Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
SONNY
Marcello was alive. That was the only thing I cared about at the moment. So when Luca muttered nasty things about Ella in my ear, I ignored him. Aiden gave him the finger and told him to fuck off.
“Your brother almost died,” I fired back at him. “Our relationship with Ella is the least important thing you should be worried about. And it’s also none of your fucking business.”
“Her family affects the Knights,” Luca said with venom in his tone, getting in my face. “And the Knights are my business. We’re going to discuss this later, Cormac.”
“Can’t wait,” I tossed back with an eye roll.
Luca stormed off to join Alex, Bastian, and Damian on the helipad at the Salvatore Estate. After the helicopter landed, Arlo Salvatore opened the door and extended his hand to Marcello. Arlo wasn’t caring or ever loving with his sons. This was about the closest I had ever seen to compassion from him.
Marcello looked shocked by the gesture but took his hand. He climbed down from the chopper, his face swollen and bruised, cut in various places. His once beautiful olive skin had a sallow glow to it. New bruises mixed with old ones, creating a rainbow of colors on his face.
Alex gasped. “Oh, my God.” She turned to look at Luca. “You didn’t tell me they hurt him.”
“What did you think they were doing in that cave, Drea?” Luca slung his arm across her back and squeezed her hip. “Talking?”
Was there ever a time Luca wasn’t a dick? I had no idea how Alex tolerated his bullshit. Of all the Salvatore brothers, he was the worst. Damian was slightly unhinged, but at least he treated Alex with respect in front of us.
I never once heard him speak to her the way Luca did. And he always got away with it. She accepted Luca was a piece of shit and would never change. Aiden hated him. He wanted her to marry Marcello, but instead, she chose Luca. The five of them had made a deal.
As Arlo hugged Marcello, I had to wait my turn. We’d been friends for so long that there wasn’t a time in my life I could recall not being his friend. I loved Marcello more than my younger brothers. He was the brother I wanted, and instead, I got Callum and Finn—two idiots who caused nothing but trouble.
Drake climbed out of the helicopter, his skin even more battered and bloodied than Marcello’s. Instead of his usual tan, a yellowish hue circled most of his features, the skin discolored from all the trauma. He could hardly walk and staggered out of the aircraft. He tipped to the side, and thankfully, Arlo was quick on his feet and wrapped an arm around him.
“Drake,” Olivia shouted. “Oh, God.” She stole him from Arlo and hugged him hard, sobbing on his chest. “Where’s Tate?”
Too worried about Marcello and Drake, no one thought to tell her. Besides, it was Drake’s place to deliver the bad news.
“He’s dead,” Drake bit out.
Olivia shook her head, her entire body trembling. “No.” She sobbed. “No, he’s not dead.”
Drake held her and cried on her shoulder. “They killed him,” he repeated several times. “I’m so sorry, Liv. It’s all my fault.”
Her blood-curdling screams sent a shiver down my spine. We all respected Tate. He was a good man and an ally to The Devil’s Knights. But we didn’t know him that well. Not the way Drake did.
“Stop it, Drake,” she whimpered. “Just tell me the truth.”
“I am, Liv.” He held her at arm’s length, tears spilling down his cheeks. “They air lifted his body to the morgue in Beacon Bay. We can see him… if you want. But I don’t think you should. He’s unrecognizable.”
Cole and Grace Marshall inched toward them but kept their distance. Grace was carrying their newborn son, Hale, who slept soundly with all the noise. Drake and Cole were cousins and very close. He would need all of us to get him through the worst time in his life, but he needed Cole and Olivia the most.
Clutching Ella’s shoulder, I steered her away from their sad, intense conversation and over to the Salvatores. Aiden followed on her right, the three of us a unit. This was our public declaration that Ella was ours, and there was nothing anyone could do or say to stop us.
Marcello was so weak that his dad had to help him stand. Alex hugged him briefly, realizing it was too much weight to press against his fragile body, and stepped back.
She traced her fingers down his arms. “Marcello, are you okay?”
He stared as if he didn’t recognize her.
“Marcello.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her round stomach, right over the baby bump. “Please, say something.”
Alex was eight months pregnant and ready to have Luca’s twin boys any day. Aiden was excited to be an uncle again. Last year, she had Sofia with Damian and almost immediately got pregnant. She practically glowed, her skin radiant and healthy. Pregnancy suited her, and I wondered how Ella would look carrying my child.
The idea was crazy.
But it could work.
As Marcello’s eyes dropped to her bump, he must have felt the twins kick. His hand moved, and then he seemed to snap back to reality.
He expelled a breath of air and said, “I’m not okay.”
She kissed his lips. “I’m here for you, Marcello. Whatever you need.”
He kissed her back. “I need you. Always.”
Since high school, Marcello had been in love with Alex. She was the one. He refused to let her go when his brothers tried to claim her. He said he just knew. And as I glanced down at Ella and over to Aiden, I felt the same conviction. Our relationship was unconventional and would stir up controversy with our families, but I didn’t care.
They were mine.
After Marcello greeted his brothers, I pulled him into my arms and hugged him for five minutes, refusing to let him go. He needed my help standing. His entire body shook from a tremor rocking through him.
“The Lucaya Group will pay for this,” I said, staring into his watery blue eyes. “I don’t care what I have to do. I’m in.”
“Drake hasn’t come to terms with this yet,” he said in a hushed tone. “But it must be done. We have to stop them.”
I patted his back. “We won’t stop until they’re all dead.”