All Chapters of Oops, I Kissed My Villain Boss : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Florence POV.Gunfire cracked like thunder splitting the day. Screams tore through the air as the pedestrians scattered in every direction, heels slapping against pavement, groceries spilling, car doors slamming shut in panicked haste.The crowd was frantic, people running, stumbling and climbing over others that had fallen in a bid to get to safety.Anthony shoved me down, one arm locking around my shoulders, the other pressing my head to his chest as bullets whistled over us. "Godswill!" His voice was like steel cutting through chaos. "Shoot back! Don't let them pin us down."My ears rang. My body was shaking so badly I could hardly breathe. I clutched at his sleeve, nails digging into fabric, too stunned to move.Another round of gunshots came, destroying the glass walls behind us. We ducked down, Anthony shielding me as the broken pieces rained over us."Godswill, shoot back damn it." Anthony roared drawing me closer to him. Godswill’s gun barked in return fire, sharp and mercile

The car rolled to a stop in front of the police station, and before the driver even shifted into parking, I was already tugging at the door handle ready to fly off into the station. “Miss Florence,” the driver blurted out frantically, leaning his torso halfway across the console. “Please, let's go back. Just… don’t do this. Let’s go back and do what My St.Louis. You don’t need to be here and I don't need to be caught as well. The boss gave me specific instructions that I have to compile with no matter what. Please don't do this to me and to yourself.” I froze, one foot already on the ground, turned around staring back at him. His face was pale, beads of sweat clinging to his hairline though the air-conditioner hummed softly. “Go back?” I echoed, feeling confused. “After what just happened? After bullets rained down in broad daylight? You think I’m just going to sit in Anthony’s house twiddling my thumbs while people try to kill me? Come on I don't trust that man to the point I will

Florence POV.The ride back home felt endless, a silent purgatory. The driver’s eyes, glimpsed in the rearview mirror, were carefully, professionally blank, which was somehow more humiliating than judgment would have been. My mind was a broken reel, replaying every micro-expression on Anthony’s face: the flatness, the coldness, the final, devastating flicker of disgust. I had told myself his opinion was irrelevant, that I was the one playing him, but the hollow, aching void in my chest was a traitorous, physical truth. When the car finally crunched to a halt on the gravel driveway,I didn’t speak. I just shoved the door open and stumbled out, wanting only the sanctuary of four walls, however fragile, to contain my shame. But the moment my hand touched the cold brass of the front door knob,I knew sanctuary was a fantasy. The house didn’t feel empty; it felt just wrong. The air that seeped out from the crack in the door was thick, stale, and humming with a dissonant energy. It was th

Florence's POV.I pushed my way through the revolving doors of the towering glass building, my heels clicking against the marble floors with a rhythm far too cheerful for the atmosphere i stepped into.My steps slowed down. Something was… off. Very off. The lobby was unrecognizable. It was like I had entered into a new world.Flowers in elaborate vases lined every corner—lilies, roses, carnations—all in shades of red. Petals dusted the polished marble floors like crimson confetti. Heart-shaped balloons floated against the ceiling, their glossy surfaces reflecting the lights in mocking pinks and reds. Even the usually austere reception desk had ribbons trailing down its sides.My brows shot up. “What in the name of tacky Hallmark…?” I whispered under my breath.But it wasn’t the decorations that unnerved me. It was the silence. No chatter, no phone calls, no hum of busy workers rushing about. The place felt frozen, as if i had walked into a mausoleum disguised as a carnival. And the

Florence's POV.I stood in the middle of the office, my arms folded tight across my chest like a shield. The hum of whispers and the shuffle of papers around me weren’t subtle—every single employee was stealing glances, watching me and Anthony like we were some cheap soap opera. The air was thick, like it was daring one of us to snap.He stopped in his tracks, turning to see that I hadn't moved an inch. My disapproval was evident on my face.Anthony’s gaze was steady on me as we walked forward, his jaw carved from steel. “Florence,” he said, low but sharp, “we need to move away from here.”I should have listened. I should have taken the easy way out, kept my head down, and walked quietly to wherever he wanted me. But no—my anger was boiling too close to the surface. The more I saw the people watching, the more my insides screamed that I wasn’t going to back down. Not this time.“Why?” I hissed, my voice cracking slightly, betraying the tremor underneath. “Because you don’t want your