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He licked my skin and then grabbed my ass. “Imagine there are four big dicks at the end of that tunnel.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” I giggled when he tapped my ass again. “Maybe the dark isn’t so bad after all.”
As we stepped into the dark space, lights built into the walls flicked on, making it less scary. Maybe one day I would overcome my fear. Not today, though. I still had a lot of shit to work out before I could get used to the darkness.
“Better, princess?” Marcello asked as he followed me into the tunnel, his hand on my lower back.
“Yeah. Not as bad as your spy shed tunnel.”
He laughed. “It’s not a spy shed.”
“I still find it slightly unnerving that you watched me from that room.”
“Consider yourself lucky I did. If I hadn’t spotted the threats in Brooklyn, someone would have taken you a long time ago.”
A shiver rushed down my arms, dotting my skin with tiny bumps. I rubbed my hands down my arms to get the gross feeling to go away. “How many times?”
“This year… or ever?”
I halted in place, my heart pounding in my chest, and looked over at him. “How many total?”
“Since before you moved to Devil’s Creek?” Marcello ran the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip, deep in thought. “Over a hundred. Maybe more.”
I gasped at his confession. “And this year?”
“We’re only halfway through the year, and we’re at thirty seven rescues.”
“Wow,” I choked out, nerves shaking through me. “Why do these men want me so badly? Don’t say it’s because I’m with you and your brothers, because Bash gives me the same response every time.”
“He’s not lying to you, Alex. It’s the truth.” He hooked his arm around me, resting his hand on my shoulder. “The Devil’s Knights don’t just loan money to the criminal underworld. We make investments for our clients, handle secure transactions for illegal items, import and export guns, drugs, and pretty much anything you can’t get through customs.”
My jaw unhinged at his confession. They were even worse than I had thought.
“How do you ship drugs and guns?”
“Through Sonny’s company. Mac Corp. We use their shipping containers and connections to circumvent the usual channels.”
“So the Russian men who keep trying to steal me… Are they customers?”
“No. We deal with a lot of shady people, but not the Bratva. It’s a conflict of interest for our other clients.”
“Who do you work with?”
He steered me down the lit pathway as we walked farther into the never-ending cave of wonders. “Drug cartels, the Sicilian Mafia, the Italian-American Mafia, motorcycle clubs, street gangs. You name it, and we’ve probably worked with them.”
“The Knights come from wealthy families. Why do you need to work with those kinds of people?”
“We don’t.” Marcello rolled his broad shoulders. “My grandfather got us into this business. He already had a relationship with the Mafia in the States and wanted a connection to the Sicilians. My mother was the granddaughter of a Mafia boss. So my grandfather sent my dad to get to know her, get information about her family. But he ended up falling in love with her.”
My lips parted in shock. “Really? In interviews, people always asked her about her humble upbringing.”
“My grandparents left Italy to get away from the violence. Vincenzo Basile is my uncle. He runs the family now from Calabria.”
“I thought the Salvatores weren’t in the Mafia.”
“My great grandfather was a Made man,” he said as we neared the end of the tunnel. “After the Salvatores fled from Italy, they became bootleggers and worked for the Five Families in New York. My dad wanted to make us legit. He’s the reason we have Salvatore Global.”
“Now I understand why it’s so important for one of you to marry me. It’s not about the money. In the eyes of the Founders, you are all thugs.”
