The shop smelled of roses, lavender, and damp earth from the rain. Evie stood behind the counter, her fingers trembling slightly as she rearranged a bouquet for the third time.
It didn't need rearranging. She just needed something to do.
The tabloid images still flashed in her head, screaming at her in bold letters and high resolution pictures even though she refused to look it up again.
Her stomach twisted and she tried to tell herself it didn't matter. That the photos might have been innocent. That people twisted narratives for clicks.
But deep down, she knew better. It was the fact that Tommy hadn't even mentioned meeting Alexa and had lied outright about where he'd been that hurt most.
The memory burned like acid in her throat. He hadn't been out driving. He hadn't bumped into a friend for a smoke.
He had been with her.
And now Evie was left holding the pieces of something she wasn't sure could be put back together.
Tara had offered to stay in, sensing something was wrong, but Evie had insisted she go out for her lunch break.
"I'm fine," Evie had lied with a brittle smile. "I'll be fine."
Now, standing alone in the empty shop, she realized just how foolish that was.
The bell above the door jingled. Evie jumped, nearly knocking over a vase. She turned, expecting to see a customer, maybe one of the old ladies who bought violets every Thursday.
Instead, her blood ran cold. Callum Parker leaned casually against the doorframe, a smirk twisting his mouth. His dark leather jacket dripped water onto the floor, and his boots squeaked as he stepped inside.
Evie swallowed a loud gasp and the shop suddenly felt ten degrees colder.
"Well, well," he drawled, strolling towards her. "Look at you, princess. Running a fancy little shop all by yourself."
Evie swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to back away. She gripped the edge of the counter instead.
"What are you doing here, Callum?" she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "How did you find me?"
Callum sauntered up to the counter, pulling something from inside his jacket. It was a copy of a tabloid, creased and damp from the rain. He slapped it onto the counter between them but Evie didn't look down.
She didn't need to.
"Rough day?" Callum said mockingly, tapping the headline with one dirty finger. "Your golden boy's been a bad, bad fiancé, hasn't he?"
Evie's nails dug into the wood. "Get out of my shop."
Callum laughed. It was a low and ugly sound that sent shivers up her spine.
"Touchy," he said. "But I guess I get it. It must be hard to find out the man you gave everything to was out wining and dining someone else.
"Evie said nothing. She couldn't. At least, not when her throat felt like it was closing.
Callum leaned closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.
"And here I thought you were smarter than this," he said. "You really believed you were different? Special?"
Evie flinched, but she forced herself to lift her chin."
I said leave!" she said again. Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn't care.
Callum's grin widened. He placed both palms flat on the counter and leaned across it, his face inches from hers.
"Or what?" he hissed. "You'll call for help?"
Evie's heart hammered painfully against her ribs.
Tara was gone and no one was scheduled to stop by until later in the afternoon.
If Callum wanted to hurt her, no one would stop him.
She fought to keep her voice steady.
"You're trespassing," she warned. "I'll call the police."
Callum chuckled darkly. "Oh, no you won't," he said. "Because you know I have more than just a few stupid pictures of you."
Evie stiffened in dismay. No, he wouldn't...
"That's what I like to see," He grinned maniacally at her then leaned even closer. She could smell the sour whiskey on his breath.
"I have videos," he whispered. "The kind that would destroy you. Trust me when I say that it will destroy Tommy. It will destroy everything you're clinging to."
Evie's stomach lurched. "What the f*ck do you want from me? I know you didn't come here just to..."
"Fifty million, sweetheart," Callum said, tapping her engagement ring with one filthy finger. "That's what it costs to make me go away."
Evie yanked her hand back like she'd been burned.
"I don't have that kind of money! Do you think I'm an overnight billionaire now?" she snapped.
Callum shrugged. "Not my problem. You're about to marry into a filthy rich family. Hell, your future mother-in-law is a billionaire. Figure it out."
He straightened up, flashing a chilling smile. "You've got a week," he said. "After that... well..."
He let the sentence dangle ominously. Evie's knees nearly gave out as he turned and strolled toward the door.
The bell chimed again as he pushed it open. But just before stepping into the rain, he glanced back over his shoulder.
"By the way," he said, voice full of cruel delight, "I'm rooting for you, princess. I really am. It's so much more fun when you fall from higher up."
Then he was gone, swallowed by the grey afternoon.
Evie stood frozen behind the counter, her hands shaking violently. She clutched the edge of the wood, trying to anchor herself to something solid, something real.
But everything felt slippery, crumbling, like trying to hold water in her fists.
First it was Tommy's lie. And now, Callum's threat.
The walls she had built to protect herself were crumbling fast. And she was standing right in the wreckage, completely alone.