English Roses Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Who said it was just an ordinary flower?" Era closed her eyes dramatically. Just as she had suspected, Oscar did not take kindly to having his gift questioned. "Who said there's nothing special about this flower?" Oscar continued, glancing at Era for a moment. Then he confidently pointed to the bouquet. "This is a very special flower. Do you think this is an ordinary rose?" He looked again. "Of course not. This is no ordinary rose, Era. This is a Juliet rose, one of the rarest and most expensive flowers in the world. For your information, it took David Austin 15 years to grow it, and its current price is around four million dollars. So, this flower is not ordinary at all."

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it.” She shrugged, and opening the small door in the gate. She had no umbrella with her, I’m guessing she go out in a hurry. Who wouldn’t when their cousin was standing in front of her own home gate, and staring at her house like a psycho? “Don’t apologize. Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.” I nod, following her through the door. The walkway is just like I remember, on each side are prize winning roses. Of different colors. Huh? When do black roses exist? I took a small detour from following Alexis, bending over a patch of those strange black roses.

He is slightly panting, and although he looks grumpy, he also seems pained. “For you.” My heart leaps in my chest as I stare at him, not quite registering his words until he takes a step into the room and holds the flowers out toward me. I hesitantly take them, feeling their soft petals brush against my fingers. They are gorgeous and plucked by hand. I don’t recognize the type, but...wait. Are these enchanted roses? All of them are red and glowing except for a single white one in the middle, and I silently wonder if that means something.

I am sure this is after ages he is trying to be soft and polite to someone. I didn't want to show any tantrum so I just accepted the flower from him with a small smile on my lips. The sweet fragrance enveloped me, filling the air with a delightful scent as I brought it closer to see. It was a vibrant red rose, its petals vibrant and velvety, exuding an air of elegance and charm. Its thorns were sharp, a reminder of its feisty nature, while its fragrance carried a hint of sweetness. "It's the perfect representation of both feistiness and sweetness, just like you!" Vincenzo's words caught my attention.

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.

The door creaked open, and there she was, bright as always but this time she was carrying a massive bouquet of deep red roses. The kind you see in glossy ads for people who never have to check their bank balance. “Okay, what is this?” I asked, standing. “Not from me,” Rosie said, setting the bouquet down with exaggerated grace. “Reception said a courier dropped it off. No name. No brand. Just roses.” I blinked. “Roses?” “Mm-hm.” She bent slightly to inhale them. “Imported, obviously. Whoever sent these has taste. And possibly an obsession.”

“Mr. Sterling, the flowers you picked this time are nice! They’re worth fifty bucks a small bunch. Last time, we picked so many and only got fifty something.” Tiesto glanced at the bouquet in her hands—worth nearly $1,400, imported from the Netherlands. The roses were a rare premium variety called Red Naomi, grown in limited quantities. If he told her the truth, Ella would surely worry and lose her appetite. He nodded. “Not bad.” Ella looked him over. Though his clothes were plain, his style was impeccable, and his aura was extraordinary. Having a man like him accompany her on something as trivial as picking flowers felt like a gross waste of talent.

He stayed in the car and waited. Holding a bouquet of white roses, Daisy slowly walked through rows of gravestones until she stopped in front of the one tucked away in the farthest corner. The stone bore only Dario's name and the years of his birth and death. In the photograph, he had on a black suit. His distinct features were exactly the same as the first time Daisy had met him. She placed the white roses in front of the gravestone and stood there silently for a long time. Finally, she said softly, "When I said I wouldn't forgive you, I meant it. But I don't hate you anymore either. Rest in peace."

And as usual when I get up from bed I get the urge to vomit but thanks to Dadi I have now remedy for it. I brush my teeth, wash up and get ready in royal blue and pink colored lehenga and wear simple jewelry and the necklace which Rudra gifted me in Parvatha. I eat some amla from one of the box to control my nausea a bit as I go to ring the bell to call Hira. But before I can do that Rudra comes in the room and he has a single red rose in his hand. He looks at me with sweetest smile and comes towards me.