Chapter 3
DAMIAN
Sitting in the grass, with the perfect view of the bay, I sliced into the fish squirming in my hand. Its eyes widened, struggling to survive, desperate for another second of life. People made the same faces when they were about to die.
Life was such a precious thing, yet people abused their bodies and minds, inflicting the same poison on the world. I considered my kills a service I provided, a good deed to make the world a better place.
I heard footsteps behind me.
It was Bastian.
We’d been best friends since birth, and after our parents died in a plane crash, Arlo Salvatore adopted us. But not out of the kindness of his heart.
Bastian put his hand on my thigh, and I tried to ignore the tingling sensation that spread up my leg, hardening my cock.
I liked the way he made me feel.
Excited.
Turned on.
Scared.
Alive.
“You’re making a mess.” Bastian dug his fingers deeper into my skin. “Damian, what are you doing?”
Bastian was the only person besides our adoptive father who could snap me out of my bloodlust.
“I was bored.” I dropped the fish and the hunting knife on the ground and shrugged. “Just killing time before we meet Carl Wellington’s granddaughter.”
Bastian wiped the blood from my skin with the towel. “This has to stop. You promised to chill out with this shit. The urges are—”
“I’m okay. I didn’t feel the need to…” I shrugged. “You know.”
His gray eyes met mine, and I considered pressing my lips to his. He wouldn’t let me kiss him.
Not on the lips.
After he wiped my fingers, I grabbed his hand and sucked his finger into my mouth, licking it clean. His chest rose and fell faster, his eyes fixed on me.
He wanted more.
But Bastian’s internalized homophobia caused him to hate himself for having feelings for a man. His shitty grandfather, who abused both of us as children, brainwashed him to feel shame every time we touched.
We were not gay. I’d never looked at another man and felt attraction. Bastian was my exception, and I was his. My therapist called it a trauma bond.
“D,” he groaned and yanked his finger from my mouth, wiping his hand on the towel. “Tonight is a big deal. Keep your shit together. The Founders Society won’t accept our family without Alexandrea Wellington.”
Technically, we didn’t need to marry anyone. We were born into powerful, connected families and could gain admittance into any exclusive club in the country.
Bastian Kincaid.
Damian Townsend.
Our former last names guaranteed us a spot with The Founders Society. We were descendants of the Founding Fathers and could prove it. But the Salvatores were not from the United States and didn’t have the same lineage as us.
“I’ll be on my best behavior. I was just blowing off some steam.”
Bastian’s thumb traced his bottom lip, and my eyes followed the simple movement.
I licked my lips.
He stared at mine.
“We can’t do that anymore,” he whispered.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed by me.”
“I’m not.” He slid his fingers through his dark caramel hair, brushing it off his forehead. “Fuck. It’s not like that. You know I love you.”
“As a friend,” I tossed back at him. “A brother?”
He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
I understood obsession.
But love?
Not so much.
I didn’t know how it felt to love someone. What I felt for Bastian went beyond love. I wanted to possess him, crawl so far beneath his skin that I became one with him.
He was like a drug to me.
An addiction.
After he let me get high on him once, I couldn’t stop.
I tugged at the grass, needing to keep my idle hands occupied—anything to stop myself from thinking about what I couldn’t have.
The waves crashed on the beach below us. And with at least a hundred-foot drop, I loved being inches from the cliff’s edge, knowing it could all end at any second.
I was not afraid of dying.
I only feared losing Bastian.
He was my reason for living on the worst days. When we were together, it gave me hope. And sometimes, that was all I had.
Hope for more.
Bastian knelt in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t mess this up for our family. Take a shower and get dressed. The Wellingtons will be here within the hour.”
“Only if you get in the shower with me,” I said to see how he would respond.
His eyes lowered briefly. “Come on, D. We talked about this.”
“You want me, too.” I gripped his chin, forcing him to look at me. “Stop denying it, Bash.”
“What we do in the dark can never see the light.”
He pushed himself up from the ground and extended his hand to me. I took his hand and rose to my full height. He didn’t step back, so I slipped my fingers between his and pulled him to me.
