Claimed By The CEO

Vincent High School had a girl everyone knew - the name Flora Selena sent ripples wherever people heard it.

Anyone who saw her avoided her. Few people liked her, but even fewer dared to show it.

Because Flora is crazy, she will strangle anyone who dares to oppose her. In tenth grade, Flora was the new student. She clashed with a teacher and beat him up so severely he landed in the hospital. Still, the school didn't dare expel her. Rumour had it she had robust backing.

Flora dyed her hair, painted her nails, put on sharp makeup, and always wore skirts an inch taller than the other female students. From fighting to smoking to skipping class, there was nothing she wouldn't do. Compared to those troublemaking boys, she was a step above.

And even with a reputation like that, the boys welcomed her - because Flora was stunning. She had a kind of mad beauty - the kind that made heads turn again and again.

When Flora turned 18, on her graduation day, she received shocking news. Her father, Otis, wanted her to marry a man nine years her senior: a chronically ill, utterly useless member of the Arnold clan named Derek Arnold.

Of course, the reason Otis gave was very reasonable and very similar to the novels that Flora often read. Their Selena family was in a difficult situation, needing the help of the Arnold family to support them. But of course, there was no such thing as charity without profit; the price they offered was to buy a wife for their incompetent nephew.

The heroine would bite her lip, hold back tears, and marry the guy out of duty in those stories.

But Flora? Hell no.

She would never lower her head. Moreover, why the hell should she care about the Selena family's fate? Every night, she clasped her hands and prayed to God for them to die quickly. There is no way she would sacrifice herself to save them.

And Otis? That man dared to call himself her father?

No. He was the one Flora hated most in the world. She hated him so much she couldn't stand the surname Selena. She would've changed it long ago if it hadn't been for her mother's wish.

The air was thick and tense in the Selena family's dining room.

No one could eat - except Flora. She ate with gusto, ignoring the stares around her. She needed to be full, to have the energy to battle this family.

Otis watched her for a while before slamming his fork onto the table. The sound was quite loud, but it didn't affect Flora. She calmly turned to the maid.

"Aunt Mary, bring me another bowl of fish soup."

"Flora!" Otis cleared his throat, "Have you thought about what I told you two days ago?"

Flora poked at the bacon on the table, her red lips curled up, "I have."

Otis exchanged a hopeful glance with Anna. His voice tightened. "So... will you help save the family?"

Flora raised her eyes. She chuckled at the two people's anticipation, causing Otis to fantasise. He thought that she had agreed, so he smiled at her.

But Flora was just about to pour ice water on his delusions.

"Why would I do something so boring?" she said flatly. "Don't get it twisted. I came back to eat because it was my mother's death anniversary. I have no interest in helping you."

Her gaze locked on Otis, colder and colder. Otis also felt guilty; he coughed a few times and said. "There have been so many things going on in the company recently, I almost forgot..."

"You never remember", Flora said coldly; under the light, her red hair stood out even more. "If you don't remember, then let me remind you why my mother had to jump off the building..."

Otis and Anna's faces turned pale.

Alice couldn't stand it either; she frowned and pulled out a chair. "Every time you come back, this house is in chaos, and we can't even eat in peace."

Flora's eyes flashed, and she smiled. "If you're that annoying, get lost; I'm talking to him; it's not your turn to speak up, a brat."

"Alright, you two, stop arguing..." Anna grabbed Alice's hand, stopping her daughter from continuing. "It's been so long since your sister came home. Don't make her angry."

"What, sister? I don't want some spoiled brat for a sister." Alice scowled, but under Anna's warning gaze, she gritted her teeth and fell silent.

Flora opened her handbag, pulled out a bright red lipstick, and slowly applied it to her lips. Then she sneered, "Auntie, how about this-you sell your beloved daughter to the Arnold family instead. That way, this dying family of yours might survive. Not a bad idea, right?"

Anna's face stiffened, pretending to be calm as she spoke. "You know how to joke. Our Alice is only fifteen; she's still just a child. Compared to Derek, the gap is a bit big..."

"Oh..." Flora drawled, her captivating eyes narrowing slightly. "Still a child, is she? Funny, I heard your daughter is fooling around with her teacher at school; that man seems to be..." She turned to Otis, mockery brimming in her eyes, unable to suppress a laugh. "Only five years younger than you."

Otis's eyes turned red with anger, and as soon as he heard that, he turned to question Alice. "Is your sister right?"

Alice trembled like a frightened puppy. She didn't dare look at Otis, only glaring daggers at Flora.

Anna knew that Otis had a hot temper, afraid that he would hit Alice, so she immediately spoke up to relieve the situation. "Enough, enough! That's nonsense. You're only hearing Flora's side of the story. How could our Alice possibly do something like that?"

Alice's face was pale, her lips moving. "That's right... Dad, I don't have..."

Finding it tedious, Flora kicked back her chair and stood. Her icy gaze swept over each of them, a venomous smile spreading across her lips. "May this family crumble soon, and may you all die without a grave! And frankly, the only reason I'm alive is because my mother fought tooth and nail to keep me. So you have no right whatsoever, old man."

"You ungrateful brat! Talking to your father like that? I raised you, and this is how you repay me?" Otis wanted to raise his hand to slap her, but Flora was no longer a little girl for him to beat at will. She grabbed Otis's arm; each word was as sharp as a knife. "Aside from grudgingly giving me life, what else have you ever given me?"

