Chapter 27
ALEX
I spread out on my bedroom floor, my fingers wrapped around a piece of vine charcoal. Making slow, sweeping movements, I drew the rough idea for my next piece.
I sketched a man with fierce eyes, horns sticking up from his thick, dark hair. Smoke and falling ash surrounded his head, making him look like he’d stepped out of Hell. He wore a fitted suit that outlined his muscles, jacket shoved to the side, revealing the guns strapped to his chest.
Luca Salvatore.
Prince of Hell.
Marcello strolled into my bedroom. I saw his shiny black dress shoes before I looked up at all six feet three inches of him. My mouth watered like I’d been stranded in the desert for months and needed a drink. His muscular body hugged a three-piece Brioni suit he wore like armor.
“You’ve been busy,” Marcello noted. “New painting?”
I sat up and handed him the pad. “I’m trying something new.”
He studied my work, and I saw a semblance of a smile. Those were rare in this house.
“It’s a rough draft,” I told him.
His eyes met mine. “This might be your best work.”
“You think so?”
He nodded and handed back the book. “You have a natural gift. My mom could see the flaws in every person and bring them out.”
Marcello hadn’t made my life hell or forced me to be with him. He cared about my feelings. Well, when he wasn’t drugging me or locking me in my bedroom at his brother’s request. Deep down, I knew he wanted me.
I had a choice between the two.
“Promise me you won’t run or do anything stupid that will force me to hunt you down.”
I stared into his sad blue eyes. “I promise.”
Marcello removed a cell phone from his suit pocket. “I programmed a few numbers for you.”
I slid my finger across the screen and scanned the Favorites. Luca was number one, of course. Marcello was number two on the list. Beneath his name was Pops, then Kali Marx. He knew better than to add my parents. They could go to fucking hell.
He rose from the floor and offered his hand. “We’re eating in the dining room in one hour. Change into something more appropriate.”
I lifted the strap over my right shoulder, a wicked smirk on my lips. “Do my paint-covered overalls offend you, sir ?”
A smile teased his lips. “Choose one of your new dresses.”
“Anything else, master?” I chuckled, loving the annoyed look he gave me. “You going to spank me if I don’t follow your orders?”
“You would like that too much.” He rushed into my walk-in closet and dropped a black dress onto my bed seconds later. “Luca wants you to wear this one. Get ready. I’ll be in the hallway waiting for you.”
Marcello walked out of my bedroom and closed the door behind him. Taking advantage of my alone time, I fished the phone out of my pocket and hit Kali’s number.
“Hey, girl.” She squealed on the third ring. “I was hoping I would hear from you. Are we still on for lunch this week?”
“Of course,” I muttered. “I can’t wait to get out of this house.”
“Ha! I bet. Is Luca treating you any better?”
I hesitated, wondering how much information I should offer a stranger. “Depends on your definition of better . That’s a relative term with Luca.”
“I feel ya, girl.” Her laughter assaulted my eardrum. “I’ll pick you up at work. We can talk more then.”
Knowing Luca, he was probably recording our phone call.
“Sure,” I agreed. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
“Yep. Later, girl.”
Marcello escorted me to the main dining room. The last time I stepped into this room, Aiden was at my side, dressed like an adult for once. He looked so handsome, like the heir to billions, even though he wanted none of our family’s wealth.
My chest ached from the memory… and the loss. I had to find him. Not knowing was the hardest part.
Arlo sat at the head of the table, Luca on his right. Bastian and Damian were next to Luca, leaving the left side for Marcello and me. I wore a black V-neck rosette dress that hugged my curves. The fabric stressed my breasts and ass, a slit running down my right thigh.
Luca couldn’t take his eyes off me.
Arlo extended his hand to the vacant chair at his side. “Sit here, Alexandrea.”
Marcello pushed my chair into the table, then took his place on my left. He didn’t utter a single word to anyone, his expressionless mask in place. Around his family, he was a trained soldier, a weapon forged for their deviant purposes.
Arlo tapped his serpent ring on the arm of his chair and studied me with fascination. “Tell me about yourself, Alexandrea.”
My stomach knotted as I recalled the last time he embarrassed Aiden. I wasn’t the same girl who ran out of the house in tears. This girl had teeth, and she was ready to fight.
“What do you want to know?”
He stared through me. “Your secrets.”
Don’t bother beating around the bush. Let’s get right to it.
I tipped my head back and chuckled. “I’m too boring to have secrets.”
