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He didn’t look back as he left the room. The moment he was gone, I let out a breath of air, barely able to contain my tears as the first one slid down my cheek.
After lunch, Lorenzo’s men locked me in a private bedroom with an ensuite bathroom. I hopped into the shower and scrubbed my skin until I felt less dirty. Just being on this boat, with a man who wasn’t my fiancé, churned my stomach.
The second I got into the room, I ripped off his stupid engagement ring and replaced it with my real one. I would have rather died than marry Lorenzo Basile. There was no fucking way in hell I could go through with the wedding, not when I was madly in love with my guys.
I tamed my curls with gel and even attempted to do my makeup. It wasn’t something I wore often. Growing up, my mother never taught me anything. Aiden showed me how to shave my legs, which was really fucking embarrassing. He also watched YouTube videos to help fix my hair, so I didn’t look like a frizzy rat.
I needed my brother.
He was downstairs in that room alone, and I prayed he was still alive. They didn’t have to drag him into this mess.
Lorenzo didn’t need to kidnap him.
With a towel wrapped around me, I walked into the bedroom. I flipped the lid off the box, which sat on the king-size mattress. A present from Lorenzo. I rolled my eyes at the white sundress, paired with matching lace panties and a nearly see-through bra.
Gross.
I dressed into the clothes, since I had nothing else to wear, and then strolled over to the window. Shoving the curtains aside, I looked out at the ocean. Beautiful, peaceful. It would have been perfect if my men were at my sides.
From a distance, I could see land and released a sigh of relief. I couldn’t fight him while we were at sea. So I stared out the window and dreamed about all the ways I could kill Lorenzo Basile.
* * *
What felt like hours passed in silence before one of Lorenzo’s men opened the door and dragged me off the boat. We arrived at a small island that could have been anywhere in the world. There was nothing but ocean for miles in every direction.
A jungle surrounded the island. As we walked inland, I saw the mansion guarded by armed men. A tall iron fence, which circled the property, had at least a dozen more security guards lining the perimeter. There was no way my men would get anywhere near this place without getting shot.
A chill rushed down my spine at the thought. They would risk their lives for me. The Devil’s Knights had sworn an oath to protect their queen. I didn’t want anyone to die for me. My life wasn’t any more important than theirs, and yet I knew they would take the risks, despite the cost.
Several men stood in front of the entrance. They had machine guns strapped to their backs and handguns holstered beneath their suit jackets. Devil Island had more security than a military base, and by the look of it, even more weapons.
Lorenzo rushed past us, muttering a few words to the guards in Italian. He walked through the gates without a glance at me, and I was thankful for that.
I hadn’t seen my brother or mother in hours. Aiden was unconscious the last time I saw him. And who knew what the hell those men had done to my mother?
The men gripping my arms led me through the gates and into a massive courtyard with even more guards. The salty scent of the ocean floated through the air like perfume. This place was a fortress on the sea, similar to the Salvatore Estate.
My home.
An ache spread through my chest when I thought about Luca, Marcello, Damian, and Bastian. I dreamed of the moment I could throw myself into their arms.
I stared at the back of Lorenzo as he blew past the guards, moving through the courtyard with speed. He was in his fifties and attractive for a man his age. In some ways, he reminded me of Arlo Salvatore. Refined, polished, like he thought he was better than everyone else. With one look, you could tell he had money, and judging by his yacht and this island, he had tons of it.
He dashed through the courtyard, dressed in white linen shorts, a button-down shirt, and boat shoes. His naturally olive skin popped against the light clothing.
We followed Lorenzo into the house and stepped into the Tuscan-style foyer. The ceiling was high, the walls various shades of cream and decorated with fine art. It didn’t look like somewhere you would hold a secret auction for the world’s criminals.
I recognized the paintings on the walls as we moved down a long tiled hallway. More Evangeline Franco pieces. My fingers itched to be back in Evangeline’s studio, creating more paintings in the Many Faces of the Devil series. I wanted so badly to be back home with my handsome princes, so I could start my life with them.
The men forced me upstairs, with one in front of me and the other man grabbing my ass to push me up each step. I swatted at his hand and yelled.
When we reached the top of the landing, Lorenzo waited for us in the hallway. “Take your hands off my fiancée, before I break them.”
“Sorry, sir.” He lowered his head. “It won’t happen again.”
“You wouldn’t touch the paintings on my walls,” he snapped in a cold tone that crawled down my arms. “So why did you think you can touch my woman?”
I wanted to correct him, but I knew I had to play the game. Let him think I belonged to him.
