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This girl would be the death of us.
She held my brother’s hand. “I’m here, Marcello.” Thick tears fell from her eyes. “Don’t leave me, okay? Help is on the way. Stay awake. Can you do that for me?”
As my brother’s eyes snapped shut, Alex screamed his name. She tried again and again, but he was… dead.
Imade a deal with the Devil. And not with the handsome one standing beside me, watching his brother’s life dangle from a string. No, I prayed to the evil lurking within the halls, the monster that lived inside all of us. I’d never believed in a higher power, but I would have gladly signed a contract in blood.
Sold my soul to the Devil.
Anything to keep Marcello alive.
The thought of losing him sliced into my chest, gripping my heart so fiercely I begged for the pain to stop. I leaned against the wall in the ballroom, tears streaming down my cheeks. My legs shook so badly Luca had to hold me up.
But I pushed him away.
I didn’t want to be touched.
He’d done everything in his power to save me from his enemies. My devil protected me from the demons on our doorstep. But when I was this upset, I craved silence and isolation. Marcello gave me those moments, let me steal as many as I needed to find comfort.
Marcello has to live.
After the medical response team lifted Marcello onto a stretcher, we followed them downstairs. The Devil’s Knights were already in the ballroom, helping a group of nurses and doctors assemble a mobile operating room. Within minutes, they transformed the elaborate room into a hospital ward. A plastic curtain hung from poles around the operating table, creating a clean environment. Well, clean enough, given the situation.
They moved Marcello to an operating table surrounded by beeping monitors and medical equipment. A nurse ran lines to his arms and placed sensors on his chest. Dressed in scrubs, my grandfather stood beside the table, his hand outstretched as a man handed him a scalpel, and then he went to work.
A gunshot to the liver gave him about thirty percent of survival, but Marcello was in good hands with Pops. Before his retirement, my grandfather was one of the top surgeons in the country. But even with his skills, the mortality rate was high. So I prayed to the Devil again, begged him to let Marcello live.
I can’t lose him.
Leaning forward, I cupped my knees with my hands and blew out a deep breath. In and out, I tried to steady my nerves. My heart raced so fast I thought it would break right through my chest.
Luca cupped my shoulder and whispered, “Calm down.”
“That’s the last thing you say to someone when they’re have a panic attack,” I snapped.
He tried to hug me, and I knocked his hand away. Luca had never been there for me when I needed him. He was usually the reason for my pain and suffering.
“Drea,” he groaned with a pissed-off expression scrolling across his tired face. “I’m just trying to help.”
I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose. Sweat slid down my forehead, dripping onto my eyelids, forcing me to blink a few times to clear my vision. “I have to work through this on my own.”
“If I were Marcello, you’d let me touch you.”
He was right.
I would have flung myself into Marcello’s arms and allowed him to run his fingers through my hair. When I was with Marcello, I truly felt at peace.
We had a special connection.
My emotions were so out of whack I needed someone to blame, someone to hate. Luca was the perfect scapegoat. He’d caused some of the worst moments in my life, but there were a few times when he’d shown me so much pleasure and joy.
Luca crossed his suit-clad arms over his chest and snarled at me. “I almost lost you today. My enemies won’t stop until they pry you from my dead hands. We’re at war, Drea, which means we need to be united.”
“I’m still here,” I pointed out. “Those men are dead and rotting upstairs and are no longer our concern. You should worry about Marcello’s life, not me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby girl.” His fingers slipped beneath my chin, tilting my head until our eyes met. “I always worry about you. You are my one constant. My number one priority.”
“Yeah, right?” I snorted. “When have you ever put me first?”
