Chapter 31
ALEX
I woke with a jolt, once again in the arms of my fierce protector. Marcello shook my shoulder, staring down at me with piercing blue eyes.
I covered my mouth and yawned. “Did you stay with me?”
He shifted his weight, rocking me to the side as he leaned against the headboard. “Yes.”
I rolled my head onto his chest and looked up at him. “I don’t remember having any nightmares.”
“That’s because you didn’t have any.”
“You must be my lucky charm.” I curled up against him, and he hugged me. “You may need to sleep in my bed forever to keep the nightmares away.”
His callused fingers tapped my shoulder. “It’s time to get up, princess.”
I glanced out the windows, and the sun had yet to rise. Maybe this was a dream because no one in their right mind would get up this early without a cause.
“No, go back to sleep,” I told him. “It’s not even light outside.”
Marcello ran his long fingers up and down my back, and his gentle touch almost coaxed me back to sleep. “Open your eyes, beautiful. I want to show you something.”
“What time is it?”
“Five fifteen.”
“Gross,” I groaned. “Are you a masochist?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Now get your pretty ass out of this bed.”
Marcello slipped his fingers between mine, and sparks danced along my skin.
“What do you want to show me?” I asked.
“Someplace I think you’ll like.”
I gathered my wild curls and pulled the knots from them. “What’s so special about it?”
“It’s where my mom would paint when she got stuck and needed inspiration.”
“Say no more. I can’t wait.”
I ran into the bathroom and got ready for the day. My hair was wild, curls falling from the top knot. No matter what I tried, I could never tame my locks. Aiden had the same problem and cut it short or buzzed it off.
I missed my brother.
“C’mon, princess.” Marcello banged on the door. “We’re already running late.”
“Late for what?” I shot back.
“My schedule. Let’s go. Put some clothes on and stop messing around.”
“Okay, boss man. Keep your boxers on. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I moved into the attached walk-in closet, found black spandex shorts, and paired them with a matching tank top and running shoes.
Marcello hovered over me as I laced up my sneakers. “What’s taking so long?”
“Are you seriously that much of a control freak? You can’t wait until I tie my shoes?”
He bent down, crowding me with his big, muscular body. “Yes, I am a control freak. And no, I can’t wait. I hate when people mess with my routine.”
“I didn’t ask to be part of your schedule.”
“I’m doing this for you.”
He extended his hand and lifted me from the floor. Being this close to Marcello flipped a switch in my brain that set off dozens of signals in my body.
“I’m not waking up at five o’clock every morning.”
“Spend enough time around me, and you’ll get used to a little discipline.” A sly smile touched his lips. “You could use some.”
“Is that so? You think you know what’s best for me?”
He nodded and led me out of my bedroom. We hurried down the back stairwell, moving through the house until we reached the kitchen. Marcello stopped at the refrigerator and grabbed two water bottles.
He tipped his head toward the back of the house. “Let’s go. We only have until sunrise to make the trek.”
I followed him through the patio doors and onto the veranda with an incredible bay view.
“Only the Salvatores know about this place,” he said and veered toward the center of the property.
“So it’s a secret?”
“Yes. And don’t think about using this path on your own. It’s dangerous.”
Marcello steered me past the helipad and the Olympic-sized pool, yanking my hand as we passed the staff’s living quarters. Their backyard—if you could call it that—was the size of a city block. Men with guns lined the permitter, making it clear I would never leave this place.
We stopped in front of what looked like a shed. My eyebrows knitted together as he lifted a panel on the wall, revealing a digital scanner.
“I feel like I’m in an episode of The Sopranos ,” I joked. “Are you hiding illegal money in the backyard like Tony?”
Marcello held his right palm against a digital scanner until it flashed green to confirm his identity. Then, he opened the door for me and sealed it behind us.
On the inside, it didn’t look like much. Steel walls, a bunch of monitors, and a long desk covered in computer screens.
I moved toward the desk, staring in disbelief at the live video footage. “What is this place?”
“My office.”
I swallowed hard. “Do you watch me from here?”
He shrugged, unaffected by my question.
There was footage of all the founders’ mansions, including Wellington Manor. My lips parted in shock at the sight of at least twenty feeds, some of which were of my Brooklyn apartment.
A chill rolled down my spine like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on my head. “How long have you been watching me?”
“A long time,” he confessed.
“Why?”
I was afraid of the answer.
“Because we have a lot of enemies,” he admitted. “Some you have met over the years without even realizing it. You don’t want to know how many times we’ve come close to losing you.”
My hands trembled from the fear tearing through my limbs. “Why would anyone want to hurt me?”
“Because the future Queen of The Devil’s Knights holds a lot of power in our world.”
“Why me?”
“Your grandfather made a deal with our father to protect you. He would only agree to the marriage if he knew you were safe. Luca needs a queen. He can’t become the Grand Master without you. It’s our most sacred law. There are things I can’t tell you until you become one of us.”
“All of this…” My voice trailed off, bewildered by the secret spy shed and all the secrets they were hiding from me. “It’s a lot to take in right now.”
“You have time,” he assured me. “But we need to get moving before the sun rises.”
Marcello moved to the center of the room and dropped to his knees in front of a steel door built into the cement. He turned the wheel on top of the door, spinning it with a groan.
“Stand back,” he said.
The door crashed to the ground a few inches from my sneakers. I poked my head inside the hole, surprised to find a metal ladder attached to the wall.
“Who are you people? This is like something from a James Bond movie.”
Marcello chuckled. “My family is full of surprises.”
