From Discarded Wife To The Don's Successor

Florence Horton POV Leaving the building wasn't an option. "There's a discrepancy in the accounts," Julius had announced the moment I reached the lobby. "Until the audit is done, you stay here. We need you to answer questions." Before I could protest, security dragged me to the server room in the basement. It was little more than a windowless concrete box, vibrating with the drone of cooling fans. Essentially a broom closet with a desk. "You work here now," David, Julius's spineless associate, said, tossing a stack of files on the metal table. "Julius wants a proposal for the Museum Contract written by morning. Under Kenzie's name. Consider it an apology for your behavior." "And if I don't?" "He says Ava's school has a very loose pickup policy." The threat hung heavy in the cold air. I sat down. The chair was broken, listing to the left. "Fine," I said. David left, locking the door from the outside. I waited until the echo of his footsteps faded. Immediately, I turned on the computer. They had revoked my admin access, naturally. But they were idiots. I hadn't just used this system; I had installed it. I knew the backdoors better than I knew my own apartment. I wasn't writing a proposal. I typed in a command line. The screen flickered green. *Access Granted.* I went straight to the financial records. The real ones. Not the sanitized versions they showed the IRS. It was worse than I thought. Julius hadn't just stolen five million. He had drained the operating capital dry. He was leveraging the company assets to pay off gambling debts and fund Kenzie's insatiable lifestyle. But then I found it. The "Black Ledger." The file was buried deep in a subfolder named 'Old Blueprints'. It contained the names of every bribe Julius had paid. Every building inspector compensated to ignore safety violations. Every union rep he had tried to bypass. And the materials. My breath hitched. For the new pediatric wing at the city hospital—a project I had poured my heart into—he had swapped the fire-retardant insulation for cheap, flammable filler. All to shave a fraction off the cost. He had turned a hospital into a tinderbox. I plugged in my encrypted drive. The download bar crawled across the screen. *20%... 50%...* The door banged open. Julius stood there, his face a mottled purple with rage. Kenzie was behind him, looking gleeful. "Corporate espionage!" Julius screamed. "I knew it!" He stormed into the room. He saw the drive. He yanked it out of the computer. "Stealing company secrets?" he hissed. "Saving lives," I said, standing up. "You used flammable insulation in the pediatric wing, Julius. Are you trying to kill children?" "I'm trying to make a profit!" he roared. "Something you never understood!" He grabbed me by the hair, yanking my head back. He dragged me out of the room, into the hallway where the senior partners were gathering for a meeting. "Look at her!" he shouted to the room. "Stealing from us! After everything we gave her!" He threw me to the floor. "Get the security!" he barked. "Teach her a lesson." Two guards stepped forward. They had batons. "Julius," one of the partners started, looking uncomfortable but making no move to intervene. "Do it!" Julius screamed. "She's a thief! A rat!" The first blow hit my ribs. I curled into a ball. The second hit my thigh. I didn't make a sound. *Omertà.* Silence. Pain is temporary. Pride is forever. Julius stood over me, panting. "You're fired, Florence. You have nothing. You are nothing." I looked up at him through a curtain of hair. My lip was split, blood dripping onto the marble floor. "You just dug your own grave," I whispered. He laughed. "Get her out of my sight." Darkness took me in the elevator. * I woke up in the Horton Clinic again. My body felt like it was made of lead. Every breath was a struggle against bruised ribs. Horacio was sitting in the chair. He was cleaning a gun. A beautiful, silver 1911. "They dumped you on the sidewalk," he said. He didn't look up, his focus entirely on the weapon. "Like garbage." "Is the drive safe?" I asked. My voice was a broken croak. He nodded. "You swallowed the micro-SD card before you passed out. We retrieved it." I smiled. It hurt. "Good." The door opened. I expected a nurse. But I heard raised voices in the hallway. "She's my wife! I have a right to see her!" Julius. He burst into the room, shoving past a protesting orderly. He didn't see Horacio in the shadowed corner. He only saw me. "You have the backup," he accused, marching to the bed. "Where is it? The server logs show a dual copy." I looked at him. He was sweating. He knew the insulation data would send him to prison for life. I gathered all the saliva in my mouth. It was mixed with the copper taste of blood. I spat in his face. "Ask your whore," I rasped. Julius wiped his face, his eyes bulging. He raised his hand to strike me again. *Click.* The sound of the hammer cocking on the 1911 was louder than a cannon shot in the small room. Julius froze. He turned slowly. Horacio stood up. He pointed the gun directly at Julius's forehead. "Touch my daughter again," the Don said, his voice terrifyingly calm, "and I will paint this room with your brains." Julius turned pale. He looked from the gun to me, confusion warring with terror. "Who... who is this?" "I told you," I said, closing my eyes, exhaustion finally taking over. "My father." "Get out," Horacio said. Julius ran.