BILLIONAIRES: Father or Son

Chapter Eighteen

FLORA'S POV

The house was strangely quiet when I returned. A different kind of quiet—the kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. I had expected to see the eviction crew or at least hear the heavy thud of footsteps and the banging of boxes, but when I stepped inside, it was just... still.

"Where did they go?" I asked, frowning at Sasha and my mother, who were seated in the tiny living room. They exchanged a look, and Sasha shrugged.

"Got a call," she replied, gesturing vaguely toward the front door as if the answer lay somewhere out there. "One minute, they were muttering about getting things done 'swiftly and efficiently,' the next minute they packed up and left like their pants were on fire."

I blinked, trying to process that. Jayden's men were never that easy to get rid of. I knew him too well—he was the kind of narcissist who loved to dangle power over people like a puppet master yanking strings. This was his favorite kind of game: to push until you felt cornered and helpless, then swoop in like some twisted savior.

"What do you think happened?" Mom asked, watching me closely, her expression guarded.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But Jayden's behind it all."

He was probably trying to rattle me, to see if I would cave and run back to him. He had done it before—making me feel like every door in my life was closing until I had nowhere to go except back to him. But this time, I wasn't playing along. I wasn't falling for his manipulation, and I was determined to prove it to him. With the support of my mother and Sasha, I could face any storm he threw my way. That was what Jayden didn't understand.

I had loved Jayden once. I had been so deeply, foolishly in love that I hadn't seen the red flags waving all around me. But love alone couldn't carry the weight of his family's constant judgment and cruelty. I had put up with it, kept quiet, and stayed—mainly because I was too afraid of what people would say if I walked away. Too afraid of disappointing my own family.

But now, standing here in the aftermath of a storm I was determined to weather, I felt something I hadn't felt in years: clarity. There was no fear in my resolve. No wavering. I had made my choice, and there was no going back.

"It's just a house, Mom," I said softly, my gaze drifting around the small living room with its peeling wallpaper and sagging sofa. "We'll find another place. It's time for a fresh start, anyway."

It broke my heart that we were being asked to vacate this house because we had so many memories here. But it was becoming increasingly unbearable to deal with Jayden and the entire Kensington family. I made up my mind to find another place with the small savings I had managed to accumulate from Lisette's meager allowances.

Mom nodded slowly, and Sasha gave me a supportive smile. I knew they were both worried—our savings were thin, and the idea of starting over in a new place with so little was daunting. But I also knew they believed in me. They had faith that we would make it through this. Their support was all I needed.

After dinner, I retreated to my room, my heart heavy yet oddly light at the same time. The bed creaked as I flopped down onto it, staring up at the ceiling. And then, without warning, a very different face flashed into my mind.

Alexander Bennett.

I groaned softly, burying my face in the pillow. Why was I thinking about him now? It's not like we had shared some grand, meaningful moment. He had mistaken me for someone else, and barked at me to kneel—yet somehow, the memory of his gaze lingering on mine, the unexpected softness in his voice as he complimented my eyes, was all I could think about.