Chapter 13
ALEX
Ten minutes later, Marcello pulled into the parking lot at my apartment building. I lived in a two-bedroom in Brooklyn that often smelled like the Chinese restaurant next door. But it beat living in Devil’s Creek.
I wasn’t ready to let go of Aiden, not when I had a feeling he was still alive. So, I rented the extra room and filled it with his belongings, hoping he would come back to me.
I hopped out of the SUV, my messenger bag slung over my shoulder like another appendage. You never know when you’ll need a sketchbook or charcoal.
We climbed the stairs to the third floor in silence. Marcello breathed on my neck as I jammed the key into the lock. He smelled of the bay and sandalwood, his body pressed into mine, heat radiating off him. I wanted to get back at Luca for being a dick. So, I rubbed my ass on his cock.
“Alex,” he groaned, a warning to his tone. “Stop it.”
I wiggled my ass. “Make me.”
He pushed me against the door, his lips dangerously close to my ear. “I know what you’re doing. It won’t work.”
I reached behind me to feel his erection. “I think it’s working just fine.”
Marcello stepped backward and out of my grasp. “No more games. Get a move on.”
I spun around and stared at his handsome face. Marcello was incredibly attractive, with an olive complexion and deep blue eyes that held so much sadness. The Salvatore brothers had the same dead look in their eyes. Years of pain and torture had forged them into weapons.
A bespoke Italian suit clung to his muscular body like armor. He looked expensive but dangerous, a man who made your brain scream run while your body wanted to say hello.
“Make it quick.” Marcello opened the door and moved me inside. “We have little time to get to the airport.”
I walked through the small living room and down a narrow hallway to my bedroom. “Is my grandfather in trouble?”
“Not if you come with me.”
“What did he do?”
Marcello tipped his head toward the stairs. “We have a flight to catch. Your grandfather can answer your questions when we get to Devil’s Creek.”
Pops was the reason I had the restoration gig with Madeline Laveau. He was the reason I had most of the things in my life. With Aiden’s whereabouts unknown, I only had Pops.
So I could not let him down.
Marcello’s eyes widened on the walls I painted for my brother. The mural spanned two walls. A mixture of reds, oranges, blacks, and whites swirled into a cityscape mirroring Devil’s Creek, except it was on fire and set in the underworld. All the devils were there, even Marcello.
He entered the walk-in closet and emerged with two Louis Vuitton suitcases and a matching leather satchel. “Pack your shit.”
I tugged on the hairband. Pieces of plaster fell to the floor like snow. “Do I have time to shower?”
“You have five minutes before I throw you over my shoulder and drag you out of this house. Do what you want with that time.”
I rolled my eyes. “So that’s a no.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You can take a shower on the plane.”
I turned my back to Marcello and stuffed the sketchbooks and charcoal on my drafting table into the satchel.
My art came first. It was the air I breathed and why I got out of bed in the morning.
If I weren’t coming home soon, I’d have to take everything I cared about, which didn’t leave much room for clothing or other personal effects.
I rolled a suitcase over to my desk and lifted paint tubes from the shelves.
“You can buy more art supplies,” Marcello growled. “Pack something useful.”
I spun around with paint tubes in one hand and a few brushes in the other. “I can buy more clothes. I can’t replace the memories I made with these brushes.”
The brushes I used to paint the Many Faces of the Devil Series meant something to me, but they also reminded me of Luca. He was the devil in all of them.
The Devil I Know.
The Devil I Hate.
The Devil I Love.
The Devil I Fear.
As Marcello silently drove through the streets, adrenaline shot through my veins. I could hardly sit still without wanting to open the door and jump from the SUV. We arrived at the airport twenty minutes later. Only a few people were in the private hangar at this hour.
After my last encounter with Luca ended in pain and tears, I promised never to return to Devil’s Creek and never to put myself at the mercy of the cruel prince.
But Pops needed my help.
Aiden could still be alive.
I had to go through with this.
Marcello opened my door, his jaw set hard as he looked down at me. “I’ll get your bags. Get on the plane.”