I stared into his eyes, my heart pounding, about to punch a hole through my chest. “Come upstairs with me. We can turn out the lights.”
He was still holding my hand, thinking about my request. We stood at the cliff’s edge for the longest minute before he spoke.
“I know you couldn’t care less about marrying Alexandrea Wellington. But she’s our future, Damian. Do you get what I’m saying?”
I nodded. “You’ll only be with me… if you can have her.”
Bastian tucked his bottom lip into his mouth and looked away, staring into the expanse of the bay.
If that were the case, I would need to make Alex fall in love with me. Most women looked at my face and said I was hot. Their attraction made them forget what was right in front of them.
I was a predator.
A hunter.
A killer.
I was not marriage material or worthy of someone’s love.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Luca shouted from the veranda, dressed in a black suit and appearing older than his age. “Are you holding hands? Jesus, fuck. You two are weird.”
Our adoptive brother walked toward us, and Bastian released his grip on my hand. He stood a few feet away, sickened by what had almost happened.
Again.
I rarely touched anyone but Bastian. When I was with women, I fucked them from behind.
Another person’s skin brushing mine repulsed me because I knew how it felt cold and lifeless.
Only Bastian could put his hands and mouth on any part of my body.
Instead of revulsion, I felt an intense desire for more.
“I was just helping Damian get cleaned up,” Bastian said, unable to hold Luca’s gaze.
“Uh-huh.” Luca rolled his eyes. “Sure you were.”
Luca knew our secret. He didn’t care as long as we kept fucking girls and went along with his plans.
Marcello joined us, wearing a suit, his usually messy black hair slicked off his forehead. Younger than Luca by eighteen months, he had the same jaw, Roman nose, and dark blue eyes. Where Luca was lean muscle, Marcello was built like a boxer.
“Wellington and his stupid fucking heirs will be here soon,” Luca hissed, his tone laced with venom. “I hate her already, and I’ve only seen pictures of her.”
Alexandrea Wellington was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. If you overlooked how malnourished she was in her pictures, she was a real knockout. She was so pretty and perfect, the kind of girl I wanted to taint just so she was dirty like me, dirty like us.
“If you have to marry her,” Bastian said, “at least Wellington’s granddaughter is hot. You don’t have to like her to fuck her.” He grabbed his dick over the front of his pants and groaned. “And she’s a virgin. So if you don’t want that tight pussy, I’m taking her cherry.”
Alex’s grandfather was giving her a choice between us. It would fuck over our family if she picked Bastian or me. Yet, I wanted to sabotage everything to have him… and Alex.
“I have a better idea,” Luca said with a mischievous grin. “I want the three of you to do everything I would have done to her.” His eyes flicked between us. “Torture her. Make her scream. While I watch.”
I killed people.
Luca hurt people.
Bastian saved them.
Marcello protected them.
Luca and I were the most fucked up, beyond deranged and not quite human anymore. Our souls were black and tainted by our past traumas and the sins we committed to help us heal.
While I felt something for Bastian, Luca felt nothing for anyone. Losing his mother left a gaping hole in this family and his black heart.
“Don’t mess with Alex,” Marcello said, always the peacekeeper of the group. “She’s had a shitty life. This isn’t her fault that she has to marry one of us.”
Luca hated Marcello despite saving him from our father’s wrath as kids. You would never know they were biological brothers if they didn’t look like twins, not when they acted like enemies.
“She’s had a shitty life?” Luca laughed, but it was sinister and laced with anger. “We’ve lost everything that fucking matters because of her family.”
“It’s not her fault,” Marcello insisted. “She might look like Savannah. But she’s not her mother, Luca.”
Until a few days ago, she was Alexandrea Fox. Now, Alex and her twin brother were the heirs to billions and pawns in a twisted game. The poor girl thought her grandfather had saved her from her shitty life.
But her freedom had a price.
Luca snarled at Marcello, getting in his face. “Her bitch mother killed ours. And she’s going to pay for it.”