AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His lips brushed mine. “I promise.”
He held me for a long time as Bastian sat on the bed beside us, quiet for once. His hand rested on my knee, and on occasion, he tapped his fingers and hummed a tune. None of us knew what to say. Marcello felt horrible for not keeping his eye on me at all times. But it was just the bathroom. He couldn’t have anticipated that man trying to attack me in a restaurant.
Marcello shifted his weight, about to rise from the bed when I grabbed his hand. “Wait. Don’t leave me. Not yet.”
“I can’t stay, princess.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “Duty calls. I’ll be back in the morning. If you need me, I won’t be far, okay?”
I kissed him, a soft peck that barely grazed his lips. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After Marcello left the room, Bastian dropped to his knees in front of me. He tilted my head to each side and inspected my neck. “I should have known better. I wouldn’t have left you with him if I didn’t think he could handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“Damian loves blood and death.” Bastian wiped away my tears with the swipe of his thumb. “He has a mental illness. What just happened in the bathroom, the doctors call it erotophonophilia. Sexual arousal from murder. You got him off, so I thought he would be okay alone with you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, startled by the news. How did I hitch my wagon to a legit fucking psychopath?
“His kinks are like a serial killer?”
Bastian slipped his fingers between mine. “I know how it sounds but…” Eyes downcast, he sighed. “He developed the condition after our parents’ murders. At least that’s what the doctors believe. But I think he was this way long before they died.”
“Murdered? The newspapers said they crashed because of a mechanical failure.”
He shook his head. “It’s easy to spin lies when you have enough money. A terrorist organization killed our parents. It wasn’t an accident.” He blew out a deep breath and ran his hand through his dark, wet hair. “We should have been on the flight with our parents.”
“Where were you?”
“I had a last minute piano recital.” Bastian sat on my right, still holding my hand, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. “One pianist dropped out. They asked me to fill in. Damian was only there because he begged his parents to come with me. We went everywhere together.”
Since he was sharing, I figured this was a good time to learn more about the mysterious Salvatores. “How did you end up here?”
“Arlo was good friends with our parents. He offered to adopt us.”
“I bet the money had a lot to do with it.”
He glanced over at the grand piano by the window and gave a light shake of his head. “No, he wanted something more powerful than money. Like you, I’m from a Founding Family. So is Damian.”
My family lineage traced back to Alexander Hamilton. The Wellingtons were considered American royalty, but I’d never felt like a princess, not even for a second.
“I’m related to John Adams,” Bastian told me. “My grandfather is Fitzgerald Archibald Adams IV. He’s the current Grand Master of The Founders Society and owns the largest bank in the world. That old bastard is meaner than a pit bull on steroids. We lucked out with Arlo. He gave us a home and welcomed us into his family. I have nothing but respect for him.”
“I hate being a Wellington,” I confessed, since we were sharing our family drama. “My life sucked before my grandfather came around and offered me things I’d only dreamed about. Pops made it sound like I could have this Cinderella story life if I moved to Devil’s Creek. I was stupid back then. I didn’t know the dream came with strings attached. Being related to a Founder has only made my life worse.”
“I know how you feel, Cherry.” He stroked my cheek with his long fingers. “The money, the company, all of this shit I would give back just for another second with my parents. I never cared about any of it.” He lowered his gaze and bit the inside of his cheek. “At least I have Damian. For as much as he gets under my skin, I doubt I would have survived this long without him.”
“That’s how I feel about Aiden. He’s my rock.” I leaned forward, elbows on my thighs, and glanced over at him. “You’re not related to Damian. Why did Arlo adopt both of you?”
Bastian’s eyes held mine. “He only wanted me, but I wouldn’t go without Damian.”
“Why so much loyalty to him?”
He shrugged, unaffected by my question. “Because he’s my brother. Damian needed me.”
“Why did Arlo want you and not him?”
“Damian has always had problems. His parents tried to get him help, but… I don’t know. He was never right in the head.”
“Yeah, but he listens to you. He was so subservient when you yelled at him.”
