The Coveted Rose of Manhattan

The morning dew still moistened the rose petals on the rooftop when Izzy came out, carrying a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea. The usually noisy Manhattan seemed quieter at this altitude, mixed with the sweet, intoxicating scent of the many varieties of roses in bloom. Izzy walked slowly between the beds, examining each flower with the eye of a lover.

This morning, her attention was drawn to a yellow rose with a hint of pink at the tips of its petals. Some of its leaves looked a little yellow. Izzy carefully took the pruning shears she always carried with her and cut off the wilted leaves.

After that, Izzy checked the moisture of the soil around the roots, making sure it was neither too dry nor too wet. Izzy took a spray bottle filled with organic fertilizer solution and sprayed it evenly over the entire plant, providing the nutrients needed for healthy growth.

"Good morning, Miss Izzy," a soft voice greeted from the stairs. Lila de la Cruz, with her bright smile, carried a basket filled with other gardening tools.

"Good morning, Lila," she replied, smiling in relief at her presence.

"It seems like some of the leaves started to turn yellow last night. Did you notice that too?"

Lila approached and examined the rose plant.

"Yes, Miss. It's probably just because of the change in weather yesterday. But it's okay, I've prepared some organic fungicide just in case."

Lila then began to weed some small grasses growing around the other plants, her movements agile and attentive. They worked in comfortable silence, enjoying the beauty of the morning and the scent of roses that filled the air.

Not long after, Izzy's phone rang. The name "Dad" was displayed on the screen. Izzy took a breath before answering. "Morning, Dad."

"Izzy, good morning," Julian Moreau's voice sounded a little rushed as usual. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay. There's an important charity event tonight, and Eleanor and I will be attending. You're expected to attend too."

"Of course, Dad," I replied shortly, looking at a bright red 'Ingrid Bergman' rose. The charity event was just one of many social obligations I had to fulfill.

"Great. Eleanor will contact you with the details. I'm in a meeting. See you later." The call ended in a flash.

After finishing up the gardening and chatting with Lila for a while, Izzy went downstairs to her photography studio. The morning light pouring in through the large windows was perfect for capturing some freshly picked roses.

Izzy set up a softbox, attached a macro lens to her camera, and began capturing the beauty of each petal's detail, the soft textures, and the stunning gradations of color. Photography was Izzy's way of really seeing the world, of slowing down the moment and appreciating the beauty that often goes unnoticed.

While she was busy snapping away, her phone rang again. This time it was Chloe, her best friend.

"Izzy darling! Where are you? I'm in the mood for some fresh gossip. How about we meet at the 'Café des Fleurs' this afternoon?"

"Sure, Chloe," she replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. "One o'clock?"

"Perfect! See you later, honey!"

After finishing her morning photography session, Izzy felt a little more energized. Meeting Chloe always promised some light chatter and maybe some interesting ideas for Izzy's art projects.

However, as Izzy packed up her equipment and looked back at the photos of roses she had just taken, there was one photo that made her frown. It showed a 'Moonstone' rose that looked wilted and blackened at the edges, as if something had touched it strangely. In fact, this morning when Izzy was gardening, the rose had looked fine. A vague feeling of unease began to creep into her heart.

After saving the photos of the roses on her computer, Izzy left her photography studio. It was past eleven o'clock, giving her about an hour to get ready before meeting Chloe at the "Café des Fleurs."

She chose an outfit that felt light and feminine, fitting for the Manhattan springtime atmosphere.

In front of the mirror in her walk-in closet, Izzy sorted through several options. Finally, she settled on a pale cream blouse with a ribbon detail that could be tied into a loose knot at the neck.

The sleeves of the blouse were slightly flared at the shoulders and the cuffs gave it a classic, elegant touch.

She paired it with a soft mauve midi skirt with neat vertical pleats, creating a graceful silhouette that moved beautifully as she walked. As a finishing touch, Izzy chose a small sling bag in the same color and a pair of simple yet chic cream-colored pointed heels.

A few small pearl earrings adorned her ears, and she let her golden blonde hair fall softly.

As the car glided smoothly through the streets of the West Village, Izzy gazed out the window. The tall buildings, The hustle and bustle of city traffic felt so familiar, but today there was a slight trace of boredom in her mind.

After graduating from art design school with satisfactory grades, her dream of working as an artist was forced to be buried deep.

Her father had a different vision for her: Izzy should become one of the faces of Moreau Group management, continuing the family legacy.

Although she understood her father's good intentions, deep down, the longing to create something that was truly hers continued to bloom.

The corporate world felt foreign to her, far different from the freedom of expression she found in art and photography.

Not long after, Izzy's car stopped in front of "Café des Fleurs." As the name suggests, the cafe is decorated with colorful fresh flowers.

Small tables with rattan chairs line the sidewalk, creating a charming Parisian atmosphere in the middle of Manhattan. The aroma of coffee, sweet pastries, and the faint scent of flowers wafted softly through the air.

Izzy chose a table inside, near the large window facing the street. The interior of the cafe was dominated by soft pastel colors, with flower paintings decorating the walls and vases of fresh flowers on each table. She ordered a croque madame and a glass of iced latte.

Not long after, a woman with a wide smile and sparkling eyes entered the cafe. Her long brown hair was styled in waves, her face bright with energy that always radiated. Chloe, Izzy's best friend since high school, waved enthusiastically from the entrance. With cheerful steps, she approached Izzy's table and immediately hugged her tightly.

"Izzy darling! Finally! I can't wait to hear all your latest stories!"

Chloe exclaimed in her cheerful voice, typical of her bubbly personality.

As the heir to the perfume chain "Parfums de Fleur," Chloe had an aura that was always fresh and full of enthusiasm, contrasting but complementing Izzy's calmness.

"Chloe! It's so nice to see you," Izzy replied, smiling sincerely.

Chloe's presence always brought joy and slightly distracted her mind from the emptiness that sometimes haunted her. Their conversation would be filled with the latest gossip about Manhattan socialites, travel plans, and maybe a little bit of complaining about the demands of their respective families.

"Oh my gosh, Izzy! You're not going to believe it. Dad has a new business partner, a grown man, of course, but a super hot one! His name is Caleb Thorne-he's dad's partner in our latest fragrance import business.

His face is... strong and brooding, like a model for an expensive perfume commercial. But the problem is, he's indifferent to me! I've tried everything to get his attention, but he just keeps pulling away. It's annoying, isn't it?" Chloe put a hand on her chest dramatically.

"He's my type: mysterious, smart, cool... and oh-so-handsome!"

Izzy listened with a thin smile, occasionally chiming in with a light comment. She was used to Chloe's colorful crush stories that often ended in temporary disappointment. As Chloe was busy telling her failed attempt to ask Caleb Thorne out to dinner, the noisy atmosphere in the cafe suddenly stopped.

The door swung open, and a man in a tattered leather jacket and a hat that covered most of his face stepped in. His movements were quick and menacing. In a matter of seconds, he pulled out a gun from under his jacket.

Izzy's eyes widened in horror as the man pointed the muzzle of the gun straight at Chloe who was still in shock from her unfortunate love story. The sound of gasps could be heard throughout the cafe.

Time seemed to freeze, and all Izzy could see was the glint of cold metal and the look of fear that was starting to appear on her best friend's face.