Chapter 39
LUCA
I ran down the main hallway beside Marcello, and we bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. As we raced toward Alex’s bedroom, she screamed for help, and a chill spread down my arms like spiders crawling over me.
Mind racing a mile a minute, I thought of all the horrible shit my enemies would do to Alex. My heart pounded because I knew what I would do. They would torture and kill her if they got their hands on her. After promising Carl his precious granddaughter was in good hands, I had already fucked up.
It should have occurred to me sooner that Alex was the target. The Albanians owed The Devil’s Knights a lot of money. We took the wife of their leader as collateral, and I knew they would retaliate.
Damian and Bastian appeared at the top of the back stairwell, but we were closer to Alex’s bedroom.
Roman wasn’t standing guard. None of my men were anywhere in sight.
The walnut floor shone from a distance with a thick substance, and as I stopped in front of Alex’s bedroom, I realized it was blood.
I stood in the doorway with Marcello and stared in horror. Roman was on his knees, clutching his side. He hissed in pain as blood seeped from his wound and onto the floor. A skinny man with dark sleeves of tattoos pointed a gun at Roman’s head.
Directly in front of me, a muscular man held Alex with a blade to her throat. One wrong move, and he would fillet her like a fish. Another man stood behind them with his gun aimed at the back of Alex’s head. They dressed in dark blue camouflage, half of their faces obscured by black bandanas.
“Marcello,” Alex cried, tears spilling down her cheeks as she stared at my brother. “Marcello, shoot him.”
Not me.
My brother.
What the fuck?
She thought he could protect her better than I could. Maybe he could. He was better trained and more skilled with weapons. It was my fault they had grown closer in my absence. I allowed my responsibilities to The Devil’s Knights to cloud my judgment. Let it put even more distance between us.
Marcello’s jaw ticked. “It’s okay, Alex.”
Alex whimpered, her chest heaving with panic.
I held out my hand. “Hey, baby. Look at me. Okay, can you do that?”
Her eyes found mine, and she swallowed hard.
“You’re not worth anything to them if you’re dead,” I told her.
“Don’t fucking move,” the dark-haired man said with a thick accent. “Because I will kill her.”
No, you won’t.
He didn’t have the authority to kill Alex. His boss would want the pleasure of torturing information out of her. The Queen was the most powerful piece in chess for a reason. Only an idiot would sacrifice her without a plan.
Know your enemy.
All criminals were similar. We had a sick desire for blood and destruction. And we did this shit for money and power. Capturing the Queen of the Knights would give them temporary power over us, but killing her would fuck up his boss’s plans.
Reaching for my gun, I walked into the room, glaring at the asshole in front of me. He thought he could use Alex against me. But I was always ten steps ahead of my opponents. Like any good chess player, I was a master strategist.
Roman’s gun was across the room by the bathroom door. There was a trail of blood that led straight to his limp body. He was tough, one of Marcello’s best men. But how the fuck did they beat us to Alex’s bedroom? We would have seen them, especially with us covering the front and back stairwells.
How would you do it?
Think, Luca, think.
My eyes swept over the room again, attempting to piece it together. Rumpled bedsheets were strewn across the floor with broken vases and decor. From the looks of it, Alex tried to hit her attackers with whatever she could find.
After she’d smashed all the valuables in her bedroom in a rage, I hesitated to replace them. But I caved because I wanted her to have pretty things. I wanted her to feel at home.
I raised my gun, Marcello at my side, aiming at the piece of shit’s head. Damian and Bastian were behind us. We had to be smart about this. One slip of his hand and he would hit Alex’s carotid artery. She would bleed out on the floor within seconds.
“Take one more step, and your queen will die,” he warned.
I didn’t recognize the man. But based on his accent, I assumed he worked for the Kurti crime family. Another goon they sent to do their bidding. When would the Kurtis realize they had to show their faces before I would reveal my hand? I wasn’t about to waste my best moves on their backup squad.
“Let her go,” I ordered. “This has nothing to do with her.”
“Your queen is fair compensation for Mrs. Kurti,” he said in broken English.
“Your boss owes us a lot of money. He knew the cost of doing business with us. Now, let the girl go. She’s innocent. Killing her won’t solve your problem. It will make new ones.”
He inched backward toward the open balcony doors, with the blade digging into Alex’s flesh. A whimper slipped from her lips. Terrified, she looked to me for help, a plea in her watery eyes.
“Drop your guns on the floor,” the man growled.
Alex squealed as he sliced into her skin. A droplet of blood slid down her pale neck. I wanted to shoot this motherfucker in the head, but I couldn’t take the risk. With his blade already cutting into her flesh, I had one move.
The man behind Alex kept a gun to her head. Another one pointed at us. I could dodge a bullet, but that blade… it was too close to her throat.
“Do it,” I told my brothers as I bent down to set my gun on the floor.
Marcello followed suit, his eyes on Kurti’s men. I could hear Bastian and Damian do the same behind us.
I carried two guns. One was still holstered to my chest. I also had my grandfather’s knife strapped to my ankle. After Alex had grabbed it from my back pocket and stabbed me, I decided it was time for a better hiding place.
“Get on your knees,” the man ordered.
I sank to one knee.
