Chapter 40
ALEX
I made a deal with the Devil. And not with the handsome one standing beside me, watching his brother’s life dangle from a string.
No, I prayed to the evil lurking within the halls, the monster that lived inside all of us.
I’d never believed in a higher power, but I would have gladly sold my soul to the Devil.
Anything to keep Marcello alive.
We’d become close over the past few weeks. The thought of losing another person sliced into my chest, gripping my heart so fiercely that I begged for the pain to stop. I couldn’t handle another death, another loss. Not after what I’d been through in the last year.
I leaned against the wall in the ballroom, thick tears streaming down my cheeks.
My legs shook so badly that Luca tried to hold me up, but I pushed him away.
He’d done everything in his power to save me from his enemies.
The Devil protected me from the demons at our doorstep.
But when I was this upset, I craved silence and isolation.
Marcello gave me those moments. Let me steal as many as I needed to find comfort.
Marcello has to live .
After the medical response team lifted Marcello onto a stretcher, we followed them downstairs.
The Devil’s Knights were already in the ballroom, helping a group of nurses and doctors assemble a mobile operating room.
Within minutes, they transformed the elaborate room into a hospital ward.
A plastic curtain hung from poles and stretched around the operating table, creating a clean environment.
Well, clean enough, given the situation.
They moved Marcello to an operating table surrounded by beeping monitors and medical equipment.
A nurse ran lines to his arms and placed monitors on his chest. Dressed in scrubs, my grandfather stood beside the table, his hand outstretched as a man handed him a scalpel, and then he went to work.
The monitors buzzed so loudly that my head pounded.
My mind couldn’t process the events of the last hour.
A gunshot to the liver gave him about a thirty percent chance of survival, but Marcello was in good hands with Pops.
Before his retirement, my grandfather was one of the top surgeons in the country.
He’d even perfected a surgical method that won him awards and earned him lots of praise.
But even with his skills, the mortality rate was high.
I can’t lose him .
Leaning forward, I cupped my knees with my hands and breathed deeply. In and out, I tried to steady my nerves. My heart raced so fast I thought it would break through my chest.
Luca cupped my shoulder and whispered, “Calm down.”
“That’s the last thing you say to someone when they have a panic attack,” I shot back.
He tried to hug me, and I knocked his hand away. Luca had never been there for me when I needed him. He was usually the reason for my pain and suffering.
“Drea,” he groaned with a pissed-off expression scrolling across his tired face. “What the fuck is your problem? I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t want or need your help, Luca.” I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose. Sweat slid down my forehead, dripping onto my eyelids, forcing me to blink a few times to clear my vision. “I have to work through this on my own.”
“If I were Marcello, you’d let me touch you,” he said.
He was right.
I would have flung myself into Marcello’s arms and allowed him to stroke his fingers through my hair.
When I was with Marcello, I truly felt at peace.
We had a special connection I’d only felt with my twin.
Sure, I had an attachment to Luca, but we formed our bond out of hate, not love.
Our mutual and shared traumas tied us together.
My emotions were so out of whack, I needed someone to blame, someone to hate.
Luca was the perfect scapegoat. He’d caused the worst moments in my life, but there were a few times when he’d shown me so much pleasure and joy.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about either of the Salvatore brothers.
Torn between two Devils, a piece of my heart belonged to each of them.
Luca bent down, his mouth inches from my ear, the heat from his breath warming my skin. “Do you have feelings for Marcello?”
I glanced up at him, tears clouding my vision, and wiped them away. “Marcello might not live, and you’re worried about my feelings for him? Give me a break, Luca.”
He crossed his suit-clad arms over his chest and snarled at me. “I almost lost you today. My enemies won’t stop until they pry you from my dead hands. We’re at war, Drea, which means we need to be united.”
“I’m still here,” I pointed out. “Those men are dead and rotting upstairs and are no longer our concern. You should worry about Marcello’s life, not me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby girl.” His fingers slipped beneath my chin, tilting my head until our eyes met. “I always worry about you, even when we’re apart. You are my one constant. My number one priority.”
“Yeah, right?” I snorted. “When have you ever put me first?”
“Always,” he challenged with heat behind his words. “I may not be there physically, but I’m always watching you.”
“Because you’re a psychopath,” I snapped. “Not because you care about me.”
