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The Devil I Hate (Devil's Knights 1)

Page 63

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But she was a Wellington.

And she was mine.

I moved to my father’s vacant chair and tapped Marcello’s arm. “What are you and Cormac up to?”

He rolled his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “If either of you fuck with my plans, I’ll slit your throats and paint the town with your blood.”

“I’d like to see you try, brother.”

Marcello was a trained killer, skilled with weapons and hand-to-hand combat. No one sane would mess with him. But common sense had left my crazy ass a long time ago. My younger brother led a team called Alpha Command at Salvatore Global. They were a group of mercenaries and thieves our clients employed for their illegal businesses. On the books, they handled security for my family’s company.

I glanced at my younger brother, hands steepled on the table. “She needs to remember.”

Marcello sipped his scotch, lounging in his chair with the entitlement of a prince. “Be patient.”

“I have been patient for close to a year,” I pointed out.

I watched Alex with Sonny. She flicked her curls over her shoulder and laughed. He held our queen close, keeping her safe from the other monsters lurking in the ballroom. The Devil’s Knights would die for Alex. We would do anything to protect her from our enemies. The Knights needed Alex to unlock the memories she had repressed as a coping mechanism. A way to overcome her trauma.

Come back to us, baby girl.

Our survival depends on it.

“We need to escalate our plans,” I told Marcello. “What we’ve tried so far isn’t working.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“She thinks Wellington is innocent. Her precious Pops plays his role so well.” I shook my head, disgusted. “Look at him…”

Both of our gazes shifted to the dance floor, where Carl led his granddaughter away from Sonny. They engaged in a heated conversation as he spun an upset-looking Alex in circles. Angry scowl in place, her lips moved as if she were arguing with him. A master strategist, Carl knew how to play the game.

I raised a glass of scotch to my lips. “She thinks she’s doing him a favor. That she’s saving him from his past transgressions. Wait until she finds out why she’s here.”

An evil grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Any updates on the next shipment? The Basiles called last night. They want to add to their usual order.”

“I’m still waiting for confirmation,” Marcello said. “Should hear any minute.”

“If Alex tries to run again, you can throw her ass in the shipping container. That would give her a good scare. Wake her ass up.”

He scanned the room for Alex, not even trying to hide his desire from me. “No. She’ll behave. I think I’m making headway with her. Give me more time. Alex will learn to trust me.”

“You locked her in a room and drugged her. She’s biding her time until she can run again.”

“She cares about her grandfather too much to risk it. I think she learned her lesson the first time.”

But did she?

Marcello’s phone rang with a new message. He read it, committing the cipher to memory, then shoved it in front of me. It was the date and the coordinates of our next shipment. We partnered with Mac Corp and Battle Industries to provide weapons and illegal technology to our business partners for intel and manpower to use against our newest enemies. They were sniffing too close. And with their attention pointed at Alex, I needed all the friends I could get.

“The Basiles are coming to town in a few weeks,” I told Marcello.

I hated working with the Basile family, but they were old family friends from Sicily. We would never deny their requests, not even when it violated my paper-thin morals. Their connections to the criminal underworld were too important for our business operations. People whispered about my family being in the Mafia, guilt by association, but there was no escaping our relationship with the Basiles or the Five Families.

Blood in, blood out.

Marcello deleted the message and shoved the phone into his suit pocket. “How many containers are we adding to the usual shipment?”

“Four more to accommodate the Basiles. Coordinate the shipments with Sonny.”

“You wouldn’t put her in a container, would you?” Marcello’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “Because we could lose her forever. She’s afraid of the dark and confined spaces.”

“I’ll do anything to bring her back to us.”

His cell phone rang with a new message. Marcello studied it with his teeth gritted, his other hand balled into a fist on the table. “Fuck.”

“What now?”

“Someone attacked the men at our safe house in Beacon Bay.” He rose from the chair. “I have to go.”

“No.” I threw my arm out in front of him. “Send Roman and his team.”

Marcello’s fingers moved across the keypad of his phone. “Done.”

“They’re getting closer.” I stood beside him. “It’s only a matter of time before they come for her, Marcello.”



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