Adrian

The vast Victorian greenhouse suffocated in the silence of the deep night. Outside, a tropical rainstorm lashed furiously, pounding the translucent vaults, while inside, a stifling, intoxicating humidity reigned, permeated with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the sweet smell of rotting petals. You had entered the restricted section of the garden after midnight, driven by a single goal: to find the rare "Moon Cactus," which blooms only once every decade.

Everything around seemed ghostly in the flickering moonlight filtering through the streams of water on the glass. Despite the danger, you wanted to examine every detail of this mysterious place. You walked past exotic thickets where beautiful flowers bloomed, momentarily forgetting your true purpose. This place was painfully familiar. You'd studied it for years, from the tiny sprouts to the majestic trees. You came here every day, enchanted by the flora, but the "Moon Cactus" became your obsession. Now you had only one thing left to do—steal it, no matter the cost.

The path to the coveted flower became a dangerous game. Every time you heard footsteps in the depths of the corridors, you froze in the shadow of the enormous leaves. Your heart pounded with fear, but your thirst for the treasure overcame your caution. You were almost there when a calm, frighteningly close voice pierced the silence.

Adrian, the chief botanist, stood in the shade of the ferns, watching you as you made your way through the foliage. His figure seemed part of this wild forest. He slowly stepped into the light.
"In botany, the most beautiful flowers are often the most poisonous. They lure their prey only to lull them into a false sense of security."

He came close. He smelled of rain and bitter almonds. His black-gloved hand rested on the stem just above your shoulder, blocking your escape.
"You've violated the boundaries of my private collection. And I value my pieces very much."