Chapter 6 - The Kiss That Wasn't Part of the PlanBy Saturday morning, the entire city seemed to believe I was having an affair with Massimo Romano.
My flower shop's phone had been ringing since six.
Two wedding clients canceled their contracts.
A supplier demanded payment before delivering new inventory.
And someone had posted my business address beneath a photograph of Massimo leaving my shop.
Apparently, being mistaken for a mafia boss's girlfriend was bad for business.
Unless your business involved selling gossip.
I was standing behind the counter when June handed me another message.
"Mrs. Patterson canceled."
I closed my eyes.
"Her daughter's wedding is in three weeks."
"I know."
"We already ordered the imported roses."
"I know."
"Did she explain why?"
June hesitated.
"She said she doesn't want her family associated with criminal activity."
I stared at her.
"Criminal activity? I make centerpieces!"
June sighed.
"People are ridiculous."
I leaned against the counter.
All I'd wanted was one good contract.
One successful gala.
Enough money to give my employees their long-overdue raises and replace the transmission in the older delivery van.
Now everything was falling apart.
The front door opened.
Massimo stepped inside.
He was wearing a navy suit and carrying two paper coffee cups.
Enzo remained outside.
June looked at him.
"You're becoming a regular customer."
Massimo placed one cup on the counter.
"For Sophie."
I looked at it.
"Is that supposed to fix my day?"
"No."
He set down a small paper bag.
"Breakfast?"
I peered inside.
A blueberry muffin.
My favorite.
I looked up suspiciously.
"How did you know?"
"June."
I turned toward her.
She shrugged.
"He's persuasive."
Massimo handed me his phone.
"I also issued a statement."
My stomach tightened.
"What statement?"
"Read it."
I looked down.
It was brief.
Reports concerning a personal relationship between Massimo Romano and Sophie Miller are inaccurate. Ms. Miller was present at the Romano estate solely in her professional capacity as a contracted floral designer. She has done nothing improper, and speculation about her private life should stop.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
"You told the truth."
"Yes."
"You didn't mention Adriana."
"No."
"You didn't pretend we're dating."
"No."
I looked up.
"Thank you."
His expression softened.
"You're welcome."
For a moment, I felt relieved.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new gossip headline appeared.
ROMANO DENIES MYSTERY WOMAN—WAS THE FLORIST JUST A MIDNIGHT DISTRACTION?
I stared.
"Oh, for the love of—"
June took one look and groaned.
Massimo's expression darkened.
"We'll request corrections."
I shook my head.
"No. Don't chase every idiot on the internet. We'll never finish."
I put the phone down.
"People will get bored eventually."
June folded her arms.
"Hopefully before the canceled wedding orders bankrupt us."
Massimo looked toward her.
"How much did the business lose?"
I immediately shook my head.
"No."
"Sophie—"
"No. You are not buying all my canceled contracts."
"I wasn't going to."
"You were thinking about it."
He didn't answer.
June smiled.
"He definitely was."
I crossed my arms.
"Massimo, my father taught me to build a business that stands on its own. I am not going to become dependent on you because your family caused a disaster."
He studied me.
Then he nodded.
"Understood."
"Good."
"But the estate still owes you for your work."
"That's different."
"Then I'll make sure the outstanding invoice is paid under the original contract."
I considered that.
"Fine."
June leaned toward me.
"I like this arrangement better than him buying us a building."
Massimo raised an eyebrow.
"I hadn't offered a building."
"Give it time," June said.
I laughed.
For five minutes, life almost felt manageable again.
Then Adriana arrived.
She looked exhausted.
Her eyes were red.
And she was carrying a suitcase.
"My father knows I gave you the documents," she said.
Massimo stood.
"Did he threaten you?"
"He told me I no longer have access to the family accounts. He canceled my company credit cards and ordered the staff to clear out my apartment."
I stared.
"He can't just do that."
"He owns the building."
"Are you okay?"
Adriana gave me a fragile smile.
"I will be."
June stepped forward.
"Do you need coffee?"
Adriana looked at her.
"Desperately."
June disappeared into the back.
Massimo pulled out a chair.
"Sit down."
Adriana did.
Then she looked directly at me.
"I should have come to you sooner."
"You didn't know me."
"I knew enough to understand something was wrong."
She hesitated.
"Your father's name appeared in our historical files. I saw it three months ago. At first, I assumed he was just another vendor."
I sat opposite her.
"And then?"
"I found a payment authorization dated the week after the fire."
My stomach tightened.
"What kind of payment?"
"A transfer to a contractor whose company had been created only days earlier. It was listed as emergency remediation."
"Was it real?"
"I don't believe so."
"Who approved it?"
"Carlo Romano."
Massimo's expression hardened.
Adriana continued.
"The money moved through two companies before reaching an account connected to Dominic Vale."
I stared.
"Dominic worked for your family eight years ago?"
Massimo nodded slowly.
