Page 115 of Devil's Tulip

What made her run away from home?

“Thank you so much, Gigi,” she says as she finally reaches me, extending her hands like we’re long-lost relatives reuniting. I keep my arms firmly at my sides, meeting her gaze with ice in mine.

“Do notevercall me that again,” I snap, and she flinches like I slapped her. But something shifts in her eyes—something dark and cunning—but it’s so brief I gaslight myself into thinking I imagined it.

“Alright, I won’t,” she says meekly, trembling. Then she forces a weak smile. “I’m just so glad you let me in. I know I’ve done nothing to deserve your kindness, but you’re just so soft-hearted… just like your father was.”

Suspicion narrows my eyes. This is the first time she’s ever mentioned my dad to my face. But before I can ask what she means by that, she shivers again, and I reluctantly step aside. “Come on in.”

Gracie is waiting for us in the foyer. A subtle nod from me sends her melting into the background, though I can tell from the set of her shoulders she’s not completely at ease.

That makes two of us.

“Where is everybody?” Marie asks as I lead her into the living room and wait for her to sit down.

“Everybody?” I ask as I take a seat across from her.

“The Mad Hat–I-” She clears her throat abashedly when I skewer her with my glare. “Sorry, I meant Michael’s security. The people who are meant to protect us–you.”

My lips press together. I regret letting her in already. I hope this impulsive generosity doesn’t come back to bite me—or worse, Michael.

“Don’t worry about that,” I say flatly. “We’re well secured. What happened with Uncle Aldo? Why did you run away?”

She places trembling hands on her knees and bursts into tears. “Oh, don’t mention that monster. He blamed me forDario’s death. Said our son died because I didn’t raise him well. And he’s been very… physical with his anger towards me.” Her voice wobbles as she sniffles. “Tonight, he started drinking with his friends in the house, and I overheard him telling them that he’ll s–send me to meet my son since I’m too old to give him another heir. He wants to marry a younger woman, Gia.” Her sobs intensify. “Oh, Gia, he’s so horrible.”

She continues sobbing, shoulders shaking emphatically, and I just watch her, detached. What does she expect? That I’ll rush to comfort her? Offer her my shoulder to cry on? After everything she allowed to happen to me under her roof?

Not fucking likely.

Besides, I doubt she’d appreciate that. The only reason she came here at all is because she had nowhere else to go.

I get up from my chair, clearing my throat awkwardly. “It’s okay. Let me just get us some tea.”

She glances up at me, teary-eyed, and I give her a stiff nod before turning towards the door.

But just as my hand closes around the handle, pain explodes through my neck, lightning-striking straight into my skull. I cry out, slapping my hand to the source as icy liquid floods my bloodstream, chilling me to the bones.

My heart stutters.

A thick syringe juts from my neck and I turn, movements already sluggish, to see Marie standing behind me, her face twisted with savage glee. Confusion swamps me as my vision swirls. “W–what arrr yew do-ing?” The words slur out. My limbs feel like lead. My heartbeat slows to a crawl.

Aunt Maria smirks, all traces of the cowering victim evaporated. “Don’t worry,Gigi. It’s not deadly—you don’t get to die yet. Not this easily anyway. It’s just something to knock you out. Makes transporting you out of here easier.”

She yanks the syringe from my neck with unnecessary violence, and my legs finally betray me. I collapse against the door, body crumpling into a useless heap. My arms won’t move. My legs won’t respond. My lungs struggle to keep up.

The ceiling sways—spinning, twisting.

Once.

Twice.

Then darkness devours me.

The voices drag me back to consciousness.

They’re loud.Annoying.

I try to raise my hands to cover my ears, to drown out their words, but my arms won’t respond. Neither will my legs when I try to stretch them.

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