“I doubt that. Everyone has something to hide.”
“Not me.” I drank my wine and hid behind the glass. “No secrets to share.”
None I want to tell you.
Arlo leaned back in his chair. “How is your art career going?”
Not this shit again .
After the dinner with Aiden, I never wanted a repeat of that night. I made a horrible decision by staying in Devil’s Creek. Aiden would still be here if I had listened to my head instead of my heart.
“Not well,” I admitted. “It seems all the galleries are filled up since my last exhibition.”
“That can be fixed if you play your part.”
Nerves coiled in my stomach, wrapping around me like a scorching hot blanket. Arlo always knew how to provoke me, something his sons learned from him.
“I was working with Madeline Laveau on a church restoration before Luca summoned me to Devil’s Creek. I left my mentor in the middle of a project. She understood that family comes first. But I don’t intend to give up my dreams so you can keep me locked in this house like a prisoner.”
Ballsy move, but I had to say it.
Arlo ran a hand across his jaw that could cut through steel. “You’re free to roam about as you please. No one is detaining you.”
Roam about? Did he think I was a fucking sheep?
“Good. Then, I’d like to drive myself because I’m getting sick of being chauffeured.”
Arlo’s eyes swept over to Marcello, then back to me. “If you wish to drive, yes.”
“Her doctor hasn’t cleared her to drive,” Luca cut in, and I wanted to slap him.
Arlo ignored his son and said, “You’re not a prisoner here. The security is for your protection.”
“From what? This place is like a fortress. I don’t need someone to shadow me inside your house or shop for me.”
The last part I directed at Luca.
Crazy control-freak .
“You’re the only granddaughter of one of the second wealthiest men in the world,” Arlo continued. “That makes you a target.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “I’m no one.”
“You are the only heir to the Wellington fortune,” Arlo pointed out.
Because your family made my brother vanish like fucking Houdini.
“You have more in common with my Eva than you think,” Arlo said, a somber expression spreading across his face. “She had a lot of fire. Passion. She also wanted a daughter. It was the only thing I couldn’t give her.”
Was he softening me up for the final blow? With Arlo, nothing was ever simple. Like his son, he was only friendly when he wanted something and was never this personal with me.
“Perhaps you will have a child with Luca.”
My mouth hung open.
“You are marrying my son.”
I held up my left hand. “I don’t see a ring on my finger.”
“It’s time for Luca to marry,” he insisted.
I shot a glance at Luca. “Luca doesn’t want a wife. He wants someone to control.”
Luca’s eyes burned a hole through me. “Don’t tell me what I want.”
“What’s the rush to put a ring on my finger?”
“Because it’s time for us to finalize this union,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m done playing games with you.”
I threw my hand over my heart, making a silly face. “Your declaration of love touches me.”
He tipped his head back and laughed like a lunatic, like loving someone was the silliest idea he’d ever heard. “Get real, Drea. We don’t marry for love.”
He wanted to get this wedding over, produce an heir, and wash his hands of me.
Our marriage was a business transaction made by rich pricks behind closed doors.
But I wanted love and respect, which I’d never gotten from Luca.
Rage stirred inside me like a potion brewing in a cauldron, my anger about to bubble over.
I tossed my napkin onto the table and shot up from my chair. “Thanks for the heartwarming proposal, but I think we’re done here.”
The legs of his chair scraped across the marble floor. “You think I’m letting you go? Nah, baby. You’re not going anywhere. Sit your pretty ass in that chair.”
“Apologize, or I’m walking out of here for good.”
“Sit,” Luca demanded.
I slid my hands to my hips. “Apologize.”
His dad smacked his arm, issuing a silent order.
He clenched his teeth, biting back whatever nasty comment he was about to make. “Sorry.”
“Alexandrea,” Arlo said. “We’re about to serve the steak. You don’t want to miss this cut of filet. I had it delivered for the special occasion.”
What was special about this nightmare?
“Alright.” I took my seat. “But I’m done discussing a marriage between Luca and me.”
Arlo shot a warning glance at Luca, and then his dark brown eyes were back on me. “You have my word. My son will be on his best behavior for the rest of the meal.”
“One more thing,” I said to Arlo because I knew it would piss off Luca. “My grandfather mentioned having a choice between Luca and Marcello.”
Arlo’s eyebrows rose in shock. “Carl said this?”
“Yes.”
Luca clenched his jaw so tightly it could have cracked under pressure. Everyone stared at me. It was so fucking awkward I wanted to hide under the table.
