Page 52 of Devil's Tulip

“You need to calm down, Michael,” Lorenzo murmurs as we get into the elevator, raising his hands in surrender when I glower at him. “You know I’m on your side. I’m always on your side. But you can’t just storm into Aldo’s place now.”

He’s right, of course. Not only would it look bad for my brothers and me, but it would also give Aldo and Carlo the right to call us out for perceived injustice. And if they took it to thecommissione?

That would be a disaster.

My brothers and I have total control over New York City; we worked hard for it. But thecommissioneis a council of the ruling families across the entire country, and let’s just say… I’m not exactly a favorite amongst any of them.

I could lose her forever.

I need a strategy, not blind rage.

“We’ll go in the morning,” I declare as the elevator doors open to the basement.

My thumb rolls over the ring on my thumb as we walk towards the car, my mind already spinning with plans.

I should have fucked her.Raw. No condom. No protection. At least then I could claim her—say she might be pregnant with my child. But now I have no hold on her. No rights.Nothing.

That’s going to fucking change the second I have her back in my clutches.

Lorenzo is silent on the ride back home, but as soon as we pull up to my gates and they start winding open, he speaks up. “Oliver Williams is in the basement of the shed, like you ordered. Want to pay him a visit? Might help relieve some of your anger.”

I frown at him, not in the mood for games. “Who?”

“Our patent thief.”

Ah.

My lips curl into something that might be a smile. “Of course. Take me to him.”

Lorenzo nods at Marco, who veers past the driveway to what we call the shed house, which is strategically built a few blocks away from the main house near the water.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the small A-roof structure, and I step out, already itching to spill some blood. Shrugging off my jacket, I toss it onto my seat and work at my cufflinks, slipping them into my pockets as I head for the door. Lorenzo moves ahead, quickly pushing it open for me.

Inside, the air is thick with dust and age. To anyone who might accidentally stumble in, it looks just like any normal shed cluttered with various tools—old lawnmowers, a shovel, a ladder, and a shelf stacked with potted plants taken care of by my ‘gardener’.

Lorenzo presses his thumb on the side of the shelf, and a soft buzz fills the air as the furniture slowly shifts from its position, exposing what looks like an ordinary wall. This time, he placeshis whole palm against it, and the structure rearranges itself, pushing back to reveal an inner room.

We go in, the door sealing shut behind us. Overhead, red motion lights flicker on, illuminating a pair of stairs going downwards towards the basement. I roll my sleeves up to my elbow as we descend, Lorenzo leading the way.

At the foot of the stairs, a long hallway stretches ahead, ending at a lone, metal door. Lorenzo types in the passcode, and with a quiet hiss, the door swings inward.

We walk into the interrogation room.

The room is divided into two sections. The side we’re on is a medium-sized space with comfortable chairs, all facing a large window. From here, we have a clear view of the adjoining room, where the window appears as a mirror to anyone inside. They might suspect they’re being watched, but the soundproofing ensures they can’t hear a thing.

I step towards the glass, taking in the man strapped to the restraining chair, struggling against his bonds. “So this is our thief.”

“He worked in the IT department as a web developer. Used his company ID to hack into a cloud he wasn’t authorized to see. Got the intel he wanted and tried to sell off the patent for the tablet we’re currently working on, passing it off as his own.”

I already know all this, but I nod, following Lorenzo to the door that will take us to where our thief is waiting. The fact that he even managed to hack into the cloud at all pisses me off. I’m going to have to dismantle the code and rebuild it back—after firing the incompetent engineers who let this shit happen in the first place.

Lorenzo opens the door and steps aside, allowing me to go in first.

The second I enter, the man’s head jerks up. His mouth falls open, eyes widening in raw, unfiltered terror as he recognizesme. “The Mad Hatter,” he murmurs under his breath, trying to push his chair away from me by kicking at the floor. A futile effort since the chair is high off the ground, leaving his legs dangling uselessly in the air.

I raise a brow in surprise. Only people who know who my brothers and I really are use that nickname. The people who refer to us as the Nightshades.

Until now, those two worlds had never crossed.

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