Chapter 9 - THE ENEMY WHO SENT FLOWERS
Z
The flowers arrived at nine seventeen on a Monday morning.
White lilies.
Twenty-four of them.
No card.
No delivery signature.
No name.
Naomi stared at the arrangement on the reception desk of the Celeste Blake Foundation and knew immediately who had sent them.
Nobody else would understand the insult.
Her mother had hated lilies.
Naomi had mentioned it only once.
Months earlier.
Inside a storage unit.
While Lorenzo stood beside her listening to the recording Celeste had left behind.
Only four people had been in that room.
Naomi.
Lorenzo.
Carlo.
And one of Carlo’s security men.
Declan Shaw had not.
Yet here the flowers were.
Naomi did not touch them.
She called Lorenzo.
He answered on the first ring.
“What happened?”
Not hello.
Not good morning.
Just what happened.
“You know me too well.”
“I know what your voice sounds like when something’s wrong.”
Naomi looked at the lilies.
“Someone sent flowers.”
A pause.
“What kind?”
“White lilies.”
Silence.
Then Lorenzo’s voice changed.
“Don’t touch them.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Leave the building.”
“Lorenzo—”
“Naomi.”
She closed her eyes.
There it was.
The command.
The one he tried not to use anymore.
The one he still reached for when he was afraid.
“I’m not leaving my own foundation because someone sent flowers.”
“Then I’m coming there.”
“I have a board meeting in twenty minutes.”
“Cancel it.”
“No.”
“Naomi.”
“Stop saying my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it belongs to you.”
Silence.
She immediately regretted it.
Not because it was untrue.
Because she knew why he was scared.
Declan Shaw had disappeared after saving Amaya in Toronto.
Nobody knew why he had helped.
Nobody knew what he wanted.
That made him more dangerous than a man openly declaring war.
Lorenzo lowered his voice.
“I’m not trying to own you.”
“I know.”
“Then let security clear the building.”
Naomi looked around.
Employees were arriving.
Young analysts.
Nurses from the foundation’s community clinics.
A mother holding a toddler near the elevator.
Suddenly the flowers felt less like an insult and more like a threat.
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“But I’m not canceling the meeting.”
Lorenzo exhaled.
“Of course you’re not.”
Twenty-five minutes later, two security teams had swept the building.
No explosives.
No chemicals.
No hidden devices.
Just lilies.
Lorenzo arrived wearing a dark coat and the expression of a man who had personally declared war on flowers.
Naomi met him in her office.
He closed the door.
“Where are they?”
“Destroyed.”
“By who?”
“Carlo.”
“Good.”
Naomi crossed her arms.
“You do know flowers aren’t usually considered weapons.”
“They are when Shaw sends them.”
“You don’t know it was Shaw.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“You do.”
She did.
That was the problem.
He walked toward the window.
Below them, central London moved in gray winter light.
Cars.
Buses.
People rushing between appointments.
Normal life.
Lorenzo hated normal life.
Not because he did not want it.
Because he had never trusted it.
It looked too easy to lose.
“We need to move you.”
Naomi laughed once.
“No.”
“I have three properties nobody knows about.”
“He found your last secret house.”
“That was through Mateo.”
“Maybe.”
Lorenzo turned.
“You think someone else told him.”
“I think the flowers prove someone heard a conversation Shaw was never part of.”
That stopped him.
Naomi watched the realization settle across his face.
“Someone close.”
“Yes.”
“Carlo?”
“No.”
“You answered too quickly.”
“Because it isn’t Carlo.”
“You thought Mateo wasn’t Mateo.”
Lorenzo flinched.
Barely.
But she saw it.
Naomi softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re right.”
He hated hearing those words.
Not because he disliked being wrong.
Because being wrong about Mateo had almost gotten Naomi killed.
Lorenzo walked to the desk.
“Who else was at the storage unit?”
“Carlo and Stefan.”
Stefan Varga.
Thirty-two.
Hungarian.
Former military.
Quiet.
Efficient.
He had worked for Lorenzo for four years.
Lorenzo immediately called Carlo.
“Where’s Stefan?”
“At the west office.”
“Keep him there.”
Carlo heard something in his voice.
“What happened?”
“Nothing yet.”
Lorenzo ended the call.
Naomi looked at him.
“You’re going to interrogate him.”
“I’m going to ask questions.”
“Your version of asking questions usually requires duct tape.”
“I’ve improved.”
“You threatened a man with a fireplace poker last week.”
“He insulted my cooking.”
“You don’t cook.”
“Exactly.”
Despite herself, Naomi smiled.
Lorenzo looked at her.
The tension shifted.
He stepped closer.
“You’re laughing.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You kissed me anyway.”
“That was temporary insanity.”
“Repeated temporary insanity?”
Naomi’s expression softened.
He touched her waist.
For a few seconds, Shaw disappeared.
Mateo disappeared.
The empire disappeared.
There was only Lorenzo.
Then someone knocked.
Carlo entered without waiting.
That alone was unusual.
His face was serious.
“Boss.”
Lorenzo moved away from Naomi.
“What?”
“Stefan’s gone.”
Naomi felt cold.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Before you called?”
“Yes.”
Carlo placed a phone on the desk.
“He left this in his locker.”
It was not Stefan’s personal phone.
A burner.
Only one message remained.
Sent that morning.
THE FLOWERS WERE DELIVERED.
Lorenzo stared at the screen.
Naomi whispered, “So Stefan works for Shaw.”
Carlo shook his head.
“Maybe.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Carlo unlocked the burner.
“There’s a second message.”
He turned the phone around.
It had arrived three minutes ago.
FROM: STEFAN.
I DID NOT SEND THE FLOWERS.
I FOUND THE MAN WHO DID.
DON’T TRUST CARLO.
Nobody moved.
Naomi looked at Carlo.
Carlo looked at Lorenzo.
Lorenzo looked at the man who had become his second-in-command after Mateo’s betrayal.
The room became very quiet.
Carlo slowly placed both hands on the desk.
“Boss.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
“You know me.”
May you like
Lorenzo’s eyes hardened.
“That’s what Mateo used to say.”
