BLOOD AND PETALS

The bell above the shop door chimed softly, its delicate ring blending with the fragrance of roses, lilies, and freshly cut lavender.

Elena knelt behind the counter, arranging a bouquet of ivory tulips with the steady hands of someone who had turned flowers into an art form. Her little shop on the corner was her pride a place where beauty lived untouched by the chaos of the world.

Outside, Lagos buzzed with impatient horns and hurried footsteps, but inside Bloom & Grace, time slowed. The world here was soft, fragrant, and safe.

She hummed as she tied a ribbon, her mind wandering to her wedding dress, tucked away in her closet at home. In just two weeks, she would marry Daniel. The thought made her lips curve into a quiet smile. He was steady, charming, and successful. Everything she thought she wanted.

The bell chimed again.

She glanced up, expecting another familiar customer. Instead, the air itself seemed to still.

A tall man stepped in, dressed in an immaculately tailored black suit that clung to him like armor. His presence was... wrong for her shop. Too sharp, too commanding, like a blade laid across velvet. His eyes, dark and unyielding, swept the room before landing on her.

Elena's hands froze around the bouquet.

"Good morning," she managed her voice steady though her heartbeat stumbled. "Can I help you find something?"

He didn't answer right away. He simply studied her, as if he had walked in not for flowers, but for her. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, smooth, with an edge that made her skin prickle.

"Roses."

She cleared her throat. "What color?"

His lips curved, but it wasn't quite a smile. "Red. Always red."

As she turned to gather them, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched  not as a customer studies a florist, but as a predator studies prey. The silence pressed heavy, broken only by the soft snip of her scissors.

When she finally handed him the bouquet, his fingers brushed hers. A chill rushed through her.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Elena," she said cautiously.

He repeated it slowly, tasting it, like he wanted to remember the way it felt on his tongue. Then he laid down more money than the bouquet was worth  far more  and turned toward the door.

Just before stepping out, he looked back at her with those unreadable eyes.

"I'll be back."

The bell chimed again as the door shut, but Elena didn't move. She stood frozen in the middle of her flower shop, surrounded by blooms yet for the first time, the air smelled faintly of danger.

The morning light spilled through the windows of Bloom & Grace, turning the petals in the display vase into fragments of stained glass. Elena let out a breath, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she arranged fresh lilies near the counter. The delicate scent of jasmine clung to her fingers.

The bell above the door rang, and her