“You want a choice between us?” he grumbled. “Don’t you? If he lives…”
“Luca,” I groaned. “This is not the time for this conversation.”
“I need to know,” he challenged. “Help me understand why you care so much about my brother when you didn’t give a shit about me last year.”
He must have taken the stabbing a lot harder than he let on. I could see the hurt in his blue eyes, which looked like denim. His eyes changed colors with his moods. It was creepy but also beautiful.
“Luca,” Drake interrupted, raking a hand through his dark hair that looked like he’d yanked on the ends. “Alex is right. We could lose Marcello. If he dies, it won’t matter if Alex likes him.”
“Fuck you, Battle.”
He yelled loud enough to draw the attention of the local members of The Devil’s Knights.
A few guys I didn’t recognize lifted their heads, staring at us from across the room.
Damian and Bastian moved to Luca’s right side like planets orbiting the sun, while Sonny and Cole Marshall stood beside Drake.
Luca’s nostrils flared as he shoved Drake with all of his force. “Get the fuck out of my house! I don’t need your opinion.”
Drake stumbled backward, and Sonny was there to grab his arm.
Caught in the middle, I pushed my arms out to keep them apart. “You’re not fighting.”
“No one is fighting,” Sonny interjected as he moved to my side.
“And no one is leaving this house,” Drake said with his fiery gaze aimed at Luca.
“Agreed,” I added. “If you have a problem with Drake, you can go.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“Whatever you want to say,” I said to Luca. “Save it. We’re all upset about Marcello. You’re only making it worse.”
He studied my face momentarily, a nasty snarl gracing his full lips. Then he shook his head, storming off with Bastian and Damian in tow. They strolled across the open room toward their father.
I stayed with Sonny, Drake, and Cole, the oldest Marshall boys. He was a founder from an old-money military family that lived in a fortress beside the Battles.
“He’ll get over it.” Sonny slid his arm behind my back and pulled me into his chest. “He’s just jealous.”
“He’s never been jealous of Marcello a day in his life. It must be the stress getting to him.”
“No, you’re getting to him,” Drake said with certainty in his tone. “If you choose Marcello over Luca, it will get worse.”
“Marcello is fighting for his life right now,” I pointed out. “That’s all any of us should care about.”
Sonny tapped his fingers on my hipbone, and I melted into his warm embrace. “Marcello is indestructible,” he assured me. “That crazy motherfucker can’t die. Even the Devil himself couldn’t kill him.”
“I hope so,” I breathed.
“He’s right,” Cole offered, giving me an adorable smile that made the dimple on his cheek pop. “Marcello is like a real-life GI Joe. He can withstand just about anything.”
I laughed at his reference because I often considered Marcello my hero. Whenever I needed him, he was always there to save the day.
Drake extended his hand to me. “Let me help you take your mind off things.”
I smiled at his kind offer and slipped my fingers between his.
Drake hummed a tune as he led me to the center of the ballroom, far away from the beeping monitors and distress sounds.
He lifted me by my hips and set my bare feet on his dress shoes, just like when we danced at the Midsummer Night’s Dream party.
Still dressed in pajamas, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands moved to my hips. The hammering in my chest steadied to a semi-normal beat as he spun me around the floor, helping me block out all the painful shit. When the monitors beeped louder, he hummed a familiar tune.
I lay my head on Drake’s chest. He smelled like cloves mixed with something spicy, and I drank in his delicious scent.
Tears spilled from my eyes and onto his shirt.
Drake massaged my scalp with his long fingers.
He was so gentle and loving, unlike Luca.
How did the Knights know how to comfort me?
Each of them had a way of calming me down.
“I need him,” I choked out, tears streaming down my cheeks. “He can’t die. He promised me…”
“It’s okay.” Drake cradled the back of my head. “Just let it out.”
“Luca doesn’t get it,” I whispered.
“He’s under a lot of pressure. Luca has until his thirtieth birthday to become the Grand Master of The Devil’s Knights. And you haven’t accepted his proposal.”
“But,” I stammered. “I don’t get it… Nothing will change if we get married. It’s not like he wants me. He only cares about a stupid title, his power, and producing an heir.”
“Everything will change,” he promised. “You will be our queen. That means something in our world.”