“I will speak with Carl about the matter,” Arlo said with a concerned look aimed at Luca.
Did my grandfather’s opinion hold more weight than I thought? No one corrected me, which made me wonder if the Wellingtons had power over them when I was led to believe it was the other way around.
My hands trembled, forcing me to hold them on my lap. He consoled me at night and helped me deal with the nightmares. But he would not show me the same kindness in front of his family. That version of Marcello was reserved for me.
“Evangeline’s twentieth-anniversary show is coming up,” I said to Arlo, hoping to break the tension in the room. “I want to add a new painting to this year’s collection. Something no one has ever seen before.”
Arlo rubbed the dark stubble along his jaw. The platinum serpent ring on his finger with onyx chips gleamed under the fluorescent lights. If I could find the Salvatores’ link to The Serpents, I could prove their guilt.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Have you been in Evangeline’s studio lately?”
Arlo sighed. “Not in a long time.”
“There’s a fresco on the ceiling.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with it.”
Biting down my fear of discussing what could be a sensitive subject, I said, “I’d like to recreate one element from the fresco, which would mean spending time alone in her studio.”
Luca shot daggers at me from across the table.
“Not a problem,” Arlo intoned.
I smiled. “Great. There’s just one thing. You’re in the piece. So are Luca and Marcello.”
“And you want my approval?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “You have it.”
“Dad,” Luca groaned. “You should see the piece first.”
“You don’t know what I want to recreate,” I pointed out.
“I know you, Drea. And what my mother left behind was personal.”
“Art is personal. Your mother understood that. She bared her soul to the world for the sake of her art.”
Arlo glanced at Marcello. “Do you care?”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“You don’t even know what she’s talking about.” Luca turned his hardened gaze on Marcello. “It will reveal truths about our family.”
Arlo raised his glass in front of his mouth. “How so?”
“It paints all of us, including Mom, in a bad light.”
“I would never disgrace your mother’s memory,” I assured him. “Come by my room later and see what I have planned.”
His jaw tightened.
“So it’s settled,” Arlo said as the dining room doors opened. “Alexandrea, you can paint in Eva’s studio as often as you wish. I want to see the painting before you submit it to the Franco Foundation board for approval.”
I had a long history with the Franco Foundation and knew everyone at Evangeline’s charity. They did fantastic work, spreading her art around the globe, all while helping young artists find their way. Arlo and his sons did an excellent job keeping her legacy intact.
Servers exited the kitchen, ending our conversation. They set plates on the table with filet mignon, baked potato, fresh asparagus, and a side of Bearnaise sauce. My mouth watered as I lifted my fork and knife from the table and cut into my steak.
No one spoke during dinner.
Luca’s phone rang. His father gave him a nasty scowl because he did not allow cell phones at his dinner table. He ignored the call, but the person was persistent.
Then Marcello’s cell phone beeped. One after the other, the Salvatores checked their messages.
“Motherfuckers,” Luca growled.
Marcello stilled beside me, eyes on the screen as he took a few deep breaths. He wasn’t the type to blow up, not like Luca. I could see why Marcello handled the security for Salvatore Global.
I attempted a glance at his phone, and he shoved it under the table, out of my view.
What the hell was up with them?
Scowling, Luca handed his phone to his father. The already shitty vibe in the room shifted to somber within minutes. We shoveled food in our mouths at record speed. Everyone refused dessert, a welcome relief because I could not wait to leave the table.
As I exited the dining room, Luca grabbed my shoulder. He pushed me up against the wall and cupped the side of my face. “Look, baby, I’m sorry about how I acted. I shouldn’t have said those things. I’m under a lot of pressure.”
Marcello tapped his shoulder. “Luca, we have to go. This can wait until later.”
Another guard, a dark-haired man named Roman, appeared beside Marcello. He was tall with dark hair and dressed in a black suit. A gnarly scar ran down his neck, dipping beneath his dress shirt. With his head down, Roman whispered something to Marcello.
“What’s going on?” I asked Luca.
He stroked my cheek. “Nothing you need to worry about. Go upstairs and paint in my mother’s studio.”
“Stop manipulating me, Luca.”
He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Do this for me, Drea. Please.”
“Be careful,” I whispered.
A cute dimple popped on his cheek. “Always.”
As Luca left the house, he stopped in the entryway and glanced at me. His blue eyes were intense and focused. I forced a smile, all while fighting my hatred for him. They left the house, armed and on a mission, and dread filled my belly.