Chapter 8 Eight

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.

Florence's POV

"What's wrong Miss Davidson." Just one question from him and I cracked telling him everything about the men, the store, the way they followed me, the fear that hadn't left my chest since. I hated that I sounded breathless and weak, but I couldn't hold it in. It all came pouring out, a torrent of frantic, jumbled words. My eyes were hot with tears that were ready to fall at any given time.

Anthony didn't interrupt me as I spoke. He only reached for his phone and dialed with steady, unnervingly calm fingers. "God'swill. Call Inspector David. Tell him I'll need him immediately."

I blinked, confused. "What-what are you doing? Inspector David? Why are you calling the police?"

Anthony's eyes met mine, steel and fire in equal measure. "Because I have an idea who's behind this, Florence. But I don't work with guesses. I work with proof and so I need to get some."

The finality in his tone made my throat dry. For a moment I forgot my fear of the men outside and focused instead on him, the dangerous calm of someone who didn't panic even when lives were at stake. It was a cold, quiet power, the kind that both repelled and captivated me.

Minutes later, Godswill entered the office, his face tense. "Boss, Inspector David says they need you down at the station right now. He says it's urgent."

Anthony stood, grabbing his jacket with one smooth, unhurried motion. "I'll be there."

I moved instinctively, following him as he strode out of the office. "I'm coming with you."

"No." He didn't look at me, didn't break his stride.

"Yes." I caught up to him, my heels clacking against the polished floor, a staccato of defiance. "You can't just leave me after what happened. Whoever those men were, they were after me. You expect me to go home and wait?"

Anthony finally turned, his hand firm as he grasped my arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Miss Davidson, this is not your world. If you're smart, you'll step away from me before you get buried in it."

"Well now I've unfortunately been roped in it from the moment my brother was taken and now the incident from yesterday."

"It could just be a coincidence."

"Yeah right," I scoffed sarcastically. "We both know that's not true. It's all connected and I am coming with you."

"I am not going to protect you if anything happens." He said.

"I don't need your protection all I need are answers and that's all. I can take care of myself."

Anthony and I had a stare down for about a minute until Godswill cough brought us back.

"Um.. boss is she coming." He asked unsure.

I turned to Anthony waiting for his answer.

"Let her do whatever she wants." He said after much silence. "It has nothing to do with me let's go."

He said then briskly took his coat and walked out of the office with Godswill in tow. I quickly went after them holding only my card and my phone in hand.

We entered the elevator and rushed out the door once it opened up. The car was waiting right outside the office door.

I made to enter after Godswill opened the door but I was dragged back by Anthony.

"What are you doing? Let go of me." I tried to loosen his hold but his grip on my forearm was just too tight.

"Look at me." He said. "Where we are going is way too dangerous for you to go."

"I don't care okay. I keep telling you that I want answers."

"There are safer ways to get answers. Endangering you life for this isn't going to make sense."

"Staying back and waiting is not making sense as well. I want to go and so you don't get to stop me. Why do you care so much? You are the one that wanted to get rid of me so badly so what's with the attention now."

Anthony's jaw clenched. He opened his mouth to argue again, but the sudden sound cut through the night before he could speak.

Gunfire.

Bullets rained down with the deafening roar of chaos. Glass shattered, a thousand tiny diamonds glittering in the air as the building's entrance gave way. Screams tore through the air, and people scattered in a panic that mirrored my own from just moments ago.

Anthony reacted instantly. He grabbed me, yanking me against his chest with a force that stole the air from my lungs. He pulled me down behind the nearest car, his body shielding mine completely, the heat of him a stark contrast to the cold fear that had been my companion all night. Bullets sparked off the metal of the car just inches away from my head.

"Stay down!" he growled, his voice rough with authority, a command I had no choice but to obey.

My entire body trembled, adrenaline spiking through my veins like electricity. The panic from the grocery store multiplied tenfold, but in the midst of the chaos, all I could feel was Anthony's arms around me, his strength anchoring me to the ground as the world fell apart around us.

And in that moment, as death rained from the night sky, I realized something terrifying-Anthony wasn't just my arrogant boss. He was the storm itself. He was the eye of the hurricane, the calm center of a maelstrom. And I, against all my better judgment, had just walked right into it.