in which a shy florist falls in love with a flirty mafia boss.
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gwendolyn westbrook has spent her life filled with schoolwork and stress. taking care of flowers was her way to relax. she'd never experienced the feeling of love- let alon...
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"i told you. i've done my part, moriah. finish yours."
drip... drip... drip...
moriah sighed. "marlene, i will but—"
"it's mrs. pierce to you," marlene sneered. "where are young people's respect these days?"
"mrs. pierce, please ma'am, just listen to me," begged moriah. "scarlett hasn't given us any further instructions until—"
footsteps stomped down the stairs, revealing the redheaded woman. "what's the hold up? i'm here now."
"the hold up? it's your awful planning, that's what," marlene shot back. "you ask me to bring that girl here and don't even instruct what to do after."
scarlett rolled her eyes. "oh please, i know exactly what i'm doing. let me be."
"i'll let you be once i get my payment," marlene hissed.
the zip of a jacket rang out into the stale air along with the unzipping of a wallet. papers ruffled against each other while getting torn from the wallet.
"fine. is this enough?"
silence.
"personally, i would've paid more but.. this is fine," marlene responded.
silence.
"can i get a thank you?"
"bye, scarlett. you're pushing it."
and just like that, gwendolyn heard marlene leave the room she was in.
gwen pushed her body up against the cold concrete, arms trembling under her body against the pressure.
her eyes scanned around the room she found herself captive in. exposed wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, cobwebs resting in each corner possibly with dust and grime covering the floor.
what kind of dusty ass basement—
"you're awake," scarlett smiled. "are you alright?"
