Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 53: Vance

"What is going on here?"

Vance immediately disengaged from the impulsive, less-than-two-seconds hug he had shared with Gianna, or rather imposed on her—as her body was yet stiff with surprise at the strength of it, the suddenness of his arms, the way it had stolen her breath for a split second.

What had he been thinking? The question rang loud in Vance’s head.

He chewed on his lower lip nervously, teeth worrying the flesh, hands clasped over each other and resting awkwardly at his waist region, fingers tightening and loosening in restless cycles, a tad bit afraid to turn aside and face Mason, whose voice had descended like ice itself.

The director seemed angry.

Was the rumor he heard this morning true then? That Mason liked his mentor?

Vance hoped not. The thought alone made his stomach twist.

"Nothing, Mason."

He heard Gianna say it smoothly, coolly, and wished—absurdly—that he had that confidence she seemed to wear like a suit every time she walked into a room.

She sounded easy, unbothered, like she hadn’t just been caught hugging a fellow designer in full view of everyone.

He wasn’t sure how that looked from the outside, but judging from the murmurs he was hearing from his fellow designers, low whispers skittering across the room, he had gone over the top with that hug.

Stupid. He cussed himself silently. Why hadn’t he controlled himself? Now, he may have put himself in bad graces—possibly ruined everything.

"Nothing?"

Vance didn’t blame the disbelief and annoyance that simmered unmistakably in Mason’s voice, the way the word dragged.

"Just hugs, Mason. He was too happy when he heard about the news... you know, the approval of the new collection."

"I see..."

Vance wondered if the director really saw. And she called the director by his first name? Oh, she was his hero.

Vance was all the more enamored, buoyed by the subtle lessening of the hostile atmosphere, encouraged enough to finally turn aside and meet Mason’s gaze—Mason who was peering at him closely now, weighing him, judging him, measuring his intentions.

Vance held back from rolling his eyes.

"So, what now?" Mason turned away from him and focused on Gianna, who had recovered from her shock in record time, standing tall like nothing had rattled her.

"He will need to move up... come to my space with a desk and a chair. We need to work together, if we are to have working samples by the convention, which is just days away."

Vance was getting dizzy with happiness. He would be leaving this unwelcoming environment?

He held his breath, lungs tight, waiting for Mason’s response like a verdict.

Mason darted a blank gaze at him, unreadable, before nodding. "Okay then. I’ll call in security to help with the movements. Do you need anything else?"

Gianna shook her head, though she wondered faintly why he had come here—to the first floor at all. To tell Vance the news himself?

"Congratulations, Vance..." Mason spoke, cutting her thought train short. "Don’t disappoint the company, and do whatever Gianna tells you to, while maintaining professional distance..."

Gianna rolled her eyes. Wasn’t he the one who said romances were allowed between workers? Or was that reserved for the higher staff?

Albeit, Vance nodded fast—thrice—neck stiff with obedience.

"Of course, Director. I apologize for earlier. I was just too excited."

"As you should be," Mason said coolly, "considering you will be paid the same rates as her for this collection."

Vance’s jaw fell open, hanging there, even as his other colleagues let out shocked gasps that rippled through the room.

Mason smiled then, thinly, at Gianna. "You haven’t told him that part?"

Gianna shrugged, but she was smiling too now, eyes warm as they settled on Vance.

Mason inhaled, returned his attention to Vance. "So utilize this opportunity well... who knows, this might just be the boost you need to scale up in the company..."

And he was out the door before Vance could claw his way up from the well of shock he had fallen into and say thank you.

"Is he—" Vance swallowed hard, his hands resting on his thighs, smoothing invisible creases, sweat already beading on his forehead. "Is he saying the truth?"

Gianna nodded, still smiling."You will do great, Vance. Come on, pack your stuff, let’s go up. We have a lot of work to do. I will wait for you outside..."

And she was gone like a puff of air before he could say a word.

Vance stood there, shell-shocked, heart pounding, his mind already calculating how much he was going to get out of this—enough, maybe, to change hospitals for his mother. His hands shook with both excitement and nerves as doubts began to creep in, sly and unwelcome.

Would he be able to do it? Bring out the best for what Gianna needed?

He didn’t want to disappoint her. Didn’t want to—

Someone smacked his shoulder, too heavy to be called a friendly jab.

He winced in pain and turned, glaring at the male who stood a foot away from him, smiling—rather, smirking.

"So, you did it, huh... got the new recruit wrapped around your finger. The sex that good?"

Vance had always prided himself on his self-control, like his colleagues had always prided on his penchant to swallow insults and walk away.

But not this time.

Just as earlier, when he had hugged Gianna without thinking, his fist struck out, raw instinct overtaking restraint, connecting with the male’s jaw before anyone could say jack.

Silence followed—thick, stunned—while the assaulted processed what had happened in shock, holding his jaw in disbelief.

And when he retaliated, an already furious Vance was ready, dodging the hit and striking out again.

And when it hit the mark—when blood spilled from the mouth of his colleague—commotion broke out in the room, one which brought Gianna and Mason, who had been talking about the collection, rushing back into the room.

"What’s going on here!" Mason barked, not understanding how things had spiraled to this extent.

Gianna was just as nonplussed. "Vance!" she called out, trying to reach him—Vance who had locked his colleague under his armpit—but Mason held her back.

"Gianna, stay back before you hurt yourself..."

More people were gathering outside the room now, drawn by noise, watching the spectacle with wide eyes.

"Vance, stop it now!" Gianna called out, restrained in Mason’s arms.

This time, Vance stopped. He pushed away the bloodied colleague, who fell ungracefully like a sack of potatoes to the floor.

"What the hell, Vance!" Gianna shouted, seeing the lack of remorse on his face, seeing how he stared at the colleague with eyes full of hate and disgust.

What the hell? Was this the shy fellow that followed her with puppy eyes?

Vance turned to her, eyes blazing with fury, suddenly looking older, hardened by something raw and ugly.

"He started it, Miss Gianna! And I don’t regret kicking his stupid ass!"