Chapter 103 A thousand lilies
ALEXANDER POV
I sat in traffic.
Every minute I spent in this car aggravated me more. My mood was already in the gutter, thanks to Sebastian, all I wanted to do was go home and bury my cock in my wife’s pussy and instead I was sitting behind a red light watching the city move around me like it had somewhere better to be.
I glanced to my left and saw a man a few yards away. He was smiling like the luckiest jerk on earth, clutching a bouquet of flowers and practically sprinting toward someone. It took everything in me not to grab my knife and design a few new holes in his body just to wipe that look off his face.
My irritation turned into curiosity when I saw him reach a woman. She beamed with a level of joy that was frankly disgusting, clutching the petals as if they were made of gold.
Cringe.
Why the hell would flowers make someone that happy when credit cards exist? I shook my head in disapproval, wanting to tear my gaze away, but I couldn't. I looked at the woman again. She had no right to be that happy. Only Aurora gets to be that happy. No one else.
Would Aurora be this happy if I got her flowers? I wanted her to smile and beam at me like she'd just been handed the sun. l'd given her a dozen black cards and she barely touched them.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I jerked the car to the right, cutting across traffic until I pulled up beside the couple. I stepped out of the SUV, looming over them.
"Where did you get those?" | demanded.
The guy looked at me with wide, terrified eyes.
He clearly recognized a man who could rip his lungs out, or perhaps he was just aware of the
"good things" I'd done for our great country.
"Two... two blocks down there..." he stammered, his voice small.
"Thank you." I patted his shoulder-hard enough to make him wince-and drove to the florist.
The shop was filled with that cloying, sweet scent of nature. I felt the usual stares and whispers the moment I crossed the threshold. I walked straight to the front desk.
"I need flowers."
The cashier's eyes roamed my face shamelessly. "How many? And what type, sir?"
"I don't know," I retorted.
She seemed taken aback. I genuinely didn't have a clue. I'm not a man of sunsets, fairytales, or Prince Charming. I never have been, it’s never been in my nature and I’ve never pretended otherwise. I never even did this for Ana. Maybe because when Ana and I were together we were always in the middle of something — the brotherhood, the danger, the constant vigilance of two people who loved each other inside a world that wanted them apart. There was never time to stop and buy flowers.
But here I am. Standing in a florist in the middle of New York at night because I saw a woman beam at a bouquet on the pavement and I wanted my wife to look like that.
“Okay,” the cashier said carefully, like she was recalibrating. “The person you’re getting them for — what do you think she’d like? What does she smell like? Anything I can work with?”
I thought about it.
“Vanilla,” I said. “She smells like vanilla. And lilies. She smells like both of those.”
The cashier nodded slowly. “I can work with that.” She turned and said something to the girl behind her who disappeared into the back.
She returned with another employee carrying three different arrangements for me to choose from. I looked at the selection, but my mind was already made up. I pointed to the lilies— white, pink, and deep, blood red.
"How many, sir?"
"A thousand pieces," I said flatly.
Her jaw nearly hit the floor. "A thousand?"
"Did I stutter?"
It took them nearly an hour to bring out the crates and arrange the sea of flowers into the back of my car. I drove home feeling a rare sense of anticipation, almost smiling as I imagined the look on Aurora's face. I couldn't wait to make her beam.
When I pulled into the drive, the guards looked at me and the overflowing car like l'd lost my mind. I didn't care.
"Take these," | barked at them. "Arrange every single one of them in Aurora's personal sunroom. I want it covered."
I walked into the foyer and found Rosemary.
"Where is she?"
"She's in the master bedroom, sir," Rosemary said, her voice hesitant. "She's been in there for a while. She hasn't come down at all."
Confusion flickered in my chest. She was usually waiting for me, or at least wandering the house. I took the stairs two at a time, my hand already reaching for the door handle.
I pushed into our room, the words of a tease already on my tongue, but they died instantly. I felt the beaming drain out of me completely, replaced with something cold and sharp and urgent.
Aurora was in the middle of the bed, her hair a mess, her face stained with tears. She didn't even look up at me. She just sat there, clutching a bottle of dark amber alcohol in her hand, staring into nothing.
Shit. Something was very, very wrong.