His Little Flower (Felix and Flora) novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80 

The familiar Thram of an engine, like a distant rumble of thunder, turned our heads towards the wrought–iron gates, 

Then, it appeared, sleek and gleaming like a predator emerging from the dappled shadows of the oak trees. Felix’s car, a sleek, black beast of a machine, rumbled into view, its polished curves catching the sunlight with an ostentatious glint. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the low growl of its engine. 

My gaze lingered on the car, tracing the sharp lines of its hood, the sculpted elegance r of its power – distilled into chrome and leather. 

headlights. It was a symbol of Felix’s life – money, privilege, 

As the car rolled to a stop, the engine purring into a satisfied silence, I straightened my shoulders, replacing my nervousness with a neutral mask. 

His door swung open, the rich leather gleaming like another facet of his privileged world. He stepped out, the afternoon sun casting long shadows from his tall frame. His expression was unreadable, the mirth and joy of yesterday seemingly replaced by a cool detachment. 

y the gate. 

The car, with its gleaming paint and rumbling engine, remained silent by 

“Miss White! What are you doing here, fraternizing again?” His vale, laced with venom, echoed in the surroundings as he yelled. 

Liam’s grin melted into a scowl, his list clenching at his site, I felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, my ire. 

my friend caught in the crossfire of Felix’s 

“Mr. Corsino,” I started, choosing my words with the meticulous care one uses when navigating a minefield. “Liam and I were just having lunch.” 

My attempt at reason was met with another volley of spite. Lunch?” he spat, the word dripping with scom. “Don’t you have work to do, both of you? Or is gossiping by the gates your neve preferred task?” 

The only thought in my head was, wow, Felix really hates Lam. But his eyes were trained on me. He wasn’t even 

even looking at Liam. He was just me, head on, daring me to challenge his anger. His eyes were filled with a quiet betrayal and louder range. 

staring at 

“I didn’t hire t 

the help to mingle about and have fun.” 

I gasped. The help? I suddenly felt so…small and belittled. Was this really what he thought of me? of us, in general? Sure, there were worlds and worlds between us. But to be called “the help‘? 

His barb about the “help struck a raw nerve 

“And you, Liam,” Felix sneered, turning his scornful gaze on Liam. “What the fuck do I pay you for? To flirt with the woman who makes my food? Get the fuck back to work, you two.” 

The silence that followed was thick with tension, a tangible rope binding us together, Liam’s dark eyes blazed with a mix of anger and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. In Felix’s eyes, I saw a storm of possessiveness, a desperate clutching at control that masked a deeper, more vulnerable fear. 

“Mr. Corsino,” I said, my voice calm but firm, There’s no need to be rude. It’s our lunch break.” 

Liam nudged my side, “Leave it, Flot” 

The use of the nickname didn’t seem to help. Felix stared at us. “Well? Scurry oll.” 

With those words, he got back into the car and drove in. I turned towards Lian. His eyes were wide. “You’re dut here arguing with the boss, Flora.” He temarked, “I don’t think we should piss him off like this.” 

I rolled my eye, “He was being an ass.” 

“Well, yeah. But still.” He spoke, “Anyway,” he sighed, “Hack to work for the help! See you around, Fla.” 

I nodded and waved him goodbye, and began walking back inside 

The rest of the aftemoon unfolded in a subdued silence. The usual rhythm of polishing and dusting felt duller, the pristine surfaces of the manor reflecting the echo of Felix’s words. But the day bled into dusk, a test message on my phone popped up.. 

“Lunch tomorrow? by the river. Same time. Dont tell Felix 

1/1 

Chapter B 

The next day, beneath the shade of the willow tree, where we usually sat, laughter rippled across the still river like skipping stones. Liam, with his infectious grin and stories spun a very eventful life, indred, was back to his usual self. 

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “After… yesterday. 

I smiled, a tiny flower pushing through the cracks of doubt. “I wanted to.” I said simply. “Because… well, I enjoy our little breaks. It’s nice. And sun is too nice not to sit in.” 

He grinned, a flash of white against his sun–kissed skin. “Right,” he echoed, taking my hand in his, “Good food and sunshine for everyone, that s motto. It’s a good summer.” 

the 

Later at night, I lay on my bed in my room. The sweet silence of the night gave me a great opportunity to read. I had picked up Ocean Wong’s book On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous many months ago, but hadn’t had the time to read it. Now, in silence and peace, I was excited to read the book. I had heard so many good things about it. 

Just as I had finished the tenth page of the day, my phone rang, the silly Kermit the frog version of Taylor Swift’s Cruel Summer ring loudly. 

Tommy. 

I picked it up and was met with a, “Hello!” 

“Hi, Tom Tom” 1 greeted. “What’s up?” 

“Just calling you back.” 

I remembered calling him a few hours earlier and he hadn’t picked up. “Oh yeah,” I said, “I wanted to ask if you’re free on the fourth. And if you want to come to a party with me. 

“Whose party?” 

“Liam.” I answered, “It could be nice. If we don’t like it, we can leave. You can bring your girlfriend if you want. 

“Nah,” he drawled, “She’ll be with her family in Atlanta.” 

“Oh. 

that’s nice.” 

“Just promise you’ll keep me away from any questionable firework enthusiasts, Tommy teased, but he was only half joking. Tommy was actually very 

afraid of fire. 

“No, I won’t” 

A sudden clang, like a fist against metal, made me jump, the phone slipping from my grasp. 

Silence crashed down, suffocating and thick. It took several ragged breaths before I could move, each step towards the door weighted with trepidation. My hand, clammy and cold, hovered over the worn brass knob, a hesitant moth drawn to a flickering flame, 

“Flora?” 

The 

voire, slurred and thick with something stronger than rain, sent chills down my spine. It was Felix, his words muffled by the heavy wood 

Hesitantly, I turned the knob, a crack of light piercing the dimness. Felix stood there, hair plastered to his forelicad, rain clinging to his tailored. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were clouded with a haze I couldnt decipher. 

“Telad?” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper, “What are you doing here?” 

He swayed slightly, his hand gripping the doorframe for support. 

With a sigh, deeper than the ocean groaning outside, I pushed the door open wider, a silent invitation into my sanctuary. Felix stumbled in, the scent of alcohol following him like a phantom companion. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the overflowing side table, the worn the chipped electric kettle I was making tea in 

Silence stretched between us, thick and awkward. I watched as Felix kicked off his shoes, their damp sales leaving dark stains on the carpet. He sank.