Page 88 of Devil's Tulip

She just waves it off like it’s nothing. “You can start the pills in the morning—give the plan B a chance to work. But you’ll need to abstain from unprotected sex for the next forty-eight hours so the drug has time to kick into your system.”

“Alright,” I murmur, closing my fist around the packet. How the hell am I going to fight Michael off for forty-eight hours? He can be a determined bastard when he wants to be.

Elira sighs, like she can read my thoughts. Then she says, “I’d love to spend some more time with you, just us girls, but it’s getting late. How about a brunch date later? I understand you can’t really go anywhere for now, but I don’t mind coming here.”

“I would love that so much,” I say enthusiastically as we leave my bedroom.

“Perfect.” She hugs me one last time before I walk with her to the door. As she gets into her car, I watch with a soft, affectionate smile and wave her off.

Then, as soon as she’s gone, I hurry back to my bedroom and slide the pills under my mattress. I don’t want Michael to find out about them yet. I’m not sure how he’d react, and I’m not in the mood for another argument tonight.

It’s already going to be a hassle trying to figure a way out how to avoid sex for the next two nights. And speaking of—where the hell is he? How could he just abandon the house because I told him to get out?

I roll my eyes as I leave my room to go tell Gracie that Elira couldn't stay for dessert after all. We’ll keep it in the freezer for tomorrow night.

I’m halfway to the kitchen when the Synthia alarm goes off again.

I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. Then I rush to the panel just in time to see Michael’s car driving into the compound.

Fuck, there’s no way he didn’t pass Elira’s car on the way here.

I can only hope he didn’t recognize it.

Because if he did, I’m in for one hell of an interrogation when he walks through that door.

25

MICHAEL

As we turn onto the street that leads home, a black SUV speeds past my car. My brows pull together as I watch it go. “That looks familiar. Have you seen it before?” I ask Marco.

He shakes his head slowly. “Not that I recall.”

It went by so fast, I couldn’t even check its plate number. Was it coming from my house? Mine is the only property at the end of this lane—a fact that suddenly feels significant.

We take the turn towards home, and as my car approaches the gate, it swings open automatically, the system recognizing my vehicle and Marco’s face behind the wheel.

My gut tightens. I resist the primal urge to grab my phone and check the cameras. There’s only one reason someone would come to my place this late when I’m not home—to visit my wife.

And if that’s the case, I’d rather hear it from her directly. A convenient excuse to speak to her after what happened earlier.

To my surprise, she’s waiting right on the steps as my car pulls to a halt in front of the house, her body language screaming anxiety despite her attempt to mask it.

I don’t bother waiting for Marco to get my door. I open it myself and step out quickly, making my way towards her.

She knew I was coming, obviously—Synthia would’ve alerted her. But why is she waiting for me out here?

“What is this? A welcome home party?” I ask half-teasing, half–serious. Is she no longer mad at me then?

Her arms cross over her chest, her chin tilting up. “Where the hell have you been?” She’s trying to go on the offensive but her eyes betray her, shifting to the side, refusing to hold my gaze as she speaks.

Ah. She’s hiding something from me.

Interesting.

“Something urgent came up at work that I had to see to,” I answer, carefully studying her. “Why are you all dressed up? Did you have a guest?”

She blinks—too fast. “Yeah, one of our dinner guests forgot their stuff and came back to pick it up.” Another blink.

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