Retribution in Bloom

I Will Not Let History Repeat Itself

My blood ran cold.

I kept my head lowered, my fingers absently rubbing the handle of my coffee cup. Then, suddenly, my grip tightened, and a cold gleam flickered in my eyes.

'Who does Michele think she is? Just some shameless woman throwing herself at a man, desperate for attention, fawning over someone who doesn't care about her.

'Without my son's heart, she wouldn't be alive today,' I mused. 'And she has the nerve to come here and humiliate me? On what grounds?'

My fingertips clutched the cup's handle more tightly than ever, and the temptation to fling the hot coffee straight into Michele's smug face was overwhelming.

But I knew that the time was not right, and for now, I had to endure.

After what felt like an eternity, I released my grip on the cup.

I slowly picked up the bank card that had been lying on the table between us.

Calmly, I pushed it back across to her, put on an innocent expression, and said, "Mrs. Langley, you've got it all wrong. There's nothing between me and Mr. Langley. It's just a professional relationship. That's all."

I feigned confusion, my tone almost pitying as I commented, "Why be so paranoid? Do you not have any confidence in yourself?"

Michele hadn't expected me to be so unyielding and composed. She was visibly caught off guard.

Her face twisted with barely restrained fury as she muttered, "Adrianna, you'd better watch yourself!"

She grabbed the card and, without another word, stormed out.

…

After leaving the cafe, I walked along the streets alone, my brows furrowed deep in thought. 'Michele's suspicions are mounting. What should I do now? I needed to secure my position with Scott quickly, but how?'

Lost in my contemplations, I was suddenly jolted back to reality by the roar of a vehicle, causing me to flinch.

Instinctively, I turned toward the source of the noise.

At the far end of the street, near the intersection, a big truck was barreling toward me.

A light-bulb moment struck me.

'Scott's first love had died in a car crash, right? Hit by a speeding vehicle, her life had ended in a sudden, violent tragedy.' I thought to myself.

Hence, I was left with no choice but to gamble on this.

With my mind made up, I quickly pulled out my phone and dialed Scott.

"Adrianna, why aren't you at work?" Scott's voice came through.

"Mr. Langley!" My voice trembled, weak and shaky as if I were on the verge of tears. "Just now, Mrs. Langley had her men drag me to a cafe. She threw a bank card in my face and told me to take it and disappear from your life.

"I tried to explain to her that it was all a misunderstanding, but she wouldn't believe me. She even warned me to be careful. And I—"

Before I could finish the sentence, I was interrupted by the sharp roar of a truck's engine.

Then, all I could hear was my own terrified scream. "Ah!"

My body was hurled through the air like a ragdoll, everything fading to black as the phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the ground.

From the phone, Scott's anxious voice echoed faintly, growing more distant with every second. "Adrianna? Adrianna!"

…

I woke up to find myself lying in a hospital bed.

I sucked in a gasp of pain.

Just the thought of moving sent waves of pain through every inch of my body.

"Don't move!" The deep, commanding voice startled me, and then I felt a strong arm wrap gently but firmly around my weak shoulders, preventing me from sitting up.

The heat of his body was unmistakable as it seeped into me, and I was momentarily too stunned to react before I looked up.

His face, etched with concern, hovered into view. A lump formed in my throat, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. "Mr. Langley…" My voice broke with emotion.

As I looked up at him, tears filled my eyes. My lips quivered, and I felt as vulnerable as a frightened deer. "That truck… It came right at me. I thought… I thought I was going to die."

"Mr. Langley, I'm so scared! Mrs. Langley… She'll never let me go." My voice trembled as I clung tightly to his suit.

My pitiful expression was designed to evoke protective instincts, particularly given my resemblance to his deceased lover.

He hesitated, but only for a moment. His hand, rough yet gentle, traced the curve of my cheek with pity.

"She won't," he murmured, his voice laden with emotion. "I won't let the same thing happen again."

The word 'again' hung heavy in the air, carrying with it an unspoken meaning. It seemed he sought to compensate for the regret he harbored over his previous lover by transferring his affections to me.

If it meant reclaiming my son's heart, I was willing to become a substitute for someone who had died long ago.

Without hesitation, I collapsed into his arms and wrapped myself around his sturdy waist.

His breathing grew ragged, his emotions finally stirring.

His hand, previously still, became restless and began to reach for my collar.

Just then, the door to the ward slammed open with a bang, and Michele burst in.