Page 3 of Devil's Tulip

Not a chance. That won’t be me.

Without a second glance back, I step out of my room. For the last time.

Uncle Aldo’s men barely flick their eyes my way as I limp past them out of the house. Another day, another bruise—nothing worth their attention. And since they’ve never bothered looking too closely, none of them notice the extra layers I’m smuggling under my coat.

I reach the garage without any trouble, naturally drifting towards my old Buick. But then something shiny catches my eye, and I stop. Slowly, my gaze drifts to the luxury sports car in the corner.Dario’s baby.

A wicked smile creeps across my lips as a delicious, reckless, utterly insane plan takes shape.

Before I can second-guess this surge of vindictive brilliance, I make my way to the safe where the keys for all the cars in the garage are stored, take out the Jaguar’s key, and press the fob.

The car chirps cheerfully, its lights blinking as if eager to join my rebellion.

What’s the worst they can do when they find out I ran awayandtook Dario’s baby? Kill me? I throw my head back, laughing maniacally as a thrill of adrenaline rushes through my veins.

My steps are lighter as I approach his car. The door yields to me easily, and I slide into the driver's seat like I’ve always belonged there. I place my backpack between my thighs as I turn the ignition, andoh—the engine wakes with a deep, satisfying purr that vibrates through my bones and straight into places that make me shiver.

“Sweet baby,” I murmur appreciatively, gliding my hand over the steering wheel’s smooth curves. “You don’t deserve what I’m about to do with you.”

And God, I mean it. Every word. The thought of it almost pains me—I’m not exactly the destructive type. Not likethem. But then I picture just how enraged and frustrated Dario will be when he finds out what I’ve done… and that makes it all worthwhile.

It’s in that moment that I realize: there’s nothing more dangerous than an angry woman with nothing to lose.

And I’ve officially reached my breaking point.

A week ago, the very idea of running away would have been unthinkable, a fantasy so far beyond my reach it might as well have been on another planet. And doing it in Dario’s expensive car? I’d have been scared shitless of his retaliation.

But that was before Uncle Aldo signed my death warrant with a wedding invitation. If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well go out on my own terms, middle fingers raised.

Fuck them. Fuck this place.

I throw the car into reverse and back out of the garage. For a moment, I brace myself for shouts, pounding footsteps, even gunfire. But the compound stays silent. Nobody stops me, the huge front gates opening up automatically as I approach them.

The tint on the windows and the upper windshield keeps me hidden from the guards. And because Dario is a piece of shit everyone here fears even more than Uncle Aldo, they’d never imagine anyone brave enough to steal his car—least of all little ole me—so they don’t bother to stop and search it like they would if I were leaving in my Buick.

My grin grows wider as I drive out of the compound.

1

MICHAEL

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me.” I narrow my eyes on the house filled with bright, almost blinding lights sitting back from the road. “Are they really in there?”

No one could possibly be that stupid, right?

Everyone in this city knows the rules: you steal from me—or my brothers—and you might as well dig your own grave. If you’re dumb enough to try, and you’re caught, you run like Satan himself is on your heels. What you don’t do is hole up in a house that might as well have a neon sign saying,Here we are.

And yet, these brain-dead morons haven’t just been stealing our pharmaceutical products, they’ve been diluting them with addictive drugs and regurgitating them back onto the streets. The arrogance is unreal.

Lorenzo chuckles beside me. “Oh, they’re in there alright. Jake has a hard-on for his fancy security system. Thinks it makes him untouchable.”

I don’t miss his jab at me. I’ve been refusing his advice to bring guards into my home instead of relying solely on my security software. But there’s a crucial difference betweenthis Jake character and me—I don’t just put blind faith in my security.

Ibuiltthat software with my own hands. Line by line, code by code, dismantled and rebuilt it countless times until it became unbreachable by anyone except the creator.Me.

And the delicious irony? Jake’s fortress runs on my architecture.

“Stay here until I call you in,” I order while unlocking my car.

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