Chapter 2
ALEX
On the plane ride to Connecticut, we ate like kings and queens. Aiden devoured two massive steaks, three potatoes, and four lobster tails. It was his first time eating rich people’s food, and he feared it would disappear.
My stomach hurt from being so malnourished. So, I took my time and chewed slowly, afraid I might vomit. The aircraft continued to shake at thirty thousand feet above the ground. I was also too on edge to enjoy my meal.
“Tell us the truth,” Aiden said after he burped, rubbing a hand over his full belly. “Why did you adopt us? And don’t lie, old man, because I’ll know.”
Aiden was a human lie detector. He had a sixth sense and could easily read people.
Our grandfather guided us to a leather couch and said, “In my world, people marry for money and power, not love.”
“You want Alex to get married?” Aiden frowned. “Seriously? She’s never even had a boyfriend.”
“A long time ago, I made a deal,” Pops said, sitting across from us, a somber expression crossing his face.
“I agreed to marry my daughter to a man named Arlo Salvatore. However, your mother, the disappointment she is, ran off with your father. It caused a rift between the Wellingtons and the Salvatores. So, I disowned your mother and banished her from Devil’s Creek. ”
“Gross,” Aiden bit out. “My sister isn’t marrying some old dude.”
Pops chuckled. “Oh, no. I don’t want Alex to marry Arlo. He was married once and is now a widower with four sons. In your bedroom, Alex, I noticed you have Evangeline Franco paintings.”
“I painted those,” I said with pride. “I’ve been emulating Evangeline for years. She inspired a lot of my work.”
“You have a natural gift.” Pops grinned, fisting a glass of scotch. “Would you like to marry one of Evangeline Franco’s sons?”
Shocked by his proposal, I stared and blinked a few times. “Evangeline died in a car accident. I didn’t know she had any children.”
“She had two sons with Arlo Salvatore, Marcello and Luca. Arlo also has two adopted sons, Damian and Bastian.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Why would they want to marry me? I’m a nobody.”
“That’s not true. You are a Wellington.”
Aiden shifted nervously beside me. “Alex is too young. I don’t like this at all. I knew this was too good to be true.”
I gripped his hand. “Aid, please. Stop.”
I wanted to say, Shut up before he sends us back.
“Alex,” my grandfather said, “you don’t have to decide now. Arlo had originally suggested you marry Luca because he’s the oldest. But I demanded you have the choice since it’s one you will have to live with for the rest of your life.”
“Um.” I played with the fraying seam of my shirt and bit my lip. “Do I at least get to meet them first?”
“Yes, we are going to the Salvatore Estate next Saturday. The boys also attend Astor Prep, where you will finish your senior year with them. You have plenty of time. I’m not rushing you. But you must marry one of them.”
“Knew it,” Aiden muttered, angry with himself for trusting an adult.
But I didn’t care.
Marrying into a rich and powerful family sounded more like a dream than a nightmare. At least, I thought so before I met the Princes of Devil’s Creek.
* * *
As we drove through the tall iron gates that loomed over the estate, I gasped, gripping Aiden’s fingers. He squeezed back but said nothing.
Only in a movie had I ever seen something so stunning. Wellington Manor wasn’t a home. It was a compound on the water. We drove down a wide, paved road lined with red maple trees. The limo stopped in the circular driveway of a three-story mansion with more windows than I could count.
My parents were so poor that they couldn’t afford a car. We didn’t even have a driveway at my last house. Our place in Haven was a tiny piece of shit, only one step up from the trailer park down the road.
“Home sweet home,” Pops said as the door opened for us. “Your lives are about to change drastically.”
I slid across the bench and hopped out with Aiden in tow. An older man, probably somewhere in his late sixties, approached us dressed in a tuxedo. He even wore white gloves.
“Fancy fuckers,” Aiden mumbled, slinging a beat-up backpack over his shoulder.
The man stopped before us and bowed as if we were royalty. “Welcome home, Miss Alexandrea.” He looked at my brother. “Master Aiden. I’m Charles, the house manager. You only need to ask me whatever you require, and I will fetch it for you.”
I couldn’t contain my smile. “Nice to meet you, Charles.”
I was so excited that I hugged him. He tensed at first, clearly not accustomed to affection from my grandfather, but then he embraced me back.
“You’ve had a long day. How about I get you inside and show you around the house?”
“I would love that.”
Charles dipped his head to Pops. “Welcome home, Carl.”
Aiden hung back with Pops, and I darted inside with Charles, clinging to his hip.
I didn’t want to miss a thing, taking in every room and piece of art, especially the paintings.
There were five sitting rooms on the first floor alone, two dens, a living room larger than my entire house, and two kitchens.
Charles explained that one kitchen was for the live-in chefs and the other for the family. I was in awe, shaking my head in disbelief at everything he pointed out.
“And this is your bedroom, Miss Alexandrea,” Charles said, steering me into a room with a high ceiling, a four-poster bed, and grand furniture.
With a running start, I flopped onto the bed, unable to contain my excitement. The mattress was at least four times the size of my old, lumpy one, and it was soft, like sleeping on a cloud.
Charles laughed. “I take it you approve of the bed.”
I rolled onto my back and sighed. “I love it. I never want to leave.”
“You don’t have to,” Charles said. “This is your home now. You’re a Wellington.”
Tears pricked my eyes as I thought about what that meant.
I was a Wellington.
All my life, I was told white trash like me would never amount to anything. That I wasn’t good enough.
“Your etiquette coaches will arrive tomorrow morning.” Charles stood by the bed, arms behind his back. “So expect to rise bright and early for your first lesson.”
I sat up. “Why do I need etiquette coaches?”
