Janet stared dumbfounded at the blazing bouquet of roses on her desk — nine hundred and ninety-nine fiery red petals. The entire office had already caught wind of Manfred's latest extravagant gesture the moment the courier delivered the massive arrangement to the eighty-eighth floor. Janet had heard the rumors earlier; she never imagined Manfred would be this persistent.
Just as she was about to toss the flowers again, her phone buzzed with an unknown number. A chill ran down her spine.
"Janet, you don't like blue orchids or red roses. How about I send you some irises tomorrow?" Manfred's deep, lazy voice came through the speaker, smooth like a purring cat — innocent on the surface, but with claws ready to strike.
"What exactly do you want, Manfred?" Janet glared at the drenched bouquet, assuming this was no passing whim. He was serious.