“Slide the guns to me.”
I pushed our guns to the center of the room. The life drained from Alex’s eyes as she stared at me. Her gaze shifted between Marcello and me, begging for help. She thought we had given up on her.
Not a chance .
We had sworn an oath to protect our queen. So had Bastian and Damian. They were not leaving my house with her.
“Kurti’s wife is alive,” I said to gain the leader’s attention.
Alex’s captor stared at me in disbelief. “No, she’s dead.”
“I have proof of life.”
He shook his head. “You sent her hand to Mr. Kurti.”
“It wasn’t hers,” I challenged.
“But,” he stammered. “Her wedding ring… it was on her finger.”
“Right ring. Wrong hand.” I rolled my shoulders with indifference. “It’s not my fault your boss can’t tell his wife apart from a stranger. If you hurt Alex, I will gut Kurti’s wife in front of him. Then I’ll kill the rest of his family and men and make him watch that, too.”
I had him right where I wanted him. That bit of uncertainty was all I needed. Even though he didn’t have orders to kill Alex, this changed the game.
He reached into his pocket and raised his cell phone to his ear.
We only needed one slip-up—a small window of opportunity to get her away from him.
Speaking in Albanian, he rambled words so fast I couldn’t make sense of them.
I watched his chest rise and fall and noted the doubt in his eyes.
He handed the phone to the man behind him, and they exchanged a few words.
His hand slipped on the knife, and as he lowered his guard, I drew my gun from the holster and shot his elbow.
It was enough to loosen his grip on Alex without hurting her.
He staggered backward, grabbing his arm as he howled in pain.
As I rushed across the room, Marcello shot the man beside Roman, and I hugged Alex around her middle, tackling her to the ground.
With my weight on her, I tried to shield her from the gunfire.
Her life was worth more than mine.
I would gladly die for my queen.
After my brothers fired the last bullet, I waited a few seconds and rolled off Alex. “You okay, baby?”
Out of breath, she nodded.
I helped her up from the floor and surveyed the destruction. The man who held Alex at knifepoint was on the floor on his back, gasping for air. Blood dripped from his mouth as he attempted to speak.
He looked up at me, eyes wide. “Is Mrs. Kurti alive?”
I tipped my head back and laughed. “Fuck no, that greedy bitch is dead.”
And now, Marcus Kurti would never know the truth about his wife. He would come for Alex, but we would be ready the next time.
“Call Wellington,” Damian yelled, hunched over in front of a body on the floor. “We need a fucking doctor. Now!”
I moved to the center of the room, Alex clinging to my side and stepping over bodies to get to my younger brother.
Marcello lay on his back beside Roman, his hand on his stomach.
He had one eye open, taking shallow breaths as he struggled to speak.
Blood stained his white Oxford, leaking onto his fingers.
My chest tightened as fear rushed over me.
“Marcello,” Alex cried, dropping to her knees beside him. “Keep your eyes open,” she said, wiping his dark hair off his forehead. “You’re not allowed to die on me.”
He stared at her, the life slowly draining from his eyes. She unbuttoned his shirt and studied the bullet wound. There was so much blood that it coated her pale skin.
Alex glanced at me and yelled, “Luca, go get help.”
We left Carl in my office with my dad, but he knew how to navigate the secret passages beneath my estate that led to Wellington Manor. Alex’s grandfather was a skilled surgeon. He didn’t become the CEO of Wellington Pharmaceuticals until after he retired.
I removed my phone from my pocket and dialed Carl, who answered on the second ring. I explained the situation, and he said, “I’m on my way. Assemble the mobile triage in the ballroom. Collect the Knights, get them to help you move Marcello, but be careful.”
“Is that Pops?” Alex wiggled her fingers for me to hand her the phone.
She raised it to her ear and choked out, “Pops, he doesn’t have much time.
He’s losing too much blood.” Wiping blood away with the bottom of her shirt, she appraised the wound.
“I think the bullet hit his liver…” She sobbed.
“You know what that means… Just tell me what to do.”
I ordered Bastian and Damian to ensure the medical staff made it onto the premises, and they ran out of the room without a word.
Then I wrote a group text message to the Knights, telling them to get upstairs with a stretcher.
After I got stabbed last year, we started taking precautions.
My father had spent millions to have a mobile triage unit.
Within minutes, we’d have medical staff on-site if they could get past the armed Albanians still firing shots outside.
I hovered over my brother and Alex, my eyes on her. “Stop touching him. Your grandfather said we have to be careful.”
“Just sit down and shut up.” She pointed at the bed. “Let me take care of Marcello until we can move him.”
Twice in one year . This girl would be the death of the Salvatore men.
I nodded, releasing a deep breath. “As you wish, my queen.”
She held my brother’s hand. “I’m here, Marcello.” Thick tears fell from her eyes. “Don’t leave me, okay? Help is on the way. Stay awake. Can you do that for me?”
A strange emotion tore through my chest again. It hurt watching her show love and affection to Marcello. Nine months ago, she’d tried to kill me and couldn’t have cared less.
Was she accepting her role as our queen? Or had her love for me shifted to Marcello?
As my brother’s eyes snapped shut and Alex screamed his name, I wondered what a better man would do.