“I bet this house has tons of secret passages.”
He winked to confirm my assumption but offered no additional information. “After you.”
“No way! I don’t know what’s down there. There could be snakes or alligators. And I hate the dark.”
“Alex, it’s just stairs. Do you think I would take you down here if I thought you’d get hurt?” Marcello noticed my hesitation and jumped to his feet, brushing off his shorts and knees. “I’ll be a few rungs below you. If you fall, I will catch you.”
I glanced down at the ladder and cleared my throat. “Um… I don’t know about this. How deep does this tunnel go?”
He pointed his finger into the cave of wonders, and I couldn’t bring myself to look again, too freaked out about being buried alive in the dark.
“It’s only a twenty-foot drop.”
I rolled my eyes at his use of the word only .
“Shouldn’t take you long to hit the bottom.”
“And we have to do it in the dark?”
“It’s time to get over your fear.” He rubbed circles over my shoulder blade. “How about we start now?”
Marcello started down the ladder, forcing me to conquer my fear. A wave of anxiety surged through my veins, and I wiped my sweaty palms down the front of my shorts.
“You got this, Alex,” Marcello said from below.
I cautiously moved down the ladder, and Marcello scooped me into his arms.
“You did well, princess. See, it’s all in your head. You can do anything you want if you put your mind to it.”
Why can’t Luca be more like him?
Was Marcello using his charms and sex appeal to trick me? I never knew what to think. The Salvatores always had a plan, ten steps ahead of everyone.
I thought about kissing him, intoxicated by his delicious, manly scent.
My heart raced abnormally fast, thumping in my chest like a drum.
I clutched his thick bicep to steady myself, still shaky from my nerves and the climb.
He must have sensed my desire because he stepped back, his hands falling away from my body.
Marcello wanted me.
But he was loyal to Luca.
He sighed. “Let’s go.”
We walked through a dense passage that dumped us on the beach near Wellington Manor. I could see my grandfather’s estate looming above us from Founders Way.
“What was it like growing up here?”
Marcello twisted the cap off his water bottle. “It was like you’d expect.”
“Give me something, Marcello.”
He pointed at the massive boulder we were approaching. “This is Finnegan’s Rock. When I was in high school, everyone came here to get high and drunk.”
“What about you?”
“Yeah. Even me.” He gave me a sinister look. “I’m not the uptight asshole you think.”
I sipped from my water bottle and smiled. “Never said that.”
He reached over and tugged on a loose curl falling from my hairband. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“I know more about your mother than all of you combined.”
“My mom wasn’t like us.”
“Obviously. She was so full of life and carefree.”
“She wasn’t like that all the time,” he said in a hushed tone, his mood shifting as he spoke.
“Some months, she would fall into such a deep depression we couldn’t get her out of bed.
My father would beg her to get up. He tried everything to help her.
Nothing worked. We learned how to ride out the waves of her moods. ”
“I guess she was more like me than I thought.”
He bobbed his head. “You have no idea.”
“That’s why you’re so patient with me,” I assumed.
His blue eyes found mine. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
“And that’s why Luca pushes me away.”
“Luca acted out when she had manic episodes. He even stole my dad’s car, thinking he would get my mom’s attention.” Marcello laughed. “The shit Luca would do… He couldn’t process her illness. It was like the worse she got, the more he would push the limits of my father’s patience.”
“Did she have bipolar disorder?”
Marcello nodded.
“Did she need to be hospitalized?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Your grandfather was a huge help. He treated her privately and prescribed her medications under an alias so no one could link them back to her.”
“Why was her illness a secret? Plenty of artists struggle with mental health issues. I read an article that over seventy percent of all artists have a mental illness.”
“She wanted to maintain her legacy without people thinking she was crazy like van Gogh.”
I laughed. “She wouldn’t have cut her ear off.”
“Some days, I didn’t know if she was coming or going. She was unpredictable.” He glanced down at me, his expression unreadable. “Kinda like you. My dad says all the beautiful women worth chasing after are a little crazy. I think he’s right.”
Now, it all made sense. I’d always known I reminded Luca of his mother because of our artistic passions, but this was shocking.
“People with mental illnesses don’t like being called crazy.”
He smirked. “How about passionate?”
“I can live with that.”
Our fingers brushed as we walked, and I wanted to grab his hand so badly.
“When I’m with you, I feel sane.”
“How does Luca make you feel?”
I bit the inside of my cheek and considered his question. “Like my heart is about to explode. Like I can’t breathe, and he’s holding my head underwater.”
“My brother has that effect on most people. I guess you can say he’s passionate , too.”
We walked for another hour, occasionally exchanging words but not feeling pressured to fill the void.
I enjoyed being with Marcello.
He clutched my shoulders when we reached his special spot, turning me to face his estate. The sky was a faint blue, still dark in some places, but with a pinkish-orange glow dancing along the horizon.
“Beautiful,” I whispered.
Marcello rested his chin on my head. “I thought you might like this.”
I relaxed in his arms, consumed by the high this man provided me. For years, I thought he was just like Luca. But Marcello Salvatore was full of surprises. Sure, he had a darkness inside him. We all did. Beneath his chiseled exterior was much more than a man capable of violence and cruelty.
“Marcello, I need to know something.”
His body tensed as if he was anticipating this question.
“Is my brother alive?”
I felt him slowly slipping away from me physically and emotionally. What we had shared a moment ago almost seemed like a distant memory. His hands fell from my body, leaving me desperate for his touch.
“If you want answers, marry my brother. Swear the oath, become our queen, and then we will tell you everything.”