the rhythm he set for both of us, slowly setting my blood on fire.

"Anything for you, princess," he whispered against my lips.

I sighed, my eyes closing as he pulled me into his chest so I could cry more. This was better than boba, but for some reason... a chill ran down my spine at his words, and I dared to believe them.

Maybe I shouldn't have.