The Dragons Blind Bride

The scent of wilted roses clung to the air like memory.

Liana Crest pushed the flower shop door closed with her hip, her arms wrapped tightly around a bucket of white lilies that were two days past fresh. She dropped them into the sink and turned on the water, hoping-foolishly-that a little hydration could bring them back to life.

A girl could dream.

The bell above the door jingled, and her heart leapt. Probably the landlord again. Or worse, another debt collector with hollow sympathy in their voice.

But it wasn't either.

Instead, a man in a black suit stood just inside the threshold, his shoes untouched by dust, his face unreadable beneath the brim of a hat.

He didn't belong here.

No one that sharp ever stepped into her crumbling little shop. Not with its cracked windows, peeling wallpaper, and wilting inventory. Not in this forgotten street where dreams went to die.

"Miss Crest?" His voice was smooth, almost robotic in its precision.

"Yes?" She wiped her hands on her apron, uneasy but curious.

"I'm here on behalf of Mr. Blaise Thorne."

She blinked. "The billionaire?"

A faint nod. "He requests a private meeting with you. Immediately."

She blinked harder, then laughed. "This a prank? I don't do escort work, sorry."

The man didn't flinch. "It's about your sister. And her upcoming surgery."

Liana froze.

"How do you know about that?"

He reached into his coat and handed her a folder. Inside-her sister Evie's full medical file. The hospital's logo. Doctor's notes. Surgery estimates. All real.

Liana's hands trembled. "Who are you?"

"I'm his lawyer. But Mr. Thorne would prefer to explain the rest himself. If you agree to meet, a car is waiting outside."

She looked down at her dirt-stained apron, at the flowers she'd just tried to revive, and at the future that was slipping away one medical bill at a time.

Evie had six weeks before her condition worsened. Six weeks before the doctors said there might be irreversible damage.

What choice did she have?

The car smelled like leather and money.

She sat stiffly in the back, her fingers twisted in her lap, watching as the city blurred past. Skyscrapers, neon, and noise faded into winding roads and high walls until finally, the car pulled into a wrought-iron gate that opened with a hiss.

The mansion beyond was silent. Towering glass windows reflected the moon. Every corner looked too sharp, too perfect. Like no one really lived here.

A woman met her at the front entrance. "You'll wait here," she said politely, gesturing to a parlor with dark wood and a fireplace already crackling.

Liana's heart thudded. She couldn't tell if she was about to be offered a job... or sold a dream.

And then he spoke.

"I didn't expect you to come."