CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
BLOSSOM
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I pushed away from my desk and headed toward our small inventory room. If I couldn't solve the problem today, I needed to find a way around it. Flipping on the light, I looked around the shelves.
We still had some branded boxes on hand. But they’d run out quickly. I stared at the shelf that held stacks of plain white shipping boxes. If I couldn’t find someone else to work with soon, we’d have to use these.
Customers would notice the difference, but they would still receive their flowers. That was what mattered. My gaze shifted toward another shelf where extra ribbon was stored.
"We'll order plain ribbon until we find another supplier willing to personalize it."
Not ideal. Not our normal standard. But it would work. Then I looked toward the display shelves filled with our custom vases. There were still plenty left.
"We'll use what's already in stock until we find someone else who can bring our designs to life."
I would handle this one problem at a time. In the end, we would get things back on track. We had to. I headed back into the office and practically collapsed into my chair. The moment I sat down, my phone chimed.
I froze. For several seconds, I simply stared at it. I didn't want to pick it up. Every notification this week had brought another problem. Slowly, I reached for it. The message was from our Florida branch.
Natalie: Blossom, we've had three companies refuse to work with us today. They won't tell us why. Do you know what's going on?
Damn it. Before I could even respond, another message appeared.
Callie: Deliveries aren't coming. One of them even claimed I hadn’t put in the order, and I know I did. This feels wrong. Is something going on with our suppliers?
"What the hell? It was happening in Tennessee too."
Another notification immediately followed. It was April, from our South Carolina store. I opened it.
April: We're going to have to cancel two weddings. We can't get the flowers we ordered. No one has them. Not even other local shops. They’re complaining, too, because they’re unable to get the flowers. Is something going on?
The phone slipped from my hand and landed with a thud on my desk. I closed my eyes and prayed my head stopped pounding. What was going on? This wasn’t some simple bad luck or a bad fucking week.
Someone was making sure we didn’t have the things we needed to run our business properly. It was almost time for me to leave town. Now, it seemed I would have to stay to help put out these fires someone had lit under us. There was only one person I could think of who could've done this.
Rome Cattaneo.
But surely he wouldn’t do some shit like this simply because I rejected him. Could he know the truth I’d tried so desperately to hide? Could he know about The Circuit and that we were responsible for what happened to his cousin?
No.
That couldn’t be it. He wouldn’t have resorted to petty shit like this if he’d known that. He would’ve hit us with something much bigger, deadlier. Even so, there was no one else who’d want to hurt the shop.
I spent the rest of the day talking to managers at different branches, trying to figure this shit out. We couldn’t cancel our events. We had to show up for our brides. We also had to swallow our pride and let them know what was going on.
Some had to change their flower choices, which left brides pissed off and led to people complaining about us on social media. Our online rating dropped dramatically, and our reputation was in shambles.
Social media was a blessing. It could help a business thrive. But it could also tank one in hours. And right now, everything my family had worked so hard to build was being ruined, and I wasn’t entirely sure why.
I didn’t have an answer for my staff. Not a definitive answer anyway. But I had my suspicions. By the time I finally closed the flower shop for the evening, I felt defeated in a way I’d never felt before.
Branches were looking to me for answers, even though I was probably the problem. Once in my cottage, I locked the front door, activated the alarm, and then stood there for a moment, staring off into space.
I was exhausted. Beyond exhausted. I could feel the tiredness in every part of me. I knew my staff could too. Kelly and Dayana had spent the entire day helping me rearrange orders, contact brides, and search for new suppliers.
We'd solved what we could and apologized profusely to everyone we spoke to. I’d never been cursed out so many times in my life. I’d had to grin and bear it because the fault lay with us.
The things we didn’t get to, would have to wait until tomorrow. That’s if tomorrow didn't bring another disaster. Moving away from the wall, I slowly made my way to my bedroom, feeling like a zombie as I navigated in the dark.
I dropped my purse onto my bed and placed my phone beside it. I wandered into the bathroom, turning on the light as I moved to stare at myself in the mirror. I hardly recognized the woman staring back at me.
The circles beneath my eyes looked darker than usual. My shoulders sagged. But it was my expression that said it all. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. And I looked defeated.
I reached for the hem of my shirt and slowly pulled it over my head before stepping out of the rest of my clothes. Leaving them in a pile on the floor, I turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm.
A few minutes later, I stepped beneath the spray. The hot water washed over me, loosening muscles and easing a little of the tension in my body. It was amazing how much damage stress could cause you.
It affected all aspects of your life: your physical body, your mental health, and even your spirit suffered when you were stressed. Stress was a silent killer that many people ignored.
Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back, letting the water fall over my face. For a little while, I didn't think about suppliers. I didn't think about weddings. I didn't think about Rome. I didn't think about anything.
I cleared my head and tried to relax. Once I felt less tense, I started washing my hair.
Then I showered quickly. I’d just started rinsing off when the water began cooling.
Turning it off, I exited the shower and dried myself in silence.
I grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around me, then blow-dried and moisturized my hair.
It felt like it took me forever to complete such a simple task. Once I was done, I combed my hair and braided it back into two ponytails, slicking the edges back. After that, I tied my hair down so I could wear it braided tomorrow, then left the bathroom.
I was done with this fucked up day. I was too tired to even worry about eating anything. With my towel wrapped securely around my body, I padded back into my bedroom barefoot.
I didn't even bother getting dressed. Pulling the covers back, I climbed into bed, still wrapped in my towel.
My stomach growled. I ignored it. I'd barely eaten today, but the thought of walking back into the kitchen, fixing something, and then cleaning up afterward felt impossible. I'd rather go hungry.
I rolled onto my side and pulled the blanket over myself, closing my eyes. Just as I felt myself drifting off to sleep, my phone chimed. I let out a long groan and buried my face deeper into the pillow.