Otis had a history of heart problems; he was provoked to such fury that his lips turned white, and his whole body trembled, barely able to stand. Anna rushed to support him, crocodile tears streaming down her face. "Don't get upset! Every time you get angry, your condition flares up. It's bad for your health."

Otis's trembling finger pointed at Flora. "Ungrateful wretch... If you leave today. I'll consider myself daughterless..."

Flora crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping dismissively around the house before she spoke nonchalantly. "That was my intention exactly."

With that, she grabbed her purse, her heels clicking sharply on the floor as she walked away, back straight. She ignored Otis's stream of curses, never looking back.

Heaven only knew how much she loathed this place they called home.

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.

Derek frowned and walked closer. "What the hell are you doing out there?" he yelled, anger flaring.

Flora stood on the balcony railing, one leg lifted as if poised to jump. Hearing his voice, she turned to look at him, and the previous night's events replayed in her mind like an endless reel.

She gave her first time to a stranger-and felt no fear, no regret-just an eerie sense of calm.

"Speak! What are you trying to do?" Derek demanded coldly.

Unafraid of death, Flora sat down on the railing, legs dangling nonchalantly over the edge. Her gaze drifted downwards, a mixture of despair and sorrow in her eyes.

Perhaps because it was the anniversary of her mother's death, she couldn't help but dwell on it. She just wanted to feel what it was like, sitting up high, trying to imagine what her mother must have been thinking that day to be so ruthless with herself. She'd thrown herself from the seventh story of the mall without a shred of attachment left for this world.

Her little daughter had followed her, but she hadn't even glanced back.

"If you want to die, don't make trouble for others." Derek offered no comfort, his voice even colder than before.

Flora let out a sharp breath and climbed back onto the balcony floor. She looked at him, her bleak eyes incredibly cold. She smoothed down her wind-tousled red hair and offered a small smile. "I wasn't going to jump. I'm just testing the feeling. Would I splatter if I jumped from this high up?"

Derek stared at her, his expression complex. He'd never met someone so crazy.

The cold wind sobered Flora considerably. She pulled her robe tighter and walked back into the room. She didn't bother with slippers, letting her feet grow numb from the cold floor. Sitting on the bed, she casually retrieved a cigarette from Derek's jacket pocket, lit it, and brought it to her lips.

She saw the man still watching her through the haze of white smoke. Remembering something, she pulled out her wallet and started counting bills. "Hey, handsome," she began, her voice laced with casual amusement, "what's the rate for tonight?"

Derek had lived nearly thirty years, never expecting to be toyed with by some kid. A smirk touched his lips as he decided to play along shamelessly. "I don't need money. I need someone to take responsibility."

Flora's fingers froze for a fraction of a second. She blinked, then scanned the shameless man before her with open mockery. "'Uncle?'" she drawled. "How old are you, talking that kind of shameless crap?"

Derek froze. Uncle? Had she just called him uncle? Was he really that old?

"What did you call me?"

"'Uncle,'" Flora repeated nonchalantly, standing up. She said under Derek's burning gaze, "I just bought one night, old man. No intention of sticking around. Name your price."

Derek's embarrassment quickly turned to anger, the first time someone had provoked him to the point where he could only manage a smile-though this smile held a chilling edge. "Do I look like I need the money?"

Flora shook her head. A glance around the luxurious suite told her he'd rented it; she'd been blackout drunk earlier, after all.

Flora picked up her handbag and tossed Derek a card. "There's nine grand left on it. I know you don't need the money, but I like things square. Keep it or toss it, your choice."

Derek pinched the card between two fingers, a mocking smile on his lips. "Tell me, is anyone more audacious than you?"

"Yeah. The guy standing right in front of me." Flora adjusted her clothes, ready to leave.

Derek watched her retreating, his eyes narrowing shrewdly.

A girl who demanded nothing made no fuss. Who proactively paid him after a wild night-a first. It only piqued his curiosity and interest further.

"Wait," Derek called out.

Flora tilted her head, calm as ever. "What now?"

A wickedly gorgeous smile played on her lips. Then she dropped the bomb, her voice all sweet venom.

"Don't tell me you've fallen for me already, Uncle. That's cute. But I'm not into older men."

She deliberately emphasized the last words, an apparent jab at Derek's age.

A vein pulsed at Derek's temple as he tightened his grip on the card. "Did you get shot in the mouth or something? Is it that hard for you to say something decent?"

"Consider it so," Flora replied indifferently. Truthfully, her mood today had plummeted to rock bottom. Not only did she feel like spewing venom, she felt like killing someone.

If she were crazy enough, she'd grab a torch and a can of gasoline, storm the Selena mansion, and burn the whole place down-along with those hypocrites inside it.

"Goodbye. Hope we don't meet again." Flora closed the door behind her.

Derek sat motionless for a moment. Then, his fingers brushed against another card in his pocket-Flora's student ID. The photo showed a girl with the lingering innocence of adolescence, but her eyes held a cool indifference, paired with a cocky smirk that didn't match her youth.

"Eighteen?" Derek murmured. If he remembered correctly, he'd just turned twenty-seven, right? That meant he was nine years older.

Why did Derek suddenly feel like a cradle robber?

His gaze fell on her name again: Flora. It sounded familiar like he'd heard it somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place it.

A sudden realization dawned on Derek. Wasn't that the name of his young fiancée? An idea sparked in his mind. He immediately called his friend, Alex, to investigate her.

Surely the world couldn't be that coincidental?