Chapter Ninety: Moving Forward

Chapter Ninety: Moving Forward
Chapter Ninety: Moving Forward

ANNA SERRANO

I made my way upstairs to Mother's private suite, the house's quiet luxury always more apparent in this wing. I knocked gently on her door before opening it and stepping inside.

Mother sat propped up against elegant pillows on her bed, reading glasses perched on her nose, going through a thick document with her usual intense focus. She didn't look up when I entered.

"Mother," I called out softly.

"Anna, you're here," she said without raising her head, still scanning whatever she was reading. "Good."

"Yes. I was about to head to the gym, but Alexander said you wanted to see me."

She nodded, finally looking up and setting the document aside. Her expression was serious, businesslike.

"Flora came to see me," she said simply.

My eyebrows shot up. "Flora? When?"

"A few days ago." Mother's tone was matter-of-fact, but I could see a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. "She came to tell me about your 'real identity,' as she put it. Trying to expose all your secrets."

My eyes widened as I recalled Flora's desperate threats on the sidewalk, her screaming that she'd go to Mother Serrano and reveal everything.

So she actually did it. She actually came here.

That explained the dramatic shift in Flora's behavior, the desperation when she'd shown up at Serrano Corporation, begging on her knees, completely broken. She'd come to Mother expecting to destroy me and had instead discovered that the Serranos knew everything. That there were no secrets to expose. That she had no leverage, no power, no way to hurt me through revelation.

But I still had a strong feeling there was something else, something beyond that realization, that had shattered her so completely that day. Something that had made her pull out those manipulative tactics, the fake tears and pleas for sisterly mercy.

"What did you tell her?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of Mother's bed.

"I warned her," Mother said with a cold smile. "Threatened her appropriately. Made it very clear what would happen if she tried anything like that again. Then I sent her away."

Mother's smile widened slightly.

"So now she knows for certain that we're behind you. That the entire Serrano family stands with you, knowledge of your past and all."

I felt a surge of satisfaction course through me. "She came to me afterward," I said, unable to hide my smirk. "Showed up at the corporation begging. Literally on her knees, crying, pleading with me to forgive her and leave the city."

"Did she?" Mother looked delighted by this. "And what did you do?"

"Kicked her out," I said simply. "Told her nothing she could do would work on me anymore."

We talked for several more minutes, comparing notes about Flora's visits to each of us, laughing about her desperation, discussing what her next moves might be.

"Whatever you're doing to them is working," Mother said finally. "Keep the pressure on. Don't let them think they have any room to maneuver."

"I won't," I promised.

After wrapping up our conversation, I headed back downstairs toward the mansion's gym, my mind turning over everything that had happened.

Flora's desperate pleas echoed in my memory, the crying, the begging, the manipulation tactics that had once worked so well on the old Anna but were completely ineffective now.

I was satisfied. More than satisfied. Remembering the look on her face when she realized I wasn't going to budge, wasn't going to show mercy, brought me genuine pleasure.

Sometimes I worry I'm getting too cold, too heartless, I thought as I entered the gym and set my water bottle down. But I don't care. Not when it's directed at them.

They'd destroyed me five years ago without a shred of remorse. They'd taken everything from me, my marriage, my reputation, my home, my sense of self.

I owed them nothing. Certainly not kindness.

I faced the heavy boxing bag hanging in the center of the room, rolled my shoulders to loosen them up, and started hitting.

Left jab. Right cross. Left hook.

Each punch felt good, releasing tension, channeling frustration into something physical and productive.

I pushed harder, putting everything into it. All my anger at Flora. All my residual hurt about Abel. All my determination to make them pay for what they'd done.

The bag swung wildly under my assault, and I followed it, keeping my rhythm steady.

I was so focused on the workout that I didn't hear my phone ring the first time. It was only when it rang again, more persistently, that I stopped, breathing hard, and grabbed my water bottle.

I gulped down half of it, feeling the cold liquid soothe my parched throat, then picked up my phone and checked the caller ID.

Christopher Vale.

I smiled despite my breathlessness and answered. "Hey, Christopher."

"Anna!" His warm voice came through clearly. "Are you alright? You sound out of breath."

"I'm fine," I said, still breathing heavily from the workout. "Just at the gym. Working off some stress."

"Ah, I'm sorry to interrupt your workout."

"It's okay. What's up?"

There was a pause, and when Christopher spoke again, his tone had shifted to something more uncertain, almost nervous.

"Do you have any plans this weekend?"

I frowned slightly, trying to remember my schedule. "Not really. Why?"

Another pause, longer this time.

"Let's go on a date."

I froze mid-sip of water. "What?"

"I said," Christopher repeated, his voice steadier now, more confident, "let's go on a date. You and me. This weekend."

I stood there in the gym, phone pressed to my ear, water bottle halfway to my mouth, completely caught off guard.

"A date?" I repeated, needing to make sure I'd heard correctly.

"Yes," Christopher confirmed. "A proper date. Dinner, maybe a museum or gallery if you're interested. Something that isn't just business meetings and partnership discussions."

I could hear the smile in his voice, could picture the warm expression he probably wore.

"I've been wanting to ask for a while," he continued when I didn't respond immediately. "But the timing never seemed quite right. So I'm asking now: Anna Serrano, would you go on a date with me this weekend?"

My mind was racing. Christopher Vale was asking me out. On an actual date.

I thought about the past few weeks, the meetings we'd had, the easy conversations, the way he made me laugh, how comfortable I felt around him. The way his smile made something warm bloom in my chest.

I thought about moving forward. About allowing myself to be someone other than Anna-seeking-revenge. About the possibility of something new, something uncomplicated by the past.

"Anna?" Christopher's voice held a note of uncertainty now. "If you're not interested, that's completely fine. I don't want to make things awkward or—"

"Yes," I interrupted, making a decision. "Yes, I'd like that. Let's go on a date this weekend."

The relief in Christopher's laugh was audible. "Really? That's... that's great. Saturday evening?"

"Saturday evening sounds perfect."

"I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Seven works for me."

We talked for a few more minutes about possible plans, he suggested an exclusive new restaurant that had just opened, followed by a walk through the sculpture gardens nearby if the weather was nice.

It sounded lovely. Romantic, even.

When we finally hung up, I stood there in the gym for a long moment, staring at my phone, processing what had just happened.

Christopher Vale had asked me on a date.

And I'd said yes.

A genuine smile spread across my face, not the cold, satisfied smile I got from watching my enemies squirm, but something warmer, softer, more hopeful.

Maybe it was time to start moving forward instead of just looking back.

Maybe revenge didn't have to be the only thing driving me anymore.

Maybe I could have both: justice for the past and happiness in the present.

I picked up my water bottle, took another long drink, and turned back to the boxing bag with renewed energy.

But this time, when I started hitting it again, I was smiling.