“Your grandfather thought it was best for you to learn how to become a lady. If you’d had the traditional Wellington upbringing, you would have learned proper etiquette… and, shall we say, how to attract a husband.”
“Oh,” I mouthed. “So, this has to do with those guys my grandfather mentioned?”
“The Salvatore brothers, yes.”
“But I know how to act,” I said in defense. “I’m poor, not stupid.”
“Oh, of course not,” Charles stammered. “Your grandfather thought it was best for you to learn certain social graces your parents wouldn’t have taught you.”
Pops appeared in the entryway with Aiden. He patted Charles on the back. “I’ll take it from here.”
Charles grinned, closing the door as he left.
Aiden plopped on the bed beside me, our grandfather taking the armchair in the corner.
“There are a few things you should know about the Salvatore brothers,” Pops said, giving me a cautious look. “All four of them have been through an immense amount of trauma. You might find that you have more in common with them than not. But I must warn you about them.”
Aiden glared at him but kept his thoughts to himself. My brother acted first and asked questions later.
“Luca is the oldest and the meanest,” Pops said, leaning back in the chair. “He turned nineteen in July, a few months ahead of Damian and Bastian. But mentally, he’s much older. Luca is gifted, but even as a child, he was not right. His mother worried about his mental state.”
“So, he’s nuts?” Aiden frowned. “Awesome. Sounds like a great pick for my sister.”
Pops shook his head. “Luca has the means and intelligence to give Alex an enjoyable life. He has an IQ of 165 and is highly skilled at manipulating people. With that said, he has a few screws loose. Evangeline was a dear friend of mine. We were very close, and she confided in me. She was the only person who kept Luca grounded. And when she died—”
“What did he do?” I muttered.
“Luca tried to kill Marcello.”
“Oh.” I let out a deep breath. “So, stay away from Luca? Got it.”
Pops took a sip from his tumbler. “Marcello is the youngest and the quarterback of Astor Prep’s football team, but not book smart like Luca. His grades are average. Never took well to school, not even with tutors.”
“Alex’s choices are the dumb jock or the smart psychopath?” Aiden let out a maniacal laugh. “Can’t wait to hear about the rest of them. They sound like winners.”
“Aiden,” Pops hissed. “Please let me finish. It’s rude to interrupt people when they are speaking. You will attend the etiquette class with Alex tomorrow. Maybe the coaches will help you find your manners.”
This was the first time he’d raised his tone, and it scared me because the sudden change in attitude reminded me of my mother. But anywhere was better than home.
“Sorry,” Aiden muttered when I pinched his arm. “I’ll shut my trap. Go ahead, Pops.”
My grandfather had to think briefly before saying, “Ah, yes, I was telling you about the other two Salvatore brothers. Arlo adopted Bastian and Damian ten years ago. Their parents owned Atlantic Airlines and died in a plane crash. Very tragic. Quite ironic. They were billionaire orphans with nowhere to go, so Arlo brought them home.”
My chest ached at the thought of their lives blowing up in a puff of smoke.
“Bastian,” my grandfather said, “is a piano prodigy. A very gifted boy. He played his first concert when he was two years old.”
“What?” I choked out. “Two?”
He nodded. “He’s a prodigy. Like Luca, he possesses a very high IQ and excels academically. Harvard University has granted both of them early admission.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
At least my future husband wouldn’t be a jackass. However, he made Marcello sound like a dumb jock. But at my last school, the jocks were the hottest guys, so there was that.
Entranced by this story, I bent forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. “What about Damian?”
I was hoping he had saved the best for last.
“Damian is different.” Pops downed the dregs of his glass. “He’s very handsome and could easily be a model. But he doesn’t seem to like the attention of women.”
“So, he’s gay?”
“Alex is not marrying a gay man,” my twin said without thinking, speaking out of turn. When our grandfather glared at Aiden, he recovered by saying, “I mean… Sorry, Pops.”
“No, he’s not gay. However, he has an unusual relationship with Bastian.
Arlo has mentioned how close they are in passing.
Either he doesn’t know the true extent, or he doesn’t want to disclose it.
Or perhaps he wants to ensure you will choose Marcello or Luca.
” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I have seen it for myself.
The boys are unusually close. You would need the jaws of life to separate them. ”
“I’m like that with Aiden,” I confessed. “I have nightmares… and when I can’t get back to sleep, Aiden calms me down. We’ve never been apart.”
“That’s not uncommon for twins. However, Damian and Bastian have different parents. Even before their parents died, they were inseparable, which was why Arlo had to adopt both of them. Bastian had many relatives who offered to take him… but none wanted Damian. He was always an unusual kid.”
“Unusual, how?” I asked, not sure if I should fear Damian.
If I chose Bastian or Damian, how would I get one without the other if they were so inseparable? It sounded pretty strange, but I understood the need to hold on to a loved one. Aiden was my rock. Without him, my world would have crumbled.
“He doesn’t speak that often,” Pops told me. “I was one of Damian’s physicians after Arlo adopted him. He has selective mutism. It’s an anxiety disorder that prevents a person from speaking in social situations. He also has complex PTSD, night terrors, and a slew of other diagnoses.”
I already felt like Damian was my kindred spirit. I wondered what he looked like and how his voice would sound if I were to hear it.
We had so much in common.
I had night terrors, complex PTSD, and anxiety, and there had been seven months when I hadn’t spoken a single word. It was one week after my mother locked me in the closet for the first time.
My school therapist treated me weekly for free. Dr. Tanya insisted I try painting as an outlet for the ongoing stress.
“Damian can speak,” Pops continued, “but I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Alex. He may never communicate with you.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
Aiden narrowed his eyes at me.
Pops looked crestfallen.
I wanted to be the one to reach Damian and break his silence.