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The Devil I Hate (Devil's Knights 1)

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“Marcello,” Alex cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks as she stared at my brother. “Marcello, shoot him.”

Not me.

My brother.

What the fuck?

She thought he could protect her better than me. Maybe he could. He was better trained, more skilled with weapons. It was my fault they had grown closer in my absence. I allowed my responsibilities to The Devil’s Knights to cloud my judgment. Let it put even more distance between us.

Marcello’s jaw ticked. “It’s okay, Alex.”

Alex whimpered, her chest heaving with panic.

I held out my hand. “Hey, baby. Look at me. Okay, can you do that?”

Her eyes found mine, and she swallowed hard.

“You’re not worth anything to them if you’re dead,” I told her.

“Don’t fucking move,” the dark-haired man said with a thick accent. “Because I will kill her.”

No, you won’t.

He didn’t have the authority to kill Alex. His boss would want the pleasure of torturing information out of her before putting her out of her misery. The Queen was the most powerful piece in chess for a reason. Only an idiot would sacrifice her without a plan.

Know your enemy.

All criminals were similar. We had a sick desire for blood and destruction. And we did this shit for money and power. Capturing the Queen of the Knights would give them temporary power over us, but killing her would fuck up his boss’s plans.

Reaching for my gun, I walked into the room, glaring at the asshole in front of me. He thought he could use Alex against me. But I was always ten steps ahead of my opponents. Like any good chess player, I was a master strategist.

Roman’s gun was across the room by the bathroom door. There was a trail of blood that led straight to his limp body. He was tough, one of Marcello’s best men. But how the fuck did they beat us to Alex’s bedroom? We would have seen them, especially with us covering the front and back stairwells.

How would you do it?

Think, Luca, think.

My eyes swept over the room once more, attempting to piece it all together. Rumpled bedsheets were on the floor with broken vases and decor. From the looks of it, Alex tried to hit her attackers with whatever she could find. After she’d smashed all the valuables in her bedroom in a fit of rage, I was hesitant to replace them. But I caved because I wanted her to have pretty things. I wanted her to feel at home.

I raised my gun, Marcello at my side, aiming at the piece of shit’s head. Damian and Bastian were behind us. We had to be smart about this. One slip of his hand and he would hit Alex’s carotid artery. She would bleed out on the floor within seconds.

“Take one more step, and your queen dies,” he warned.

I didn’t recognize the man. But based on his accent, I assumed he worked for the Kurti crime family. Another goon they sent to do their bidding. When would the Kurtis realize they had to show their faces before I would reveal my hand? I wasn’t about to waste my best moves on their backup squad.

“Let her go,” I ordered. “This has nothing to do with her.”

“Your queen is fair compensation for Mrs. Kurti,” he said in broken English.

“Your boss owes us a lot of money. He knew the cost of doing business with us. Now, let the girl go. She’s innocent. Killing her won’t solve your problem. It will make new ones.”

He inched backward, toward the open balcony doors, with the blade digging into Alex’s flesh. A whimper slipped from her lips. Terrified, she looked to me for help, a plea in her watery eyes.

“Drop your guns on the floor,” the man growled.

Alex squealed as he sliced into her skin. A droplet of blood slid down her pale neck. I wanted to shoot this motherfucker in the head, but I couldn’t take the risk. With his blade already cutting into her flesh, I had one move.

The man behind Alex kept a gun on her head. Another one pointed at us. I could dodge a bullet, but that blade… it was too close to her throat.

“Do it,” I told my brothers as I bent down to set my gun on the floor.

Marcello followed suit, his eyes on Kurti’s men. I could hear Bastian and Damian do the same behind us.

I carried two guns, one of which was still holstered to my chest. I also had my grandfather’s knife strapped to my ankle. After Alex had grabbed it from my back pocket and stabbed me, I decided it was time for a better hiding place.

“Get on your knees,” the man ordered.

I snarled at him before sinking to one knee.

“Slide the guns to me.”

I pushed our guns to the center of the room. The life drained from Alex’s eyes as she stared at me. Her gaze shifted between Marcello and me, begging for help. She thought we had given up on her.



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