Please don't let it be another problem. Please don't let another branch call to tell me something else went wrong. I couldn't handle anything else tonight. Without opening my eyes, I blindly felt around on my nightstand, bumping the vase and lamp as I searched for my phone. It wasn’t there. Shit. I’d left it on the edge of the bed, right next to my purse.
“Fuck!” I groaned, rolling onto my back and sitting up.
That small act took more energy than it should’ve. I tugged at the comforter, dragging it toward me until my phone and purse were within reach. After placing my purse in my nightstand drawer, I checked my messages on my phone.
I had a message from an unknown number. I sighed. What now? What the fuck now? I considered not opening the message. But what if it was important?
“Shit,” I cursed as I opened the damn text.
I read the first line and wished I’d ignored that motherfucker. It read...
Juliet With Curves, let's chat.
-Romeo
Below the message was a link to a video chat. The same platform I used when video chatting with Rome. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. I read the message again. Then a third time.
Then I checked to make sure this was my phone because how the hell had he gotten my personal number? Then I remembered, this was Rome. Of course he could get a hold of my private number.
He'd texted my personal phone, and he'd called me Juliet. The cat was officially out of the bag. I mean, I’d suspected it. And I’d been waiting for him to act. Now that he was, I didn’t know how to respond.
The timing of this message couldn’t be a coincidence. This message plus all the shit happening in my shop, yeah, that shit had to be connected. Rome had to be behind my string of bad luck.
Petty ass!
Another notification slid across my screen. I immediately opened it.
If you don't click the link, the bad luck at your shop will continue until you no longer have a fucking shop.
-Rome
My heart ceased beating.
"So..." I whispered. "It really is you."
Every supplier that terminated our contract, every missing order, every fucking problem that plagued me this week was because of him. Most of our branches were suffering because of him.
"Fuck!" The word exploded out of me as I threw the covers back. "Fuck you, Rome!" I shouted into the empty cottage. "Fuck you and fuck your messages!"
I shot to my feet so fast the towel wrapped around my body slipped loose and puddled around my ankles.
Fuck that towel!
I turned on my bedside lamp and then yanked open the top drawer of my nightstand. My fingers immediately wrapped around the cold grip of my pistol. Pulling it free, I ejected the magazine and checked it.
It was fully loaded as expected. I slid the magazine back inside and placed the weapon on the nightstand.
"Fuck love," I muttered, my heart racing as I moved over to my closet and pulled out the attire I’d need for tonight.
"I'm not about to let this man ruin me and everything my family has built with their blood, sweat, and tears.”
I flipped the bedroom light on, then started dressing. I slid on my black pants and black form-fitting shirt. Black socks came next, and black boots.
“And for what?” I muttered as I laced up my boots. “Because I’d rejected him. That was a weak ass reason to fuck with my stores,” I complained as I untied my head scarf and tossed it onto a dresser before returning to my nightstand to get my weapon.
“Or did he... did he know?" I paused, hand hovering above my gun.
Did he know?
Was he retaliating because of Marcel? If he was, then this shit broke my heart. Not because of my pain, but because of his. Because this wasn’t like the Rome Cattaneo I’d heard whispers of.
If he knew the truth, the whole truth, then he should’ve come at us with violence. Instead, he was attacking my shop, which meant... he didn’t want to hurt me. Not truly hurt me the way he would any other enemy.
“Damn it, Rome,” I groaned, lowering my hand away from my weapon and sitting down on the edge of my bed.
I didn’t know what to think right now. I didn’t know how to feel about this. Yeah, I was angry because my business was suffering. But Rome was suffering too. And he could do a lot more damage to me than this.
Yet, this was the route he’d taken to keep from really hurting me. I should be mad. I should want to go ahead and end him. Yet, all I wanted to do was hug him and apologize for what my team had done wrong.
But an apology wouldn’t fix this. I couldn’t fix this. Another notification chimed. I grabbed my phone and, as expected, it was another message from Rome. I checked it. He’d sent me a photograph.
A cold chill crept over me as I stared at a photo of Kelly's house. He knew everything. He had to because why else would he send a photo of Kelly’s house? Beneath the picture was one sentence.
Open the video link, or I'll open her fucking skull.
Fear threaded through my veins. I needed to call Kelly. I needed to make sure she was okay. I exited out of the messages and scrolled through my numbers. Then my phone started ringing, a video call, from Rome.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
I declined the call. I needed to talk to Kelly. But if I called and she was fine, I’d only scare her.
“Shit!” I yelled.
My phone chimed again. I clicked on the message. It was a video of Kelly pulling into her driveway. What was she doing just getting home? She’d left work over an hour ago. Damn it. With the video was a message.
If you call her, I’ll have her killed before she can get into her house. Click the link, Juliet.
I hated being fucking threatened. But Kelly’s life was on the line. And the Rome I’d heard rumors of was ruthless as fuck. He’d do it. He really would. Tears blurred my vision. I would not let him see me cry.
I swallowed, my finger hovering over the link. I took a deep breath, released it in a rush, and then pressed the button. It wasn’t long before an image of Rome, seated behind a desk, appeared on my screen.
He was dressed in a dark business suit, looking sexy as hell in those glasses. And I hated myself for noticing shit like that at a time like this. He leaned closer to the camera and for a moment, it was like his dark gaze was peering into my soul.
“Hello, Juliet,” he whispered. “Or should I call you Blossom?”
I swallowed before whispering...
“Hello, Romeo. And you can call me Pissed Off. Because you’ve officially upset me.”
He gifted me a sinister smile that sent dread through my veins. This was not the Romeo I’d fallen in love with. But that was okay. Because I wasn’t the Juliet he’d been searching for.
We were Rome and Blossom.
Enemies, not lovers.