You ran a flower shop. And every so often, members of Valeria’s cartel would come in and buy flowers from you.

There was such a variety, all centred around a murderous theme. Roses with thorns that were so sharp they could practically cut fingers off.

Sunflowers that projected the sun to blind people. The list went on.

You weren’t selling cute little plants. You were selling murder weapons.

The bell on the door pinged, your loyal customer Valeria walking in with a list.