Chapter 2 One-night stand

Standing in the middle of the cold street, Flora held the necklace her mother left her and held it before her eyes. "Mom, he's going to get his retribution..."

Her mood was foul today, so foul her mind felt empty, driving her to drink recklessly. Flora downed glass after glass, all hard liquor. She stared hazily at the amber liquid swirling in her glass, a bitter smile touching her lips. She idly glanced at her reflection in the bar mirror. A hot, wild party girl. Suddenly, her eyes stung. If her mother were alive to see her like this, she would be heartbroken.

After all, her Flora had been a lively, lovely, kind-hearted girl.

As for her, she was a flower stained with hatred, something that rose from hell, seeking out each of Selena's people to take revenge.

Flora leaned on the bar table and raised a glass of wine to her lips; suddenly, a hand reached out to stop her.

Flora's sharp eyes narrowed slightly, assessing the man before her. Probably some nouveau riche trash; otherwise, why deck himself head-to-toe in flashy designer labels?

"Get your filthy hands off me," Flora snapped.

"What's wrong, baby? Want me to cheer you up?" Seeing she was drunk, he grew bolder, brazenly placing a hand on her thigh.

Flora lowered her gaze, licked lips, and then, quick as lightning, kicked him squarely between the legs. He collapsed onto a stool, writhing in agony. The thumping music couldn't drown out his bloodcurdling scream. His friends rushed forward, eager to avenge him, but Flora quickly dispatched them, leaving them sprawled on the floor.

The bar owner knew her and told the troublemakers. "Don't mess with her. She's crazy, knows how to fight, and you won't win."

He didn't know Flora's background, only that she often came here to drink alone. Leave her alone, and she was fine. Mess with her, and few walked away unscathed.

Women, after all. The more beautiful, the more dangerous.

Looking at the failures before her, Flora suddenly wanted to laugh. She jumped off her chair, walked up to one man, and lifted his face with her hand. Then, she scoffed, blatant contempt showing on her face. "Ugly as hell!"

The kind of man Flora chooses, if not the best, must be the most handsome-certainly not one of these toads.

Her gaze swept across the bar; she was now the centre of everyone's attention, including a man sitting in a dark corner.

His eyes narrowed, filled with curiosity about the girl staring intently at him. Suddenly, she strode forward, approaching him amidst the surprise of many onlookers.

The bar owner panicked, afraid she'd provoke his valued guest, and rushed over to intercept her. But Flora didn't even spare him a glance, merely tossing a line. "Touch me again, and I'll make sure your family line ends."

Naturally, his family name meant more than a few bucks.

Soon enough, Flora stood directly before Derek. She moved with such effortless allure that his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily. The corner of his mouth lifted; he wanted to see what she'd do next.

Flora took the drink out of his hand, lips curling into a slow, sultry smile. "May I?"

Derek raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly, his gaze fixed on her complete lips. "Of course."

Flora gave a faint smile and downed the drink in one go. She flipped the empty glass upside down, a silent dare for another.

After drinking, Flora didn't hurry away. Instead, she boldly sat down on his lap, her fingers curling as she reached into his jacket pocket. "Can I have one?"

Derek smirked, his hand coming to rest on her waist. "Certainly."

Flora took the cigarette but didn't light it. After a moment, she put it down, her fingers tracing a path down his firm chest.

Derek didn't push her away, but neither was he particularly interested. Women in places like this were all the same, always hitting on any man who looked like he had money.

Flora burst into laughter; she was only eighteen, and her bright smile revealed a hint of mischief. "Sleep with me tonight."

Derek raised an eyebrow, his expression full of disdain. But Flora's following words stunned him.

"My treat."

Everyone thought the girl was insane, watching her anxiously, afraid she'd anger Derek. His friends knew Derek wasn't exactly patient, especially with women. Right now, they were all silently praying she wouldn't meet too gruesome an end.

"She must be drunk, just talking nonsense," one man said, trying to help her. If Derek weren't interested, he wouldn't mind taking the beauty to bed.

The thought alone sent a jolt of heat down his spine.

Unexpectedly, Derek wasn't angry; instead, he smirked, leaning back casually. "Alright then."

Flora's smile widened as she achieved her goal. She fished a wallet from her purse, pulled a few small bills, and pressed them into Derek's hand. "Is this enough?"

Derek glanced down at the crumpled bills in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face. For some reason, he nodded. "It's enough."

Jaws dropped around them. Everyone stared, utterly disbelieving that a man like Derek, who treated money like dirt, would accept payment from a woman. And small bills at that?

Under the astonished gaze of hundreds, Derek casually wrapped an arm around Flora's waist and led her away.

"What the hell? Did we see a ghost?"

In an instant, the buzz of conversation grew louder than the music, drowning out all other sounds.

...

Derek woke up in the middle of the night. He habitually reached out, only to find his arm blocked. A girl was curled against his chest, sleeping soundly. Derek suddenly remembered: he'd spent the night with a woman.

Audacious and brazen-those were the words for her. Still, she was surprisingly sweet. Captivating. Intoxicating.

Derek had initially assumed Flora was experienced, given her appearance and bold words. He hadn't expected her to be an untouched flower. Flora knew nothing; everything was clumsy, yet her awkwardness set her apart and gave Derek a strange sense of accomplishment.