Page 74 of Devil's Tulip

She slides her gaze to me. “Hungover? No. Did I say or do anything I shouldn’t have last night?” Her face is appropriately contrite, and I might have believed her bluff if not for the telltale flush at the tips of her ears.

She remembers. She’s just pretending she doesn’t.

I smile. “We’re married now, so what you did doesn’t really matter.” My eyes catch on her bare ring finger.I need to rectify that.

“What did I do?” Gianna asks, and when I look up at her face again, she’s watching me suspiciously, fingers idly playing with the pendant of her necklace.

“You really don’t remember?” I close the distance between us and grasp her by the chin. “You confessed your love to me last night,amore.”

Her eyes widen dramatically. “You bloody liar. I did no such thing, I—” She cuts herself off with a low curse, jerking her face out of my grip when she realizes she just took my bait. “Fucking asshole.”

“I’myourasshole now,” I remind her.

She huffs and spins on her heel, clearly done with me.

But I’m not done with her.

“We’re having dinner guests tomorrow,” I call, stopping her in her tracks. “You don’t have to worry about the logistics or cooking—Gracie will take care of all that. Just show up looking like your pretty self.”

She turns slowly, eyes narrowed. “Dinner guests? Who?”

“My brothers. You met one of them yesterday. The other two want to meet you.”

Her expression hardens. “Is that–thatmangoing to be there?”

I don’t need to ask who she’s talking about. “You mean Rafael? Yes. But he’s not going to do anything to bother you. I’ll protect you.”

She studies me, lips pressed together, like she’s weighing whether to believe me.

So I say it again, slower this time. “I’ll protect you.”

A beat passes. Then she nods shortly and walks out. But I catch the flash of trust in her eyes.

It’s a start.

21

GIANNA

I smooth my hands down my dress, trying to steady my nerves. It’s one thing to get married to a perfect stranger—I’ve already made my peace with that. Stranger or not, I can handle Michael.

But meeting his brothers? That’s a whole different nightmare.

Though I’ve gleaned from conversations I’ve had with Gracie that they aren’t blood-related, I believe the brothers you choose often have a stronger bond than those you’re stuck with by birth. That means loyalty. That means protection. That means… they’re probably going to tear me apart tonight.

Do they know the true circumstances of our marriage? Probably—since Maximo was our witness, and his wife, Elira, straight-up asked if I was here under duress. What if they decide to interrogate me?

I already know Rafael—the head of the Nightshades—will be there. And now that I’ve connected Michael to the founder of HartSphere, I realize just how naive I’ve been all this while. He’s the man people call the ‘Mad Hatter’ in hushed tones, one of the most unhinged members of the Nightshades.

Although, not the cruelest.

That title belongs squarely to fucking Rafael.

I met Maximo the other day, but I didn’t get a real read on his personality—I was too preoccupied with Michael during the ceremony, then too busy drowning myself in alcohol afterwards. Not my finest moment.

I sigh, pulling my hair up into a ponytail just as my bedroom door swings open.

Michael strolls in like he owns the room—which, technically, he does—but still. I frown at him. “You can’t just walk in without knocking. What if I was indecent?”

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