Page 93 of The Madman and his broken Princess
I got dressed and ate a few crumbs of breakfast before I decided to distract myself with my favorite thing in the world: flowers. I missed working with them. The gardens were bare offlower beds, and the roses in the maze creeped me out too much. I went in search of my bodyguards and found them in their staff room. “Can you take me to a flower shop?”
Rodolfo practically jumped up. “Of course. Do you have one in mind?”
I didn’t, so I did a quick internet search for shops, then gave the address to my bodyguards. The sun was shining beautifully, the sky over Los Angeles cloudless. Sometimes I felt as if our manor was in another dimension, removed from the world around us.
When I walked into the flower shop and breathed in the scent of the many different blooms, a small smile tugged at my lips despite the tension in my body. I scanned the display of flowers, trying to decide which to include in my arrangement. The florist gave me an uncertain smile as she approached me while she cast nervous glances at my two bodyguards flanking the door.
“I’m sorry for this,” I said with a nod toward my entourage.
“It’s all right. I suppose you have a reason to have them with you. How can I help you?”
I scanned the flowers. “I want a big bouquet that brings light into a dark room. But…” I hesitated. “I want to bind the bouquet myself. I used to work in a flower shop, and I really miss it. I’ll pay you as if you’d bound it, of course.”
The florist’s eyes widened, but then she smiled. “If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask me. I’ll show you around.”
She showed me her workplace, with everything I’d need for pruning and binding, before she stepped back and let me peruse the flowers. My worries for Nestore made it hard to channel my inner florist.
“What kind of light are you aiming for?” the florist asked eventually.
I paused in front of a vase with white freesia. “Fresh morning light.”
She smiled. “Might I suggest a color scheme of white, lemon, and light green?”
My face broke into a smile. “Yes.” I chose a few white freesias, light green hydrangeas, Gerbera daisies in lemon yellow, and soft yellow snapdragons, then moved toward the work table and began binding them. When I emerged from the shop thirty minutes later, I felt a little lighter. The bouquet seemed to catch the light and intensify it. Perfect for the mansion’s lingering darkness.
I took another whiff of my bouquet as I settled on the back seat of the limousine. After a few minutes of driving, my bodyguards abruptly stopped talking. I glanced up, trying to gauge their mood. Their expressions were tense and determined, their jaws locked as they alternated between glancing into the side and back mirrors. I turned around in my seat to see the reason for their worry. A massive black pickup was cutting through traffic to stay close to us.
“We’re being followed.”
Silence was the answer.
“Who are they?”
Rodolfo cleared his throat as he turned a corner, then another, picking up speed but not racing. Traffic was dense but not as bad as during rush hour. “They could be from the Bratva. There was a recent altercation with them, so this might be them out for retribution.”
“So you don’t think they could be old followers of my father?”
“They usually go about their attacks in secret. This open threat reeks like Bratva.”
“They’re gone,” the other bodyguard said to Rodolfo. I kept forgetting his name. He seldom talked to me.
I slanted another look over my shoulder. The pickup was indeed gone. “Do you think they gave up because of traffic?”
“No,” Rodolfo muttered. “This was their warning. They’ll attack at a later time. Let’s get you back inside the walls of Romano Manor.”
“Do you have a way to contact my husband to let him know?”
“Maybe.”
It was obvious he didn’t want to tell me more. Did Nestore tell him to do that? Maybe he was angrier than I’d thought. He really needed some distance. My other bodyguard typed something on his phone, probably a message for Nestore. Or maybe he contacted Niccolo. I didn’t have his number. I definitely needed to change that.
Back at the manor, I placed the bouquet in a crystal vase and set it in the center of the dining table. Smiling, I headed into the kitchen for an afternoon snack. I was surprised to find Sasha, the man who tended to the wild cats, and a very young, unknown man inside the kitchen, stashing meat and bones into a large crate under the cook’s watchful gaze.
“Are you going to feed the wildcats?” I asked. “I would love to join you.”
“You can come along if you like. It’ll be a blast,” the younger man said with a too-familiar smile. I didn’t care, but Nestore definitely wouldn’t have appreciated his expression. We were the same age, so maybe that’s why he thought he could talk to me like a friend.
Sasha gave him a hard look. “This is my nephew Lev. He’s new here and obviously unaware of the rules. “We can feed the cheetahs and tiger if you like. The lions already had their meal, Mrs. Romano.”