"He was in private security before joining my staff."
Adriana looked at him.
"Your uncle recommended him."
Massimo went completely still.
For a moment, the room was silent.
Then he took out his phone.
"Enzo."
I watched his face.
"Remove Dominic's access from every property and system. Coordinate with Investigator Torres about the documents recovered last night."
He listened.
"No. Nobody confronts him without law enforcement present."
He ended the call.
I looked at him.
"Did you know Dominic was working for your uncle?"
"I knew Carlo recommended him. I didn't know he was still answering to him."
"That's a dangerous mistake."
"Yes."
He didn't try to defend himself.
That was becoming a pattern.
And I found myself caring about it far more than I should.
Adriana opened her suitcase and pulled out a laptop.
"I made copies before my access was terminated."
Massimo sat beside her.
They reviewed financial records while I handled shop calls.
By noon, they had identified a pattern.
Money connected to the South Branch property had moved between several companies over the previous eight years.
Some payments were ordinary.
Others appeared designed to disguise who controlled the accounts.
The forged land transfer was only the latest step.
Massimo called his attorney.
Adriana prepared another evidence package.
And Investigator Torres arranged for a fire-safety review of the ballroom.
Meanwhile, I did what I knew how to do.
I examined flowers.
The gala installations were nearly finished.
But the unauthorized fifteenth crate bothered me.
According to the shipping records, it had been delivered with our floral materials.
According to Enzo, the crate had been found empty.
Whatever it contained had been moved somewhere else inside the estate.
I reviewed photographs of every arrangement.
The grand staircase.
The reception tables.
The entrance columns.
The ballroom arch.
And then I noticed something.
The floral wall behind the presentation stage looked different.
Not obviously.
Not to anyone who didn't know the design.
But I knew every stem in that installation.
I'd drawn the original plans.
The wall was supposed to contain white hydrangeas, pale roses, eucalyptus, and delicate branches of waxflower.
In the latest photograph, however, a section of greenery had been rearranged.
The flowers were slightly higher.
The lower panel was deeper.
And the supports didn't match the design I'd approved.
I enlarged the image.
"Massimo."
He looked up.
"What?"
"Someone changed my floral wall."
Adriana leaned over.
"How can you tell?"
I pointed.
"These hydrangeas should be centered. They're covering a panel that wasn't part of the original structure."
Massimo studied it.
"Could your team have made adjustments?"
"No. June supervised the installation, and we use a different mounting system."
I looked at the photograph again.
"Someone modified this after we left."
Massimo called Enzo.
Within fifteen minutes, an independent safety specialist and a fire investigator were on their way to inspect the ballroom.
I didn't know what they would find.
But I knew the changes weren't accidental.
The remaining afternoon became a blur.
Police officers interviewed employees.
A fire-safety team examined the installations.
Massimo's attorney arranged for the relevant financial records to be preserved.
I tried to answer client calls while pretending my hands weren't shaking.
Around four, the first inspection report arrived.
A concealed compartment had been discovered behind the floral wall.
Inside were materials that did not belong in any decorative installation.
The investigators wouldn't disclose every detail while the examination was ongoing.
But they were concerned enough to order that section of the ballroom closed immediately.
I looked at Massimo.
"Someone was planning something at the gala."
He nodded.
"Yes."
"Something dangerous."
"Yes."
I felt sick.
"Then cancel it."
He took out his phone.
"I'm authorizing the foundation to suspend the event. The fire department will determine when the venue can reopen."
I exhaled.
Finally.
Something sensible.
But the relief lasted only a few minutes.
Carlo Romano called.
Massimo put the phone on speaker.
"Massimo," Carlo said pleasantly. "I've been informed that you're creating unnecessary problems."
"The ballroom is closed."
"Because of some flowers?"
"Because someone altered the installations."
Carlo sighed.
"You're allowing an inexperienced florist to interfere with a major family event."
I felt my face burn.
Massimo's voice turned icy.
"Watch how you speak about her."
Carlo laughed softly.
"So the rumors are true."
"That has nothing to do with this."
"Everything has something to do with this, nephew."
A pause.
Then Carlo continued.
"Vittorio is furious. The donors are arriving. The announcements have been printed."
"Then disappoint them."
"You don't understand what's at stake."
"I understand perfectly."
Massimo leaned forward.
"The gala is suspended."
Carlo's tone changed.
For the first time, the pleasant disguise disappeared.
"You are making a mistake."
"No," Massimo said. "I'm correcting one."
He ended the call.
I stared at him.
"Does your uncle always talk like a movie villain?"
Adriana gave a startled laugh.
Massimo looked at me.
"Unfortunately, yes."
The humor faded quickly.
I watched his expression.
"Are you worried?"
"Yes."
"About him?"
"About what he'll do when he realizes he can't control the outcome."
I thought about my father's letter.
About the fire.
About the people who had died.
Then I said something that surprised both of us.
