Page 50 of Devil's Tulip

Beside me, Michael stiffens, like he’s surprised. But it’s an act. I know it’s all an act.Hebrought me here. He did this.

My feet remain firmly planted on the elevator floor, refusing to budge.

“Michael, welcome. We’ve been expecting you.” The voice comes from behind Uncle Aldo, but I can’t tear my eyes away from my uncle—from the pure, blistering wrath in his stare. My breath shudders, tears stinging my eyes. But I blink them back rapidly. I really can’t afford to cry right now.

“Rafael, what is this?” Michael snaps. “Why is he here?”

Aldo steps forward with a slimy smile directed at Michael. “Thank you very much for your services, Michael. But I’ll take over from here. My niece and I have a lot to catch up on.”

A broad chest suddenly covers my vision, and I realize it’s Lorenzo planting himself in front of me like a shield.

Lorenzo, who I just met and don’t even know.

Not Michael. Never Michael.

Because he betrayed me.He played me.

How could he?

Someone speaks in rapid-fire Italian that I’m too lost in my head to follow. I only catch bits and pieces here and there.Your job is done, Michael. You’ll be well compensated.

And that’s when I completely dissociate. Tears spill freely down my cheeks as I stare blankly at the broad shoulder in front of me.

And then someone, Rafael, I believe, growls, “Step away from the girl, Lorenzo.”

It’s obviously a command, and the tone demands to be followed. Lorenzo obeys without hesitation, moving aside, and I finally get my first clear look at this Rafael. A tall, handsome man, with steel eyes colder than Antarctica. The way he stands alone radiates absolute power, and I know he’s the one in charge here.

“You need to understand, Gigi, it’s just business,” the man tells me slowly, almost sounding sympathetic. But his tone doesn’t match his demeanor, so I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him.

I don’t trustanyof them.

“Don’t fucking speak to her,” Michael’s voice lashes through the space, rough and edged with something close to fury.

But Uncle Aldo is already stepping into the elevator.With me. And that’s when I realize Lorenzo and Michael—the traitor—had already stepped off.

The walls of the elevator seem to close in. My heart cracks open, and I can barely hear through the roaring in my ears.

Michael betrayed me. Michael, who kissed me. Who called me dove. Who held my hand just hours ago.

“Gianna.” His voice is low. Almost pleading. Almost piercing through my fog of numbness.

That motherfucker. I trusted him!

I tilt my head towards the general direction of his voice but refuse to meet his eyes, fixing my gaze on his tattooed scalp.

“Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, and I don’t miss Uncle Aldo’s scoff next to me.

I grit my teeth. “Don’t call me that,” I say to Michael’s tattoo just as my uncle’s hand slams against the elevator button and the doors begin sliding shut.

And I—like a goddamn masochist—can’t stop myself. At the last second, I look into Michael’s eyes, needing to see the glee in his eyes.

But there’s no glee.

His eyes are anguished and pained.

My brows furrow in confusion—just as the doors snap shut between us.

Uncle Aldo’s hand clamps onto my arm, roughly dragging me away from my corner. “You little bitch?—”

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