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So when my father made the deal with Carl Wellington, I knew I would have to share Alex, even though I wanted to keep her to myself. The beautiful blonde was mine from the moment I laid eyes on her.

But it was too late.

Damian had already touched her, tasted her. Despite her fear, she liked him, but was smart enough to realize he was a predator.

“He keeps moving. Bash, I need your help.” Damian opened his palm and held out a clamp. “Get his right side for me.”

I didn’t want to be here.

In fact, I hated watching him turn into a monster. It was easier to forget about his issues when we were acting like normal men, getting high and fucking women. But when my brother veered off the deep end, I had to pull him back before he drowned.

I shook my head, disgusted by this method of torture, but I took the clamp from his hand. Why could I never tell him no? I could have walked away from him years ago. Yet, I could never find the strength to do it.

No one wanted Damian after The Lucaya Group murdered our parents. The newspapers called it an accident, but I knew the truth. Everyone wanted to break us up, and I wouldn’t let them. All of my parents’ friends and some of my degenerate family members offered to take me.

They all wanted the money. And none of them wanted Damian, which was a deal breaker. So when Arlo Salvatore showed up, we became a family for real. Arlo adopted both of us, gave us his name, and showed us how to adapt.

“This is the last time,” I said through gritted teeth, the clamp clutched in my hand.

Blood and violence consumed our world, but even I had my limits. I stared at the man on the table beneath me and blew out a deep breath. Then I pulled my attention back to Damian, who had gone to another place.

My brother was no longer in the room with me. Damian’s eyes turned a deep shade of green that appeared black in this light. He really was a fucking demon.

“You hear me, D,” I shouted, my anger shaking through me. “This is it. No more.”

A sly grin stretched the corners of his mouth as he leaned over the table. “Yeah, brother. This is the last time.”

An hour later, we left the building in silence, both of us covered in another man’s blood. I peeled out of the empty parking lot and drove through the streets of Beacon Bay. The small coastal town was only five minutes from Devil’s Creek, but the significant difference in wealth separated the haves from the have-nots.

I drove past the woods that led to the beach, serving as a divider between Devil’s Creek and Beacon Bay. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman with long blonde curls slapping her back, running in a dress and heels for her life. A man with dark hair chased after her.

“Fuck.”

I slammed on the brakes as Alex ran into the woods. We got out of the car, guns at our sides.

“Was that Alex?”

“Yeah, D.” I took off down the hiking trail beside Damian, hoping we would get to Alex in time. “And that’s one of Volkov’s men.”

Damian gripped a hunting knife in his hand, blood dripping down his wrist. He had an even more sadistic look on his face than my almost rapist. Bastian clutched the man’s shoulder and threw him onto ground as if he weighed nothing.

He was still alive.

My eyes widened at the sight of the Russian man gasping for air, his hand over the gash on his throat. Blood poured out from his mouth, trailing down his cheek. Damian studied him with a satisfied smile on his face.

He was proud of his work.

As the man slowly bled out, I held Damian’s gaze for a moment, and the dead look in his eyes terrified me. He just killed a man to save me.

And he liked it.

Bastian pulled me into his arms, stroking my cheek with his long fingers, hugging me so hard it helped to quell the tremors shaking through me. “Did he hurt you, Cherry?”

I was so in shock it took a few seconds before I could speak. “No. But he would have if you hadn’t shown up.” I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose before I could look at him again. “How did you find me?”

“We were on our way home and saw you running into the woods.”

Both Bastian and Damian had blood on their suits and faces. Neither of them seemed all that phased. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen the Salvatore brothers with another man’s blood on them.

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