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Tate Maxwell was like a brother to him. Growing up as an only child of a tech billionaire, Drake didn’t have many friends apart from the children of the founding families.
Once Tate died, Drake lost all will to fight and live. I had to keep reminding him that Olivia needed him and not to give up. She was the only thing that kept him going in the cave.
“Listen to me, Drake.” I slid my hand beneath his chin to capture his attention. His eyes and mouth were so swollen he looked unrecognizable. “You did everything you could to save Tate. There’s nothing you could have done differently to change the outcome.”
“I should have taken his place.”
“Those men wouldn’t have given you the option,” I reminded him.
“I should have given them access to Lovelace.” He dabbed at the tears with his shirt. “Then he would still be here.”
“No, he wouldn’t. The second you gave them access to Lovelace, they would have killed all of us. And then all of our deaths would have been in vain. Tate knew what he was doing. He did the right thing. We won’t forget his sacrifice.”
“I don’t know how to find a global terrorist organization, Marcello. I’m a fucking coder. An engineer. Not a soldier.” He shook his head. “We don’t even have the resources to take on The Lucaya Group. They will keep coming after us until everyone we love is dead.”
“We don’t need more money or resources. You have Lovelace.”
“I can’t do that.” He dismissed my comment with a wave of his hand. “No, it’s too dangerous. Lovelace could hurt innocent people.”
“You created her. So you can program her to eliminate the threat.”
He knew where I was going with this but couldn’t accept the facts. If he wanted to beat The Lucaya Group, he had to think like them.
Become a different man.
Losing Tate might have been the one thing to push him over the edge. He had to use Lovelace for evil to avenge his best friend’s death.
It was the only way.
Drake squeezed my shoulder. “Right now, I’m more worried about telling Liv that Tate is dead. I can’t think about anything else.”
The speaker in the room’s corner made a crackling sound. “We’re making our descent and will land in Hartford in twenty-five minutes,” the pilot said.
I tapped his knee with my hand. “We’re almost home.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Home.”
* * *
Alex stood on the helipad between my brothers as the helicopter landed on the blacktop at the Salvatore Estate. My dad stepped out from the group, still dressed in a suit at this hour. He didn’t know the meaning of casual wear.
My heart hammered in my chest as the door opened. I sat there for a moment, still in a shit ton of pain. I hadn’t seen my face, but it must have looked like it got smashed in with a brick. They hit me for hours until I passed out, repeating the process with Drake.
Dad extended his hand, a worried expression tugging at his dark features. He never wore his emotions on his sleeve. A trait Luca had inherited from him. This was the closest I’d seen to a physical response from my dad since my mother’s death.
I took his hand and climbed down from the chopper.
Alex gasped. “Oh, my God.” She turned to look at Luca. “You didn’t tell me they hurt him.”
I couldn’t hear his response.
My father pulled me into a hug and patted my back. “Marcello, my boy.” He tightened his grip around me, resting his chin on my shoulder.
That was all he said.
A man of few words, Arlo Salvatore wasn’t the type to show emotion. But as he hugged me, I felt his love, grief, and sorrow. He was afraid of losing me.
Drake climbed out of the helicopter, more battered than me. His tanned skin had a yellowish hue, discolored from bruises and cuts. He staggered out of the aircraft, having trouble maintaining his balance. My dad’s reflexes were better than mine. He caught Drake by the shoulder and pulled him up.
