CHAPTER I- It's Not The Father

“I wish I’m rich.”

Andrew, my best friend, moaned tiredly across from me. We just finished up cleaning every inch of the flower boutique.

“Don’t we all?”

He narrowed his eyes on me. “You’re Lucy Silvera. So, no, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” I agreed, perusing through some old documents. “I’m just humoring you so you’d shut up.”

“I still can’t believe you rejected her offer. We’re talking about a thousand dollars here!”

I rolled my eyes.

'Here we go again.'

Ever since my grandma has left me the boutique in her will, businessmen have come and surveyed the property for their new ventures. Each time I stomped one of them, another one pops up like pesky cockroaches. I was told over and over that the boutique’s location is ideal for a new business. The nerve of some of them telling me to get with the times as if the flower business was obsolete.

Although, I had to admit it has been a struggle. I’ve only had thirteen customers come in for the past three weeks and only three bought some plants. But there’s a reason my grandma had chosen me. She had trust in me that I wouldn’t just sell out to the highest bidder. She believed I could make this thrive and I will. I wasn’t there for her in her final moments so I at least have to do this for her. 

“Do your parents know you’ve just flushed down a money’s worth of 4-bedroom with 2 bathrooms 2-story house?”

“That’s strangely specific.”

“Do they?” he prodded on.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. They have ways of finding out.”

I’ve been avoiding my family and for good reason. They all want the money. So, imagine their shock and anger when they found out that the title of the land and the shop were passed on to me. 

“Good luck with that, babe,” Andrew said, standing up. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

I shook my head at him. His definition of fresh air is one tinted with nicotine and he's a yoga instructor at that.

Not a minute has passed when he came back inside.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “That was quick.” 

He looked like he'd seen a ghost. “Oh my God.”

“What happened?”

“Oh. My. God,” he said again, staring at me with huge eyes. I started to feel annoyed.

“Oh my God, what is it?”

Andrew took a drag of his cigarette and then coughed as the smoke went down into the wrong pipe. “Longoria. The billionaire. Outside. Man with suitcases. Coming in,” he wheezed.

He pounded on his chest. I tried to process his broken-up words while snatching his cigarette and throwing it into a nearby bin. I hated the smell of it and another worse thing about it is that the horrid smell sticks.

A firm knock resounded. We both froze, even his coughing stopped for a second.

I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. “Who is it?”

“Vincentio Longoria.” 

“It’s the son. The heir himself!” Andrew exclaimed dramatically in a hushed voice, eyes still watering from coughing.

“Why is he here?” I whispered back.

I didn’t know why we’re whispering like little girls talking about their crushes. I had heard of his name though. Who doesn’t? The Longorias practically owned everything by now. Lucius Longoria was known as the ruthless businessman who built an empire of beverages, hotel chains, and pharmaceuticals; among other things. Many had quivered merely in his presence.

His son on the other hand, according to the magazines, was much kinder and amiable. Although, for the last two years he had been missing from the spotlight. No one knew why.

And now, he's here, knocking on my door.

“Miss Silvera? Can we come in?” A lighter voice, different from the first one, asked from the other side.

'At least it’s not the father.'

I tried reassuring myself. I can handle this guy like those other pesky insects. I’ll just have to imagine him as a cockroach so it’ll be easier to get rid of him.

I opened the door and braced myself.

“Welcome to ‘The Secret Garden’,” I greeted with a wide smile on my face.

Without bothering to look at me, two broad-shouldered men strode inside.

I could see why many people are interested in him despite his father being the magnate. Vincentio had that striking elegance in the way he looked that drew you in. He walked with an air of importance as if he already knew he didn't belong there. He gave the place a once-over, his steely eyes cold and unimpressed.

“Charming,” he drawled. 

'This is the kind and amiable Longoria?' If he was, then I was not looking forward to meeting his dad.

I crossed my arms, all pretense of pleasantries now gone. “How can I help you?”

“I think it’s obvious why I’m here.”

“Flower arrangements?” I asked innocently. His blue eyes flashed.

“I don’t appreciate getting mocked at, Miss Silvera.”

“And I don’t appreciate arrogant suits barging into my shop. So, if you’re not here to browse for flowers, you can leave. I’m busy.” 

As the words left my mouth, he looked around the empty boutique. He raised his eyebrows pointedly. 

“Oh? Let me take a wild guess; I’m the first customer of the day.”

I averted my eyes from his mocking face to the daisies on the corner. Damn him. It’s so hard to picture him like an insect when he had that perfectly structured jaw. 

“I think you can spare me a bit of your time. It’s going to be quick.”

He sat on the stool, his back straight with confidence as he had me cornered.

“I’ve been eyeing this property for a while and it has come to my knowledge that I’m not the first to have shown interest in buying so I decided to come here myself and negotiate with you.”

My nose scrunched up in disdain. “If you’re smart, you’d also know that I rejected all their offers. What makes you think you’re going to change my mind?”

An arrogant smirk appeared on his face. He simply nodded to his associate.

The man placed the suitcase on the counter. As soon as he opened it, Andrew gasped beside me. I almost forgot he was there. Vincentio stared at us smugly.

“I’m offering you three-hundred thousand dollars. All in cash.”