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LUCA
I stoodat the circle’s center, surrounded by a dozen men in black cloaks. They bowed their hood-covered heads to show reverence for their new Grand Master.
Aiden Wellington kneeled, his shoulders squared. A long scar dipped beneath his blond hair that had grown back since the accident. I offered him a new life and penance for his sins, and in return, I welcomed him into our inner circle.
The only male heir to the Wellington fortune, it was his birthright to join the ranks of The Devil’s Knights. But Aiden fought his destiny every step of the way.
“Back in the mid-1800s, my great-great-grandfather, Luciano Salvatore, was a member of a secret society in Italy called the Carbonari,” I told the group. “They formed the organization to liberate Italy, but after they disbanded it, his son, Vincenzo, took a code of silence that bound him to the Calabrian family.”
When people claimed the Salvatores were Mafioso, they were correct. But I was never a made man, nor would I ever be. The American Salvatores operated by a different code, under a new set of rules set forth by my ancestors. We worked with the Mafiafamilies spread throughout the United States and Europe, but we were associates and nothing more.
“In the late 1920s,” I continued, “my grandfather, Angelo Salvatore, moved to the United States, working for one of the Five Families as a bootlegger. He saved his money to buy what we now know as Devil’s Creek. Then, he created The Devil’s Knights to join the most powerful families across North America and unite us as brothers.”
Aiden’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked up at me. A bead of sweat slid down his forehead and into his eyes. With his hands behind his back, he ignored it, undeterred after the months of hell I had put him through.
“It is a privilege and an honor to go from Apprentice to Master, from a Squire to a Knight.” I clutched Aiden’s chin, and his jaw tightened. “You have one more test. If you pass, you will become one of us. You can see your sister again.”
The pain in his blue eyes told me he was fighting his anger over being kept apart from Alex. My madness had a method that he would understand once he became a Knight.
The Devil’s Knights were more than a secret organization. We were a cabal comprising the wealthiest families in the country, all blue-blooded males who used their money and influence to control everything from political outcomes to environmental events.
Like our criminal counterparts, we were controlled, patient, pragmatic, and powerful. But we operated with the notion that men needed more than a simple code of silence to keep their mouths shut. And Aiden was one step closer to paying the ultimate price of membership.
33
ALEX
I sat on my bed,charcoal pencil in hand. Staring down at my sketchpad, I struggled to find inspiration.
Another week passed. Luca was still a no-show. Marcello was always by my side, a reminder of his brother’s absence, and I had grown tired of waiting for him.
I stared at the room’s corner, where I assumed there was a hidden camera. If Luca wanted to ignore me, I would make him come crawling back to me. Pops offered me an option between the Salvatore brothers. Maybe it was time to choose the one who was there for me.
I dropped my pencil and pad on the bed and glanced at Marcello. As his eyes found mine, my heart raced with excitement.
He looked so damn sexy dressed in a three-piece black suit with a red silk tie. The soft fabric clung to his muscular body like a tailor had sewn it onto him. His dark hair was messy, styled in a way that made it look like he didn’t care, but everything he did was intentional.
As I undressed him with my eyes, I imagined how his body would feel on top of mine. I licked my lips, studying his thickbiceps I wanted to grab onto as I rode his enormous cock. What I wouldn’t have given to see him strip.
Marcello leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “Are you okay, princess?”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered, even though I felt less than okay.
He tapped his fingers on his knee. Those pretty blue irises burned a hole through me. Under his careful inspection, my skin tingled as if it were on fire, spreading from my arms to my thighs.
I needed a release.
Just one orgasm.
Marcello slid the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, and my ovaries almost spontaneously combusted. Tiny bumps dotted my flesh. The room suddenly became too hot.
“You don’t look okay,” he challenged.
Ignoring Marcello, I leaned back against a stack of pillows. Heat shot down my legs and spread like wildfire.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Alex,” he said in that deep, sexy voice that slayed me.