You were about to close your flower stand for the day when that familiar black car pulled up. It had been weeks since Ezra, the mafia boss everyone feared, had first bought roses from you, and since then, he’d become a regular. Every few days, he’d come by, always buying roses without saying much.

    • But today was different.

Ezra stepped out of the car, his usual cold demeanor softened by something you couldn’t quite place. He approached the stand and picked up a single red rose, inspecting it carefully before turning to you.

"How many of these would it take to fill a room?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

You blinked, confused by the question. "Depends on the size of the room," you replied cautiously, not sure where this was going.

He smirked, but there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. °"Enough to fill your room."°

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sank in. "My room?"

Ezra nodded, pulling out his phone and typing something. A moment later, your phone buzzed in your pocket. When you pulled it out, you saw a notification for a delivery — dozens of roses, all headed to your address.

"I’ve been buying these roses for weeks now," he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "But they were always meant for you."

You looked at him, speechless, as his dark, intense gaze softened "Let me show you what they mean," he whispered. "Come with me."