Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

"Enough!" Mitch's voice sliced through the tension in the room like a hot knife

through butter. Instantly, an uneasy silence fell over the crowd, each person too

wary of Mitch's temper to dare speak.

Without missing a beat, Fiona marched straight over to the man who had been

running his mouth. She hoisted him up as if he were no heavier than a ragdoll and

slammed him to the floor with a force that left everyone gaping in disbelief.

It was hard to fathom that such power resided in a young woman, and Fiona's

effortless display of strength left the room in stunned silence.

The man hit the ground with a thud, groaning as pain rippled through his body.

"Fiona, you've just returned. It's best not to lose your temper," Mitch finally

intervened, his tone more measured.

The man on the ground looked as if he had been thrown a lifeline, casting a smug

glance at Fiona as he struggled to his feet.

"Yes, it's indeed best not to lose my temper," Fiona agreed. But then, with a swift

kick to his chest, there was a sickening crack-likely a rib giving way. He cried

out, blood trickling from his lips, while Fiona leaned down and mused, "If I'm not

supposed to lose my temper, why are you trying to stand up?"

Fiona's defiance was unmistakable, her foot planted firmly on the man's chest as

she looked up at Mitch with an innocent grin. "Actually, I'm more interested in the

topic we were just discussing."

Mitch's face darkened, his calm composure slipping. Fiona could see he was on

the brink, ready to be pushed into a corner.

"The Stonnell family can't afford to have secret dealings with the Larkin family.

That would be like setting ourselves on fire, and the Woods family would hold itnoveldrama

against us. It's simply not worth the risk."

Mitch finally conceded, his anger simmering beneath the surface, though he

maintained a mask of geniality.

"If someone in the Stonnell family is

cozying up to the Larkin family, it

needs to be rooted out. Our family

can't be led around by the nose. I will

handle it. Fiona, you'll represent the

Stonnell family at the Larkin's

upcoming gala. It's time the States

see the strength of our new

generation."

Although Mitch's face was calm, his

grip on the chair's armrest was tight,

his knuckles pale from the strain, the

wrinkles on his hand stretched

smooth.

The tension was palpable, and Fiona was keenly aware of his anger.

"As for the one under your foot, he's still one of us. Blood is thicker than water,

and whatever happens, we must show mercy."

"Alright! Since the patriarch has spoken, who am I to object? But his words were

pretty harsh, and one kick isn't enough to cool my temper."

With another decisive kick, Fiona sent the man into the realm of unconsciousness,

likely with a fractured spine.

Her eyes then landed on the

invitation lying on the table. The

texture and fine details of the card

were clearly a cut above the photo

Tyler had sent her-definitely worth

a pretty penny.

"I'll be back," she announced.

With that, Fiona cast a lingering glance at the Stonnell family, swung onto her

motorcycle, and roared away.

The Stonnell family members, looking as if they'd seen a ghost, quickly mumbled

apologies to Mitch before making a hasty exit from the parlor.

The patriarch remained seated, his face drained of color, surrounded by a few

senior family members, each wearing a look of deep concern.