The Case Of The Bizarre Bouquets นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“Yes?” “There’s a delivery for you downstairs.” She says. My brows lift slightly. Already? I walk downstairs a few minutes later expecting something small. Instead, I nearly stop walking completely. “Oh my.” The bouquet sitting at the reception desk is enormous. Massive red roses arranged perfectly with luxury chocolates wrapped between them. But that’s not what shocks me most. Folded hundred-dollar bills are carefully woven throughout the bouquet itself like decoration. I stare at it in disbelief. “That man is insane, romantically insane.” I whisper under my breath.

“I’m fine, but something...something came up.” Correction: a hundred somethings, judging by the number of bouquets littering the hallway. Pink roses for affection, white lilies for forgiveness, golden trumps for strength and triumph over obstacles. I try to ignore the meaning behind each bouquet as I focus on the garden that has exploded inside the building. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who they’re from. I’m going to kill Damien. “Hi. Imogene Scott?” The delivery boy hands me a pen and clipboard. “Can you sign, please? We have more downstairs but, well, we can’t fit them all in the hall.”

he says I crouch down again doing it dramatically and take the bud a little roughly I am irritated doing the same thing for the whole bloody past week I touch the bud and will it to bloom glaring at it And it did bloom beginning to unfurl its petals still I didn't leave I don't know what came over me It bloomed it unfurled completely still I stared at it A white beam began to form below it I could hear Gorgon calling my name but I was in some trance I stared until the white beam enveloped the flower completely and then the flowers exploded into various tiny pieces and then everything turned black

He left his floral emissary, an omen amidst the quiet. With the bouquet abandoned like a grenade waiting to bloom, Xavier retreated, the corridors echoing his departure and the door sealing behind him with a click that sounded suspiciously like a challenge laid bare. The fluorescent lights of the office corridor flickered as the receptionist returned, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Her gaze landed on the bouquet, a riot of colors that seemed out of place in the sterile environment. She plucked it up, saw it was for her boss, and then made for the elevator.

When she lifts it, she drops it instantly with a sharp gasp. “What’s wrong?” I reach for her, kneeling closer. Her fingers are dotted with blood. I follow her gaze to the bouquet—small thorns protrude from several stems. “Those definitely aren’t Mina’s,” I murmur, pulling a clean handkerchief from my back pocket and gently blotting her hand. Jessie’s brows pull together. “I’ve seen those before…” she murmurs. Before I can ask anything, she stands abruptly and removes both bouquets from the vases, placing them respectfully on an empty, neglected grave nearby.

Belinda, my cousin, had even managed to put some pants on little Archie. I went to find Roberto and see if he needed help with anything. I found him talking to the florist who was putting the finishing touches on the bouquets in the living room. While the rest of the bouquet was a basic mix of white roses and pink peonies, my mom’s bouquet on the other hand, stood out with its loose, asymmetric style and a wide array of blooms; roses, peonies, eucalyptus twigs, baby breath and wild lilies. She would be thrilled. “How is the bride holding up? She was kind of freaking out earlier,” Roberto said as soon as he saw me.

Andy held her hands in his, as though pleading. “Okay.” Cassey stood up and came to me, and while I stood there, staring speechlessly at her, she threw her arms around me, wrapping me up in a warm hug. ………………………………………….. I made into the garden with a lily I had plucked from the garden, careful not to sniff it. No one in rainbow crest still fancied sniffing flowers after Gova’s incident. The new trend was just plucking the flowers if you are the one giving, but don’t sniff, and if you are the one receiving, accept it, but don’t sniff, else you would be poisoned by a serial killer, milling around and dropping poison into flowers.

Ethan brought flowers, which Rosa received with the expression of someone who approved of flowers as an offering, even when they were unnecessary. It is just the four of them. No extended family, no friends, no twenty-three people in a Begur castle at sunset. Just the small version — the Sant Andreu kitchen, the lemon-patterned tablecloth, the bowls on the shelf, the four people who form the innermost circle.

Hazel looked at the bouquet in my hands; Rhea looked at my face. “If that’s from a secret admirer, he’s got great taste,” Rhea murmured. “If you ordered a funeral bouquet for my sanity, the timing is impeccable,” I replied. I walked past them toward the console table beneath the big mirror. Set the bouquet down. The flowers opened slightly from the touch, releasing a clean, subtle scent. Not a graveyard smell. More like a five-star hotel in a foreign city. “Jas…” Hazel moved closer, her eyes narrowing. “Is there a card?”

The tabloids would have torn him apart even now, if he were a psychopath. A young man who was in a crisp uniform, holding a massive bouquet of energetic red roses, interrupted us before I was able to respond. He spoke politely, extending the bouquet to me, “Excuse me, Ma’am. These are for you.” Surprised, I took the bouquet into his hands. I said “Thank you,” still processing the delivery that was unexpected. Ester’s curiosity was palpable. She nearly bounced in her seat, asking “Who sent these?”. “I do have no idea,” I then admitted. My fingers ran through all the velvety petals. A small note was caught by my eyes and it was nestled down among some flowers. I pulled it out then, my heart ra