18th Roses Novels & Stories

All the goods were dazzling and luxurious. The most eye-catching piece of decoration was the sea of roses. The whole wedding venue was awash in pink roses. They were so warm and romantic that it was intoxicating. In order to set up these roses, Jenna had spent a handsome fee to hire the most famous team, Rosebest, for an elaborate design.

Chapter 84: Stella and Theodore The auntie tilted her head and shook her head, “I’m afraid we don’t have what you are looking for, young man. Roses came from the south while the flowers I sell all came from the local area. Transport is more expensive than the flower itself.” “I see.” “You must be a foreigner, right?” Oliver nodded his head. The auntie enthusiastically started chattering, “Although you are a foreigner, I am willing to tell you something. Roses are hard to come by so we sell white camellias. It is perfect if you’re giving it to your parents. They’ll surely love it.”

They seemed to express that I didn't want him anymore. Facing 50 acres of land, Jeffrey finally realized that I, like these departed roses, would not return. The roses had been given to another woman by him casually, and its owner would not return because of himself. I would no longer plant flowers for him. He would never see me holding roses and asking him, "The roses are ripe. When are we going to get married?" He realized that roses had feelings too. I was willing to be trapped in a greenhouse by him because of my love for him.

Trisha’s P.O.V I walked out of the room with my father, Lucas and Rose following behind us, but they separated from us as we neared the altar. The music was light and the entire hall was filled with the scent of fragrant flowers. White roses were used as decoration, but within the purity of the white, I spotted the dark velvet petals of the black roses. However, behind the altar, there was a humongous garland made completely of black roses and it was just magnificent.

The little brother next to him flattered. Prince Long grunted and took out a large bunch of roses from the backseat, red, orange, red, green, blue and purple in every color. Gathering so many different colors of roses was obviously costly, but together they were indescribably vulgar, as if they were a bunch of dyed plastic products.

While it doesn't really bother me because I know I'm gorgeous and do not need anyone to tell me that or otherwise, it is exhausting to stand about and listen to five nitwits whose brains are filled with nothing but the hottest guys in town and high fashion in Vogue spout insults and play tricks on me. I once considered calling them out on their bullshit or even giving one of them a black eye at some point but Ella beat me to it. She's not exactly the most patient person when it comes to dealing with people and she's pretty tough. As the only scholarship students in our year, it's quite easy to identify us as we're required to wear a ‘pride brooch’ as it's called. It's supposed to make us pro

I give them to her. "I love roses but the fact you brought the red ones scores you another point in my book." she smells them. "Good to know that." I grin. "But you know you needn't have brought them anyway." she stares. "I wanted to." I reply. I was passing this flower shop when I saw these good looking roses. My mind immediately went to Della and I knew I had to get her a bouquet. "Okay. A minute, I need to put these in a vase." I wait for her from outside before she returns all set. We get inside the car and I fire the engine to the busy street.

“Only good little humans get to cum, Rose.” I wiped my mouth furiously and glared at him as he admired my flushed body. “I don’t want you to make me cum. I don’t want you touching me ever again!” “Careful what you wish for,” he smirked. “Now get dressed. I have the perfect task for you today.” ೋღ🌹ღೋ

The irony hit hard. As we drove further in, we stopped in front of the second villa. I stepped out and gaped—it was the most beautiful one of all. Painted soft white and pastel pink, with tall glass windows gleaming under the afternoon sun. Inside, the living room took my breath away. Gold and blush accents framed the walls, and the air smelled faintly of vanilla—my favorite scent. What a coincidence, I thought. A woman, probably In her early fifties, appeared from what looked like the kitchen. She smiled gently and spoke quietly with the assistant. I barely listened, too overwhelmed to focus on their conversation.

Like I had the power of life and death. The third one, however, I did not allow to burn entirely but only the edge of the petals. Half red and half black. Roses on fire. Suddenly, I let out a hysterical laugh until my cousin walked into the office, perhaps brought on by the smell or even my outbursts. “What the hell are you doing, Rick?” “Killing them!” I replied, keeping my fanatical grin on my face. “Killing roses…” he repeated as he approached. “You okay, bro?”