The word "Soon" echoed in my mind, a chilling promise of something inescapable. I threw the rose into the trash, scrubbing the lingering scent of it from my hands with furious intensity. I needed to know what Grayson wanted, needed to understand the meaning behind the roses and the cryptic messages.
I called Wilson, the only person who could possibly have any answers. He was Grayson's right-hand man, his confidante, his shadow. He probably knows everything.
He answered on the third ring, his voice tight with apprehension. "Scarlett? What do you want?"
"I need to talk to Grayson," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.
"That's not possible," Wilson replied, his tone clipped and dismissive. "Mr. Thorne is a very busy man."
"This is important, Wilson," I insisted. "It's about the roses."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't play dumb with me," I snapped. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. The blue roses, the messages…Grayson is stalking me, and I need to know why."
Wilson sighed heavily. "Look, Scarlett, I can't talk about this over the phone. It's…complicated."
"Then meet me," I said, seizing the opportunity. "Tonight. Neutral ground. The coffee shop downtown."
He hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly agreed. "Fine. But don't expect me to tell you anything you want to hear."
I hung up the phone, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. I had a feeling this conversation with Wilson would be a turning point. Either I'd get the answers I desperately needed, or I'd be drawn even deeper into Grayson's twisted game.
That night, the coffee shop was bustling with activity. The aroma of coffee and pastries filled the air, a stark contrast to the tension that coiled within me. I spotted Wilson sitting in a secluded booth in the back, his face pale and drawn. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
I slid into the booth across from him, my gaze fixed on his. "Alright, Wilson," I said, getting straight to the point. "Tell me everything."
He hesitated, glancing around nervously before leaning in close. "Mr. Thorne…he's obsessed with you, Scarlett. He's been watching you for months."
"I know that," I said, my voice laced with impatience. "I need to know why."
Wilson swallowed hard. "He…he believes that you're special. That you're destined for something great. He thinks he needs to protect you."
"Protect me from what?" I asked, incredulous. "By stalking me and sending me cryptic messages?"
"He thinks there are people who want to hurt you," Wilson replied, his voice barely a whisper. "People who would try to exploit your talent."
I stared at him, my mind reeling. "That's insane," I said, shaking my head. "Grayson is the one I'm afraid of."
"I know it sounds crazy," Wilson said, his eyes pleading. "But he truly believes he's doing what's best for you."
"And the roses?" I asked. "What's the deal with the blue roses?"
"They're...a symbol," Wilson said, his voice strained. "Of his devotion. Of his…unconditional love."
"Unconditional love?" I scoffed. "That's not love, Wilson. That's obsession."
"I know," Wilson said softly. "I've tried to talk to him, to reason with him. But he won't listen. He's convinced that he's the only one who can protect you."
"Then help me," I said, my voice desperate. "Help me stop him. Please, Wilson, you're his best friend. You must have some influence over him."
Wilson looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and helplessness. "I wish I could, Scarlett. But I'm afraid it's too late. He's already gone too far."
"What do you mean?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
Wilson hesitated, then leaned in even closer. "He's planning something, Scarlett. Something big. And you're at the center of it all."