Chapter 7 - Evelyn Vale’s Desperate Visit
Sunday morning arrived with a cold, pale drizzle that washed the South Boston pavements clean.
I was at Bellamy Blooms by 7:00 AM, wearing a comfortable wool sweater and denim apron, sweeping the fallen rose petals and organizing fresh deliveries of hydrangeas and winter lilies. The bell above the door chimed sharply at 8:30 AM.
I expected a customer or a delivery courier.
Instead, Evelyn Vale stepped into the shop, wrapped in an expensive mink coat, holding a designer leather handbag like a weapon. Without her salon blow-out and society makeup, her eyes looked sunken and frantic.
“June,” she said, closing the door behind her and checking nervously through the glass windows. “We need to talk privately.”
I didn't stop trimming the stems of the white lilies. “You have thirty seconds, Evelyn. Exactly the amount of time Graham said it would take to sign away my life.”
Evelyn rushed toward the counter, her manicured fingers gripping the weathered wood.
“You have to drop this absurd crusade! Graham is my son! Do you have any idea what Vance Sterling’s lawyers are doing? They’ve frozen his trust accounts! They’ve subpoenaed our personal bank records! Victoria’s father is threatening to have Graham indicted for federal securities fraud!”
“Then your son should have thought about the consequences before he committed federal securities fraud,” I said coldly, snipping a thick stem with a sharp crack.
“He was trying to build an empire for both of us!” Evelyn pleaded, her voice rising in pitch. “He was going to give you a financial settlement next year! He was going to buy you a modern shop in the suburbs!”
I set the floral shears down and looked straight into her eyes.
“He left me standing at an altar in front of two hundred people while you sat in the front row checking your watch, waiting for him to finish saying 'I do' to another woman upstairs. You knew every single detail. You ate my engagement dinner, you smiled in my mother’s kitchen, and you helped him plan the theft of her legacy.”
Evelyn’s face hardened, the false desperation turning into venomous malice.
“You think Vance Sterling cares about you?” she sneered. “You’re a tool to him, June! A pawn he’s using to crush a business competitor and teach his sister a lesson. The moment Graham is destroyed, Vance will throw you back into this dusty little flower shop and forget your name!”
The shop door opened with a sudden, authoritative push.
Vance Sterling stepped across the threshold, holding two cups of artisanal coffee and a baker’s box of fresh croissants. He wore a dark cashmere sweater and an overcoat, looking relaxed, dominant, and utterly unbothered.
“Is that what I’m going to do, Mrs. Vale?” Vance asked mildly, setting the coffee on the counter right beside me.
Evelyn froze, backing away from the counter as if Vance were a predator in the wild.
“Mr. Sterling... I was just explaining to June that family matters should be settled out of court—”
“June is no longer any part of your family,” Vance said, stepping beside me, his shoulder lightly brushing mine with an unmistakable sense of protective ownership. “And as for you, Evelyn, the Suffolk County District Attorney issued two search warrants for your residence twenty minutes ago. If I were you, I’d hurry home before the detectives start prying open your floor safes.”
Evelyn gasped, turned on her designer heels, and practically sprinted out the door into the rain.
May you like
I looked at Vance, a genuine laugh escaping my lips for the first time in forty-eight hours. “Do they really have search warrants?”
“Not yet,” Vance murmured, handing me a warm cup of coffee. “They’re arriving at noon. But she doesn't know that.”
