All Chapters of Oops, I Kissed My Villain Boss : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Florence's POV. Anthony returned to the hall like a storm pretending to be sunshine. The doors opened, and he walked in with the kind of poise that demanded silence, though his eyes betrayed him. He was definitely furious, I could tell by the tightness in his jaw, the faint tremor of his hand as he adjusted his cufflinks, and the fact that he didn’t so much as glance my way. Instead, he plastered on a mask of cool civility, his voice smooth as he addressed the investors. “I apologize for the delay. There was a minor disturbance outside, but it has been handled.” Handled. The word hung in the air like the echo of a threat. Yeah something bad had occurred. I wanted to ask what happened, but the way he didn’t even look at me made my throat tighten. Instead, I watched as he poured the investors wine himself—a gesture so out of character that it only confirmed how hard he was working to hide whatever had rattled him. I looked towards the entrance but it was clear. Only the usual g

Florence's POV The impostor’s face faltered, his act cracking like shattered glass.“You don’t,” I hissed, taking another step closer, trembling with rage. “Because you’re not him. You’re a parasite. A coward hiding behind someone else’s skin.”For a moment, silence scorched the room. My chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. I turned sharply to Anthony, my eyes burning. “Look at him. Look at me. And tell me you trust him more than you trust me.”Anthony didn’t answer immediately. His silence was a blade hovering over me. But I held his gaze anyway, desperate, furious, unyielding.“Trust me,” I whispered, almost broken, but with steel in every syllable. “Because I am telling you the truth.”Anthony’s stare was unreadable, carved from stone. “Trust you? When every piece of evidence points to the opposite?” His voice was sharp, cutting. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folder, tossing it onto the desk. Pages spilled out—bank records, photographs, contracts—all stamped with

Florence's POV.The storm outside felt like an extension of the one inside me. Thunder roared against the glass walls, lightning split the sky into jagged scars, and yet it was his silence—Anthony’s silence—that rattled me the most.I stood in front of him, arms crossed, my pulse beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”Anthony leaned back against the edge of his desk, his posture deceptively relaxed, but his eyes—dark, unyielding—were locked on me like shackles. “I believe what I see, Florence. And what I saw tonight was a man with enough proof to raise questions you refuse to answer.”The words sliced straight through me, cruel and deliberate. I laughed bitterly, though the sound broke halfway. “Proof? He could barely tell me my own brother’s birthday. He couldn’t even say my mother’s name! And yet you—” My voice cracked, my throat tight. “You looked at me like you already decided I was guilty.”His jaw ticked, but his stare didn’t waver. “

Florence's POV I tucked the blanket around my mother like if I wrapped her tight enough, she might stop trembling in her sleep. Her chest rose and fell in ragged sighs, a sound that made me want to crawl out of my own skin. The sedative was finally working, thank God, but I knew the peace wouldn’t last. It never did. Eventually she would have another episode and the same thing would repeat itself again. The weight of her stillness, the unnatural quiet that replaced her screaming, pressed down on my chest. She looked so small now, fragile, her face pale and etched with exhaustion. She had aged faster than she should. A woman burdened so much that her mind could not take it. I lingered for a moment longer, watching the faint but final flutter of her eyelids.I then turned to what was left of the room. The littered floor, the splintered chair leg, the shards of porcelain, the picture frames reduced to glittering knives of glass. My mother’s hysteria had destroyed half the room, and if

Florence's POV My hands trembled as I took it from him. “Where did you get this?”“Check it out first,” he said. “Then I’ll explain.”I wanted to scream, to hit him, to make him say it right there and then—but the look in his eyes stopped me. That raw, dangerous mix of guilt and control. Whatever was on that drive, it mattered.I turned away from him and hurried upstairs. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped the flash drive twice before I reached my room. I grabbed my laptop, ran back down, and plugged it in.Anthony stood by the kitchen counter, watching me in silence.Rain pounded the roof, thunder rolling somewhere in the distance. The laptop screen flickered once, twice, and then a grainy video started to play.“What is this?” I whispered.“It’s surveillance footage,” he said. “From the docks.”The image was shaky, black and white, a long stretch of metal containers stacked high, like the spine of some massive beast. Floodlights glared against the rain. And then, movem