Chapter 2 - The Name Behind the Black Sedan
The black sedan remained parked outside Brooks Blooms for nearly a minute after Adrian Moretti stepped inside.
Amelia did not notice.
She was too busy tying a blue ribbon around the bouquet she had made for his mother.
White roses.
Lilies.
Blue delphiniums.
Gratitude.
The tall stranger in the charcoal suit stood beside the counter, watching her work with an attention that made her slightly self-conscious.
“You arrange flowers like they have secrets,” he said.
Amelia smiled without looking up.
“They do.”
“And what do these say?”
“That someone is grateful but bad at saying it.”
Adrian’s gaze lowered to the bouquet.
“That sounds accurate.”
Amelia handed it to him.
“That will be forty-two dollars.”
Outside, Rafe nearly walked through the glass window.
No one had asked Adrian Moretti for payment directly in years.
Adrian took out his wallet.
Amelia watched him pull out a black card.
“That one won’t work,” she said.
He paused.
“It will not?”
“My card machine stopped accepting those premium cards last week. It says they are too fancy.”
For the first time in days, Adrian laughed.
A genuine laugh.
“Too fancy?”
“That is exactly what the machine said.”
He handed her cash instead.
Amelia counted the bills carefully, then placed the correct change in his open palm.
“You gave me too much.”
“Keep it.”
“No.”
“Amelia.”
“No, sir.”
He studied her.
“You do not know who I am.”
“That does not mean I take money I did not earn.”
The words stayed with him as he walked back to the sedan.
Inside, Rafe waited with a folder in his hand.
“Should we tell her?” he asked.
Adrian looked back through the shop window.
Amelia was helping an elderly customer choose carnations. She bent close to listen as the woman explained that the flowers were for her late husband’s grave.
“She thinks I am a businessman who needs help with flower arrangements,” Adrian said.
“You are a businessman.”
“That is not all I am.”
Rafe said nothing.
Adrian’s expression grew distant.
“No,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”
Across the street, Vanessa Clark sat inside a black SUV with her phone pressed to her ear.
Her boutique had suspended her after the incident with Isabella.
The surveillance footage had spread across social media. The store’s reputation was collapsing. Her wealthy clients had stopped calling. Her employer had begun asking questions she could not answer.
But Vanessa did not blame herself.
She blamed Amelia.
“That florist ruined my life,” Vanessa hissed into the phone.
The voice on the other end was calm.
“Then ruin hers.”
Vanessa looked toward Brooks Blooms.
“I want her afraid.”
The voice gave a soft laugh.
“Fear is easy. The difficult part is making someone feel alone.”
Vanessa’s eyes narrowed.
“Who are you?”
“You do not need to know.”
The call ended.
Vanessa watched Amelia through the glass.
She did not see a woman who had protected an innocent stranger.
May you like
She saw the reason everything had gone wrong.
And she decided Amelia Brooks would pay.
