Chapter 53

• Celeste’s POV
• The roses are heavier than they look.
• Michael says it’s because ninety-nine isn’t an ordinary number — it’s deliberate, ceremonial, grand in the way of men who believe gestures can buy anything. He lifts the bouquet to me with that easy, practiced gentleness of a wolf who learned manners in a different pack. The petals flash like blood under the late sun; their scent cuts into the grease and spice clinging to my skin from another life, and for a second the fragrance feels like a lie.