"I want to see the ballroom."
Massimo shook his head immediately.
"No."
"I know the installations. I can tell investigators what's been altered."
"You can do that from photographs."
"Not everything."
"Sophie."
"Massimo."
He looked irritated.
I continued.
"I am not asking to wander into a dangerous room alone. I'll go when the fire investigator says it's safe, and only with the people examining the evidence."
He paused.
Then nodded reluctantly.
"All right."
Adriana smiled.
"She's very good at that."
"At what?" I asked.
"Getting you to reconsider," she told Massimo.
He looked unimpressed.
"Both of you are enjoying this far too much."
By early evening, the investigators had completed their initial examination.
They confirmed that the suspicious materials were being secured and the affected area would remain closed.
I was permitted to inspect photographs and the cleared section of the installation with a fire investigator present.
I recognized a metal support piece that had not come from my supplier.
I also identified a set of floral labels using my company name but printed in a format we had never used.
The investigators documented everything.
When the inspection ended, I stepped outside into the garden.
The lake wind was cold.
The sky had turned a soft blue-gray.
For the first time all day, I was alone.
Or so I thought.
"You're freezing."
Massimo stood behind me, holding his coat.
I turned.
"I needed some air."
He draped the coat over my shoulders.
It was warm.
It smelled faintly of cedarwood and clean fabric.
"Thank you."
He stood beside me.
We watched the dark water beyond the gardens.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then he said, "I'm sorry about your business."
I shrugged.
"We'll survive."
"You shouldn't have to."
"That's life."
He looked at me.
"You make everything sound simple."
I laughed.
"You have no idea how complicated my life is."
"I know more than I did two days ago."
"Two days ago, you nearly shot me."
"I didn't nearly shoot you."
"You pointed a gun at me."
"I didn't fire."
I gave him a look.
"Comforting distinction."
His mouth curved.
For a moment, he looked almost boyish.
Then his expression softened.
"Sophie."
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"I meant what I said earlier."
"Which part?"
"About not making decisions for you."
I pulled his coat closer.
"Good."
"I don't want you to feel trapped here."
"I don't."
He studied me.
"You're sure?"
I thought about it.
"I was trapped when everyone assumed I belonged to you. I'm not trapped now."
"What's changed?"
I met his eyes.
"Now I know I can leave."
He nodded slowly.
"And?"
"And I haven't wanted to."
The admission hung between us.
Massimo went still.
I could hear the fountain behind us.
The distant sound of a car moving along the driveway.
My own heartbeat.
He stepped closer.
"May I kiss you?"
The question startled me.
Not because I hadn't imagined it.
Because he'd asked.
This was a man who seemed to command every room he entered.
A man who owned buildings, controlled companies, and had spent his life expecting obedience.
Yet he was standing in front of me, asking permission for something as simple as a kiss.
I looked at him.
"Are you sure that isn't part of your fake engagement plan?"
His expression turned serious.
"No."
"Because I don't want to be someone's excuse."
"You're not."
"Or someone's secret."
"Never."
I should have asked more questions.
I should have considered every reason this could go wrong.
Instead, I smiled.
"Then yes."
Massimo touched my cheek gently.
And kissed me.
Not hurriedly.
Not possessively.
He kissed me as though he were afraid the moment might disappear if he moved too quickly.
My fingers curled into the front of his jacket.
For one wonderful, impossible moment, everything else fell away.
The lies.
The threats.
The danger.
There was only the warmth of his hand and the quiet certainty that I wanted to be exactly where I was.
When we separated, he rested his forehead against mine.
"That wasn't planned," he murmured.
"No," I whispered.
"Do you regret it?"
I smiled.
"Ask me after the next disaster."
He laughed softly.
Then his phone rang.
We both looked at it.
Of course.
There was apparently no romantic moment in the Romano family that could survive longer than thirty seconds.
He answered.
"Enzo."
His expression changed.
"What do you mean?"
A pause.
"Where is she?"
I felt his hand tighten around mine.
"Find her. Now."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" I asked.
Massimo looked toward the house.
"My grandmother is missing."
I stared.
"Rosa?"
"She left the mansion with one of the drivers an hour ago. The car hasn't returned."
My heart began pounding.
"Did she say where she was going?"
"According to the staff, she received a message claiming someone needed her help."
"Who?"
Massimo looked at me.
His expression was terrible.
"Elena."
I shook my head.
"But Elena is safe."
"I know."
Then a message arrived.
A photograph.
Rosa sat in the back seat of a car.
Her hands were folded in her lap.
She looked frightened but unharmed.
Beneath the image was a sentence.
SIGN THE AGREEMENT, MASSIMO, OR YOUR GRANDMOTHER WON'T SEE ANOTHER MORNING.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
The man who had just kissed me in the garden vanished behind the expression of someone prepared to do anything to protect his family.
And for the first time, I understood exactly how dangerous love could make him.
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