CHAPTER 20
Title: The Warning Beneath the Smile
POV: Florida Smith
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"You're my wife. You know what to do."
Bryant's voice was flat, almost bored, as he tossed a dark velvet box onto her vanity. Florida stared at it in silence. Inside was a set of pearls—simple, expensive, soulless.
She hadn't been given a choice. She never was.
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They arrived late to the brunch, and still, every head turned.
Florida's heels clicked across the marble floor like a countdown. Her dress—pale ivory with delicate folds—hugged her carefully. She looked the part, perfect and poised, but she could feel the judgment crawl up her spine before the whispers began.
> "Isn't she the one from the photo?" "The new wife? Quiet, isn't she?" "Pretty. But cheap pretty."
Bryant didn't flinch. He walked beside her, a hand on her lower back—possessive for the crowd, impersonal in truth. A carefully rehearsed illusion.
No one smiled at her.
They smiled at him.
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The brunch was hosted by one of Bryant's father's old business partners, a stiff man with oil-slicked hair and a diamond wife. The kind of event where alliances were sealed with fake laughs and subtle power plays.
Florida sat beside Bryant. She smiled when expected. She sipped when the toast came. She did everything perfectly.
And still, she didn't belong.
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Halfway through the event, the mood shifted.
The whispers turned hungry.
A new arrival entered—uninvited but unmistakably welcome.
Liza Brown.
She wore red—deep, almost blood. Her lips matched, and her smile could slice silk. Her eyes swept the room, landed on Bryant... then paused, slowly, on Florida.
She approached like a queen.
> "Darling," Liza purred to Florida, eyes never blinking, "you look so lovely today. You've improved."
The compliment had venom in its softness.
Florida offered a stiff smile. "Thank you."
Liza leaned in, close enough to seem intimate. Her perfume was overpowering.
> "Careful," she whispered sweetly. "In this world, people only remember the woman who keeps his attention… not the one who keeps his last name."
And just like that, she walked away.
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Bryant didn't react.
He didn't defend her.
He didn't even look her way.
Just sipped his wine and stared forward like nothing had happened.
Florida's throat burned.
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She excused herself quietly and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She braced both hands on the sink and took slow, deep breaths.
Her hands were trembling.
> No tears.
Not here.
She pulled out her phone, needing any distraction.
1 New Email – Noir Texture Studio
Subject: Final Round Invitation
> "Congratulations. You've been shortlisted. We'd love to meet 'FLD' in person. Kindly confirm availability for next week's in-person interview. Location: Lancaster City."
Her heart thumped once. Then again.
Lancaster was five hours away. The contract said she couldn't leave without notifying the Kings security detail. Technically—legally—she couldn't go.
But Noir Texture didn't know she was Mrs. Bryant Kings.
They only knew her as FLD.
And they loved FLD.
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When she returned to the table, Liza was already seated next to Bryant now, chatting with another guest like she belonged there. Bryant hadn't moved.
Florida sat beside him again.
She smiled.
Not the soft kind. Not the apologetic kind.
The kind that says: I've decided something. And you won't stop me.
She leaned closer, voice low.
> "You don't want scandal, Bryant?"
"Then watch me rewrite the whole script."
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End of Chapter 20