?Chapter 1107:


    Ste’s lips curved. “Then a flower shop it is.”


    And when Ste said she’d handle something, she meant it.


    Within a week, she’d found a cozy storefront on a quiet, tree-lined street and turned it into a charming boutique called Sweet Bloom.


    Ste’s gift of the flower shop wasn’t just generosity—it was her quiet way of making things right with Jasmine.


    One warm afternoon, sunlight streamed through the wide shop windows, spilling over rows of tulips, daisies, and roses. The air smelled faintly ofvender and fresh soil. Jasmine stood behind the counter, trimming a bouquet of white roses, her movements calm and steady.


    Then the doorbell chimed. Jasmine looked up—and paused.


    A handsome man in a crisp white suit stepped inside, the afternoon light glinting off his watch. He looked to be around thirty, tall and clean-cut, with eyes the color of a deep, calm sea. His presence carried a quiet confidence that drew attention without trying.


    His gaze swept across the shop before settling on Jasmine. A faint, polite smile touched his lips.


    “Good afternoon,” he said, his voice smooth and warm. “I’d like to choose a bouquet.”


    Jasmine blinked, quickly setting down her shears and wiping her hands. “Of course. Is it for someone, or just for decoration?”


    “For someone.” He moved slowly toward the lilies, running his fingers lightly over the petals. “For a woman,” he added. “Are lilies a good choice?”


    His tone carried genuine curiosity, not the usual flirtation Jasmine was used to from male customers.


    She nodded, meeting his eyes. “They’re perfect, actually. Lilies represent purity, love, and family harmony. They’re elegant, but meaningful.”


    He smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to make her pulse quicken. “Then lilies it is.”


    Jasmine chose the freshest stems and began arranging them carefully. “Would you like me to wrap them?”


    “Yes, please.” He paused, then added, “I’m Ian Hayes, by the way. And you are?”


    Jasmine nced up briefly as she tied a ribbon. “Jasmine yton.”


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    Ian chuckled softly. “Pretty name. It suits you.”


    Jasmine felt her cheeks warm as she focused on wrapping the bouquet, pretending not to notice his eyes lingering a moment too long.


    When she finished, she handed it to him with a polite smile. Ian epted the flowers, then slipped her a sleek white business card.


    “My contact info,” he said lightly. “I might be back to bother you again.”


    Before Jasmine could ask what he meant, he paid, thanked her, and left.


    The shop door closed softly behind him, leaving the faint scent of lilies in the air. Jasmine stood there for a moment before ncing down at the card.


    Ian was a senior consultant at a global firm.


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