Chapter 87
ALEX
I was thankful for the meal and wine, glad The Carver hadn’t drugged me.
He mostly spoke to his business associates in Italian while he studied me like a specimen under a microscope.
I understood Italian, thanks to my grandfather, who had insisted I learn the language.
It had come in handy over the past ten years with Luca.
From what I’d overheard, The Carver was an old friend of Arlo, someone he’d screwed over in the past. He wanted blood, but I wasn’t sure what Arlo had done to make him so angry. I could tell from the man’s rage that it cut deep.
This was personal.
After lunch, The Carver’s men left me in a private bedroom with a bathroom, where I waited for a few hours until they dragged me off the boat.
I didn’t see Rhiannon again. I was still in shock about Marcello and Rhiannon.
He’d never spoken about another woman, making it seem like he was a lone wolf with no interest in relationships.
His job often took him worldwide, so it made sense he wouldn’t want anything tying him to Devil’s Creek.
But they had history. It gave me some hope for Marcello. Maybe the love of a good woman would remove the sadness from his eyes. I could see those glimmers when we were together. And after I chose Luca over him, the traces of happiness I once noted had vanished. He was back to being Lonely Boy.
We arrived at a small island that could have been anywhere. There was nothing but ocean for miles in every direction. They anchored a few yachts and jet boats closer to the beach.
As we walked inland, a tall iron fence spanned the entire beach. A dozen security guards lined the perimeter, with several men standing at the entrance. They had machine guns strapped to their backs and handguns holstered beneath their suit jackets.
How the hell was Luca and the Knights going to find me here? They had more security than a military base and, by the looks of it, even more weapons. For all I knew, there were land mines buried beneath the sand.
The Carver rushed past us, muttering a few words to the guards, then blew through the gates without a glance. Was he the owner of the island? The men holding my arms led me through the gates into a massive courtyard with even more guards.
This place was like a fortress on the sea, much like the Salvatore Estate. In some ways, it reminded me of home. The salty scent of the ocean floated through the air like perfume. I loved that smell. It reminded me of Luca and Marcello, of all my Devils.
Luca and the Knights would come for me. There was no doubt in my mind they would save the day. But would they reach me in time? The Kurtis had put me through hell and tortured me with each cut and punch. At least they didn’t force themselves on me sexually. I was thankful for that.
But what about The Carver?
What kind of name is that?
He was in his fifties and attractive for his age. The Carver reminded me of Arlo in some ways. He was refined and polished, like he thought he was better than everyone. You could tell he had money, and judging by his boat and the island, he had tons of it.
He rushed through the courtyard with a purpose, dressed in white linen shorts, a button-down shirt, and boat shoes. His tanned skin popped against the clothing, making him seem even darker. Luca had naturally olive skin and would look just like him if he’d spent more time in the sun.
I missed Luca and Marcello. I missed the Knights. Sonny and his wisecracks and Drake and his killer dance moves. They had become my family over the past few months.
Over the last few days, I remembered more about my past with the Knights.
Simple things unrelated to our steamy night in the temple.
However, I wondered if my new trauma was playing tricks on me.
I couldn’t rely on my thoughts and memories without someone else verifying them.
Not after everything the Kurtis had put me through.
I would wake up from fever dreams on that dirty mattress in the dark room and wonder if they were real. Were my nightmares more lucid than ever? Or was it the drugs playing tricks on me?
We stepped into the foyer of a Tuscan-style mansion. The ceiling was high, the walls cream and decorated with fine art. This place was too homey to hold a secret online auction for criminals.
As we walked down a long, tiled hallway, I recognized some paintings on the walls. My fingers itched to be back in Evangeline’s studio, creating the final Many Faces of the Devil Series pieces. I had one painting left—The Devil I Love.
I’d waited years for Luca to confess his love for me.
And because of that, I could never complete the final painting.
I was about to add the finishing touches before my kidnapping.
With my show at Tate Modern around the corner and Evangeline Franco’s twentieth-anniversary showcase right after my wedding, I had work to do.
For a moment, I wondered if I would ever hold a paintbrush again.
My heart ached at the thought. I would rather be dead than live in someone else’s Hell.
I painted my Devil and his criminal underworld in my paintings because he consumed my thoughts and dreams. He was the man in every nightmare.
I was angry with Luca for hiding my brother from me, but I assumed there had to be a reason for his secrecy.
Even after he’d confessed his feelings, he wouldn’t tell me the truth about Aiden.
He had every opportunity to come clean with me.
I wanted to believe they lied to me for a reason, that it was for the greater good.
Luca did nothing without a purpose. And Aiden wouldn’t have run away for the hell of it. He would never leave me behind.
The men forced me upstairs, with one in front of me and the other man grabbing my ass to push me up each step. I swatted at his hand and yelled for him to take his hands off me. When we reached the top of the landing, The Carver waited for us in the hallway.
“Take your hands off the merchandise,” he growled at the man.
“Sorry, sir.” He lowered his head. “It won’t happen again.”
“You wouldn’t touch the paintings on my walls,” he said coldly. “So why would you think you can touch the woman I own?”
“You don’t own me,” I shot back.
The Carver smiled. “Yes, I do. And I can see you were worth every penny of that thirty million.”
My jaw dropped. “You paid thirty million dollars for me?”
He nodded. “I would have paid more just to watch the Salvatores suffer.”
A shiver ran down my arms.
“Take Alexandrea to her room. Make sure she gets cleaned up before the auction begins. We can’t have the Devil’s Queen looking like a castaway.”
“Auction?” I choked out. “I thought you said you bought me.”
He grinned like the Joker. “I see your fiancé hasn’t explained how Il Circo works. You will soon enough.”
Then he spun on his heels, taking off down the hallway without another word.