Page 34 of Devil's Tulip

A slow smile curls my lips as I scoop up another bite of rice. For the first time since I ran from Uncle Aldo’s house, I feel something dangerous and warm unfurl in my chest.

Hope.

11

MICHAEL

I need to be colder towards her. Pretend to not give a shit. Fake it till I make it and all that until it becomes reality. But those whiskey eyes and lush, tempting lips keep invading my thoughts, making it impossible to think straight.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I catch myself glancing back repeatedly to check if she’s following me.

Not because I’m running away.I’m definitely not running.

It’s almost time for my weekly meeting with my brothers, and I hate being late. That’s all. She has no hold on me. None at all. I was just a little fascinated by her, and now that I’ve spent some time with her, I’m over it.

Mostly.

I still need to know what makes her tick.

I shove the thought out of my head as I unlock my office door. It’s none of my business what makes her tick. In three days, we’re going back to Manhattan. I sink into my chair, nodding decisively. Three days is more than enough.

My laptop powers on while I scroll through emails on my tablet. Several messages from Lorenzo catch my attention, and I frown. I’ll need to hop on a call with him after this meeting.

The familiar conference chime sounds just as my screen lights up. Barely made it—exactlywhy I left Gianna downstairs. I hope she’s eating her meal. My eyes drift to the door as I join, and I have to fight the urge to check on her through the cameras.

“Something interesting behind your screen? Share with the class.” Maximo’s teasing pulls my attention to the meeting.

I raise an unamused brow at him. Ever since he settled into his marital bliss a couple of months ago, he fancies himself a damn comedian, and I’m not in the mood right now.

“I have a lot on my plate, ” I say, making a show of checking my wrist despite not wearing a watch. “So can we cut the comedy routine and get this show on the road?”

“Yes, Michael. We’re all businessmen here, and I believe we all have two or ten things to handle.” Romero, ever the pragmatist, intercedes before Maximo can retort. Then, after a beat, he adds, “Though I understand why you’ve got a fire under your ass. Heard a twenty-three-year-old girl is eluding you.”

Fucker.Classic lawyer move—trying to bait information out of me through taunts. But I know his game.

“You motherfu–”

“Men, that’s enough.” Rafael cuts in before I can cuss Romero out. The asshole grins at me cheekily, and I narrow my eyes at him. But Rafael keeps talking. “The Albanian factions have begun their merging process.”

“I thought we saw this coming,” I say, leaning back, arms crossing.

My brothers and I control three of New York’s five boroughs, with the fourth and fifth divided amongst two other Italian families—who still have to answer to us—and our old rivals, the Albanians and their allies, the Russians.

But a few months ago, the Albanians got greedy, slowly setting up little offshoots in our boroughs, which rampedup tensions. Then Maximo went and kidnapped an Albanian princess, turning us into grudging allies by marrying the chit.

So yeah, it was kind of expected that they’d all move to Queens—Maximo’s territory—to coexist peacefully.

“Yes, but it’s happening faster than anticipated, and it’s messing up the ecosystem.” Maximo sighs. “There’s no way they can all stay in Queens because…”

My eyes slide to my tablet, and before I can stop myself, I pick it up. A few taps and swipes, and I’m in the security system, scanning the live feeds until I find the dining area—where, surprisingly, Gianna is eating her meal with a look of pure satisfaction.

Like the cat that got the canary.

My eyes narrow.What is she plotting now?

“... don’t you think so, Michael?”

“Huh?” My head snaps up.

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