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His voice was rough and scratchy from having tubes shoved down his throat for the past two weeks. Aiden barely survived, his life dangling by a thread. Even now, the doctors couldn’t guarantee he would survive. He had a long road ahead of him.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I clicked my tongue. “You can start with a thank you.”
“Not a chance,” he growled, shaking his head. His blond curls were long and messy, sweat-matted to his forehead.
“You should be dead.” I dropped into the chair beside his bed. “But since I’m a merciful man, you have a choice to make.”
He laughed, but it must have hurt because he winced, grabbing his side with his teeth clenched. “Merciful? That’s not a word in your vocabulary.”
I folded my hands on my lap and leaned forward, my voice lowered to a whisper. “You know what you have to do.”
His bloodshot blue eyes, the same ones as his sister, met mine. “I will.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighed. “I have to. For her.”
Alex.
He would have done anything for his twin, which made it easier for me to manipulate him. For years, Aiden walked right into my trap without even knowing it. His desire to join The Serpents was a weakness I exposed because Alex fought me every step of the way. And with her twin dead set on blocking my path to greatness, I had to move another chess piece into play.
I rose from the chair, taking a final glance in his direction. “I’ll come to collect when you’re back on your feet.”
Eyes closed, he nodded.
Defeat.
I grinned like a psychopath plotting his next killing spree. And just like that, Aiden Wellington sold his soul to the Devil.
I sat on my bed, charcoal pencil in hand. Staring down at my sketchpad, I struggled to find inspiration. Both my love and hatred for Luca had given me the motivation to paint my Devil’s series. The anger was always present. Desire, most definitely. No matter how much I hated him, I still wanted him, craved those brief moments with my Devil.
And the bastard left me hanging.
Another week had passed, and Luca was still a no-show. Marcello was always by my side, a reminder of his brother’s absence. I wasn’t sure why Luca brought me back to Devil’s Creek, but I’d grown tired of waiting for him.
I stared at the room’s corner, to where I assumed there was a hidden camera. If Luca wanted to ignore me, I would force his hand, make him come crawling back to me. Pops offered me an option between the Salvatore brothers, so maybe it was time to choose the one who made me feel safe. The one who was there for me.
I dropped my pencil on the pad with a sigh, glancing over at Marcello. His eyes found mine, and 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 against mine. I licked my lips, studying his thick biceps I wanted to grab onto as I rode his big cock. What I wouldn’t have given to see him strip again, like my first night in this house.
Marcello leaned forward. “Are you okay, princess?”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered, even though I felt less than okay.
Marcello tapped his long fingers on his knee, and those pretty blue irises burned a hole through me. My skin tingled as if it were on fire, spreading from my arms to my thighs.
I needed a release.
Just one orgasm.
And payback.
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 too hot.
“You don’t look okay,” he challenged.
Ignoring Marcello, I fanned myself with my hand and 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.
Fuck.
Me.
Please.
I closed my eyes and listened to him speak, letting his voice roll over me.
“Alex, open your eyes.”
He got up from the armchair and sat beside me on the bed. Clean linen and the saltiness of the sea invaded my senses. I drank him in, imaging him spreading my thighs open, his fingers satisfying the ache in my core.
“Do you need me to call a doctor?”
I shook my head.
“Alex, what’s wrong?” Marcello placed his hand on my thigh, and my skin ignited from his touch. “Open your eyes.”
Tremors shook through me as his rough fingers brushed my inner thigh. I opened my eyes, and my pulse raced when I looked at him. So beautiful and sad. Lonely Boy. I took control and inched his hand up my leg, begging him to keep going.
