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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one day turned into two days, and two days turned into three.
and the only way she knew this was from the thin lines she made in the basement wall corner.
throughout her stay, two things had been made clear.
first: scarlett was crazy. like... off her rocker crazy.
and second: gwendolyn needed to get out.
it's not that i don't trust karla to save me, gwendolyn thought as she lay on the cold floor. i just have to get out of here.
like clockwork, the redhead stomped down the stairs to see 'her' flower. "good morning, gwen! how'd you sleep?"
be so serious right now.
"i slept great. thank you so much for asking," gwendolyn grimaced.
"that's great!" scarlett clapped her hands together. "you won't belive it, but today's your lucky day!"
gwendolyn rolled her eyes. "you'll finally be let me go?"
"please, don't get too hopeful," scarlett sneered. "i've finally decided to let you into a room of your own! with your very own bed, can you believe that?"
"that sounds like the bare minimum to me," gwendolyn groaned in frustration.
scarlett strolled behind gwendolyn, pulling the girl up by her sides. "come on, we don't have time to be complaining. unless you'd like to stay here, which would shatter my heart."
"i'll get up," gwendolyn muttered. "just... don't touch me."
and maybe i'll find a way to get out of here too.
▢▢▢
"you're kidding me," gwendolyn said out loud.
her new "room" was just a glorified prison cell. along the white paneled walls was one big glass door barricaded with iron bars. it was almost like scarlett enjoyed taunting gwendolyn's freedom in her face.
