Page 7

Amelia

I couldn’t fucking believe this.

Why the hell was I staring at dozens of flower arrangements flooding Sebastian’s apartment? His spotless apartment.

He’d cleaned the place. Or more likely, paid someone to do it. Because I’d seen what this place normally looked like—and this wasn’t it.

Every surface—the kitchen island, the coffee table, even the dining table—was covered in a stunning collection of flowers. Creams, blushes, deep reds, burnt oranges… petals of every shape and size gathered in gleaming vases, arranged with almost military precision.

And then there was the man standing near the couch. Dressed in a charcoal suit, hands clasped behind his back like he was awaiting orders from a royal court.

“Thank you, Pierre. I appreciate you doing this,” Seb said smoothly.

“Doing what?” I blurted, spinning to face him.

Seb smirked, all charm and trouble. “This, sweetheart, is a curated, private exhibition of the most beautiful flower arrangements Pierre could whip up. He’s a botanist turned florist—knows his stuff.”

I blinked at him. Then at the flowers. Then back at him.

My brain fumbled, trying to process. As I stepped closer to the vases, admiring the intricate petals, I realized something incredibly embarrassing.

I couldn’t name a single damn flower.

They were beautiful, sure. But to me, they all looked like roses. Or daisies. Or… maybe that one was an orchid?

“Here,” Pierre said gently, gesturing to the first vase. “This one is a collection of lisianthus and ranunculus, paired with eucalyptus for softness.”

I nodded like that meant something.

We went from vase to vase—Pierre patiently giving me a tour while Seb stood back, hands in his pockets, studying my face like he was waiting for a sign. A flicker. Anything that told him I loved it.

I did love it. They were all stunning.

And yet, something felt… disconnected.

Then my gaze landed on a single flower sitting in a glass case on a pedestal near the balcony.

Unlike the others, this one wasn’t part of a bouquet.

It stood alone, delicate and quietly radiant—an off-white bloom, with hints of peach and gold along the edges, as if it had been brushed with the last rays of sunlight.

I gasped.

Pierre smiled softly and stepped forward. “This,” he said reverently, “is the Alanis Rose. It was named after a woman who was so inspired by David Austin’s Juliet Rose , that she created something entirely her own—something ethereally timeless.”

“It’s…” I breathed, “incredible.”

Pierre nodded. “It’s also incredibly rare. This one bloom alone costs approximately 1.3 million dollars.”

Seb grunted, while I stupidly laughed. I paused when I realized that I was the only one making hyena noises. “Wait. You’re not joking?”

Pierre blinked. “No, ma’am.”

“Oh.” My voice cracked into a nervous cough. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

Seb snorted behind me. “Well, at least we know which flower has your attention.”

“Seb,” I turned to him, arms crossed. “You are not seriously considering buying a million-dollar flower to get me to pick a favorite, right?”

“Of course not.” He grinned. “I already had it delivered before you said that.”

“Sebastian.”

“Kidding. Mostly.”

We stood in the middle of the bloom-filled room, the scent of sweetness and something floral and ancient curling through the air like a spell.

He gestured to the entire spread. “Alright, Amelia. Which one’s yours?”

I turned slowly, looking at each arrangement again. Each one exquisite. Each one screaming something elegant and graceful. But my heart didn’t pull toward any of them.

Not the Alanis Rose.

Not the rare orchids.

Not the curated arrangements.

“I…” I hesitated, then walked toward the corner table by the entryway.

The bouquet of tulips sat there—the yellow and pink arrangement, the one Seb planned on giving me.

“I think… I think I’ll go with these.”

Sebastian followed my gaze, surprise flickering across his face. “The tulips?”

I nodded. “They were the first ones. The ones you gave me before all of this.”

He gave a slow, understanding smile. “Then tulips it is.”

But as I touched the petals, something inside me twisted.

Because even though I’d chosen, it didn’t feel like a decision.

It felt like I was still searching.

For something I couldn’t name.

For something that flowers, no matter how beautiful, couldn’t give me.

???

“I’m telling you!” I grunted through another set of back squats. “She stares at me. Like… like she won or something.”

Leora burst out laughing. Not a small chuckle—a full-body, throw-her-head-back laugh. Which was rich coming from someone who had just been biting her lip two minutes ago trying to hold it in.

I’m serious, dammit!

“Stop laughing—”

“I’m not laughing at you,” she wheezed, still laughing. “It’s a machine , Amelia. You can… I don’t know… reconfigure it?”

She made her way across the gym, tagging Kaylan’s arm before sliding onto the bench press. Kaylan gave me one of those tight-lipped smiles that said I’m trying not to laugh too—please.

Chariot had become my savior. My shield. My tactical diversion from the unholy topic of my fake date last night. The moment I walked into the gym, Leora had cornered me with a gleam in her eye and a full report, courtesy of Chef Matthis, who apparently moonlighted as a damn spy.

But for now, I’d successfully redirected the conversation. Chariot, the too-smart-for-its-own-good drone, had taken center stage.

“You don’t understand,” I muttered, racking the bar. “I need to do an obscene amount of changes just to bring it up to my standard. And Chariot is a bitch—she still won’t listen.”

Kaylan shrugged. “Why don’t you ask Kabir?”

The thought hit harder than I expected.

The thing was, I used to ask him. Constantly. We used to tweak Hawk and Eagle together for hours. But now? We barely talked. And when we did, it was layered in anger and tension and unspoken everything. Last night was a testament to that.

“Maybe,” I said noncommittally, wiping my forehead. “He’s busy with decoding that message from Pedro and Lan.”

At the mention of their names, Kaylan went still. Her hands dropped from the bar. Silence rippled through our trio like a tremor.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, but my words still echoed in the quiet of her grief.

She exhaled, sharp and tired. “I’m not sure how I feel, honestly. I loved them like family. But they didn’t even check in after I escaped Ravenrock. No message. No visit. Nothing. Just… back to their real families. And now they’re gone.”

Leora lowered herself onto the bench and gently asked, “Is that your way of avoiding the grief? Trying not to feel it?”

What I didn’t expect was the smirk that tugged at Kaylan’s mouth.

“You do that, you know?”

Leora blinked. “Do what?”

“You psychoanalyze Logan.” Kaylan smiled, crossing her arms. “You’ve never done it with me before. I’m honored.”

Leora’s brows flew up. “Oh God. I’m sorry, Kay. I didn’t mean—”

Kaylan stepped around the bench, touching Leora’s shoulder. “No. I mean that in a good way. You question things. It helps us think. And trust me—Logan needs that. Man’s treating recovery like it’s an optional side quest.”

That earned a shared laugh between them, one I joined with a snort.

But Leora’s face softened quickly. “For what it’s worth… once things settle, you should consider meeting Pedro and Lan’s families. It might give you some peace. Some closure.”

I nodded. “You talked to Ronan and Dylan, right? About Riley?”

Kaylan gave a small nod.

“Do the same. They were your family, Kay. And now we are. Grieve however you need. Just don’t do it alone.”

Kaylan hesitated. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, “Leo… can I skip the bridesmaid dress?”

Leora tilted her head, surprised by the shift. “Of course. You can wear whatever you want. You just being there is what matters.”

Kaylan’s shoulders sagged in relief, like she’d been holding her breath for weeks.

I didn’t really get it, but I knew Leora wasn’t about to make any of us uncomfortable for the sake of a dress.

Then it hit me.

“Shit! I still haven’t written the damn maid of honor speech!”

That pulled a chorus of laughter from all three of us, and for a moment, the gym was filled with the sound of something rare and precious.