Page 68 of Devil's Tulip

She gives a sheepish shrug. “I mean, the guys have a code—no hurting women or kids—but one can never be completely sure with Michael. You have to understand, he’s a bit…unstable.”

She isn’t the first person to say that about him, but I frown because, to me, he seems pretty stable. “You said you’ve been in my shoes before. Did your husband hurt you?”

Her eyes widen like I just suggested the sun rises in the west. “No, Maximo wouldnever,” she says emphatically. “He’d ratherchop off his own fingers, one by one, before he lays a hand on me.”

Maximo. That’s her husband, I think. So then… what? “He threatened you to marry him?”

She chuckles, nodding. “Oh, yeah. The motherfucker had a gun trained on my brother and father and threatened to kill them if I didn’t marry him.”

My lips part slightly. And she’slaughingabout it? Maybe she’s the unstable one, andshemight need help. “Do–do you need help?” I ask carefully.

She laughs harder. “No, darling, it’s fine. He wouldn’t have killed them, but I didn’t know that at the time. We’re fine—we’re in love.”

Right. Because nothing screams romance like a forced marriage at gunpoint.

She sighs, waving a hand like this is all just a funny little misunderstanding. “Anyways, sorry about my assumption. I just couldn’t bear it if you were being threatened and I could have helped but didn’t. You know how awful that would feel? Like, imagine finding out later that someone was suffering, and you just went about your day, totally oblivious? I’d never forgive myself.”

She keeps talking, but I barely hear her.They’re in love.She’s in love with a man who kidnapped her and threatened to kill her family? She says he wouldn’t have killed them, but how sure is she really? I wonder if I should introduce her to the word ‘Stockholm syndrome’.

“…but hey, congratulations!” Elira’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I blink back to the present just in time to see her clapping her hands together, as if that somehow erases the absolute insanity she just confessed. “And I’m not just here to toss around accusations, you know. Michael brought me here to give you some moral support—that’s why I was suspicious.I mean, I’ve never seen that man look worried about someone before. It’s kind of impressive, honestly.”

She reaches for the bag slung over her shoulder and starts rummaging through it, still chatting like we’re discussing wedding plans instead of literal hostage situations. I should probably say something, but my brain is still catching up. Not that she’s giving me a chance, though…

“But now that I know you’re doing this of your own free will—for whatever reason,” she grins, finally pulling something out, “congratulations. And here, this is for you.Gifts.”

I accept the bag with a small frown, getting a bit overwhelmed. She’s like a little tornado. I unzip it and take out a small box. Inside, a pair of diamond earrings glisten under the light.

“I got them last night after Michael called Maximo and told me about you. I figured if you made the decision to go through with this marriage yourself, you should at least get to do some of the traditional things I never got to do for my own wedding. It can be your ‘something new’.”

My lips part in surprise. “This–this must have cost quite a fortune, I can’t accept it.” I close the box and toss it back into the bag, suddenly afraid to check what else is in there. She did say gifts, plural.

“Of course you can,” she says easily, her tone both reasonable and sweet. “I just told you, I’m like a sister to Michael, which means you’re going to be my sister-in-law. And friend, I hope. So you could even say I’m trying to bribe you. Hell, I’m turning into Maximo.” She mutters the last part under her breath like she’s only just realizing.

I let out a breathy laugh despite myself.

“Look, I don’t really know the situation between you and Michael,” she continues, “but Idoknow what it’s like to have a wedding ceremony that feels more like a transaction than acelebration. And I remember how overwhelmed and alone I felt. So yeah, I admit, I’m trying to buy your friendship—but not for some nefarious reason, I swear. I genuinely want to be your friend. And this—” she waves at the bag in my hand, “—isn’t much. You’re getting married to Michael, so you’ll see what I mean. Money isn’t a problem for us.”

Before I can reply, the door opens and Mrs. Monti pops her head in. She glances at Elira—who’s still on her knees before me—and raises a curious brow. Elira gets to her feet swiftly. “Come on, check the other contents of the bag.”

I sigh and do as she says. Reaching inside, I pull out a long, silky bridal veil with pearls beaded across the delicate fabric.

“It’s from my second wedding a few weeks ago.” Elira grins. “It can be your ‘something borrowed’ and ‘old’.”

Mrs. Monti steps fully into the room, nodding approvingly. “Perfect. I have something blue for you here, Gia.” She takes two light blue dove-shaped hair clips out of her apron, each bird surrounded by tiny pearls, and holds them up. “Michael asked me to give these to you.”

I inhale sharply as I study the pretty clips.Dove. I can almost hear him calling me that. My fingers curl possessively around them, a little tenderness welling in my chest. Is this his way of showing he’s thinking about me?

A lump rises in my throat, and I blink rapidly to push back the tears. This isn’t a real wedding. Itisn’t.

“It’s beautiful,” Elira murmurs, breaking the silence. “And the pearls go perfectly with your veil.”

I give her a small, grateful smile as Mrs. Monti gets behind me and carefully pins the clips into my hair, pulling part of it back into an elegant half-up, half-down style.

“Thank you. Both of you,” I manage in a whisper.

Mrs. Monti steps back, studying her work with satisfied little tut noises, while Elira pats my hand with a warm smile.

“I need to go check on my husband before he storms in here, but I’ll see you out there.” She winks. “I know you’ll make a beautiful bride. Good luck!”

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