He stuffed his hands into his pockets and sighed. “The Founders Society will deal with them.”
“The Albanians have gone underground.”
“Once Alex gets her memories back, she will marry you.” He scratched the corner of his jaw. “We’ll complete Legare, and everything will go back to normal.”
I almost laughed at his suggestion. “Normal? Like we know what that means.”
“The Charter forbids us to admit new Knights until after Legare. If we don’t speed up the process with Alex, we’re all fucked.”
“Her mind can fracture, Marcello. We have to be careful with how hard we push her.”
His gaze shifted to the right side of the ballroom. “Let me talk to The Serpents.”
Hades leaned against the wall, a drink in hand as he spoke to Morpheus. Minos was on his right, chatting with a pretty brunette dressed in a pink gown. Tall and imposing, Lethe loomed over the girls attached to his arms.
They all used nicknames associated with the Greek Underworld. Hades, the God of Death, Morpheus, the God of Sleep, Lethe, after the River of Forgetfulness, and Minos, the Judge of the Dead. And they lived up to their names. Aside from all of their tattoos, they blended in with the Devil’s Creek elite. No one seemed to notice the monsters hidden beneath the carnival masks.
“Alex doesn’t remember them,” Marcello assured me.
“No, I think she does. She has nightmares about men in scaly masks. Seeing them again might fuck with her head. It might push her over the edge. This is all part of the plan.”
Alex’s psychiatrist told me about her night terrors after I dangled his affair over his head. A divorce would have cost him a shitload of money. That was why I loved collecting secrets. They were worth more than money in my world.
“She danced with Morpheus.” Marcello tipped his head toward the tall blond with spiky tips, wearing a red and gold mask. “You thought it would trigger her, but she doesn’t look upset.”
“That’s because Sonny is working his magic on her.”
No woman could resist the golden boy of Devil’s Creek. Sonny was funny, charming, loved to give people stupid nicknames, and always put people at ease. We sent him whenever we needed to schmooze. To get someone on our side without threatening them.
Alex gave Sonny a dreamy look.
She liked him.
Of course, she did.
Everyone liked Sonny Cormac.
“Bring Alex to my bedroom after the party.”
Marcello’s eyebrows rose, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“Let’s see how the rest of the party goes. Maybe someone in the crowd will trigger a reaction from her.”
He focused his attention on Alex and nodded.
I changed into a plunge lace teddy, black with pink fringe. Marcello stared at me in the mirror, his eyes on my breasts as he slid a silky black robe over my shoulders. Nerves shaking through me, I shoved my arms in the holes and tugged on the belt. My legs trembled at the thought of being alone with Luca in his bedroom.
Because the Devil always wins.
Marcello swept my hair off my shoulder, his fingers brushing my neck. “Luca doesn’t like to wait.”
“I can find his bedroom on my own.”
He steered me toward the door. “Let’s go.”
We walked down the hall in silence and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Luca had the entire west wing to himself. I poked my head into a few rooms to see what Luca was hiding, but Marcello pulled on my arm, dragging me toward the end of the hall.
We stopped in front of a set of double doors left open a crack. Anxiety bubbled in my stomach as Marcello knocked, then pushed the door open. I let out a deep breath and prepared myself to be alone with Luca.
Three walls were white except for the one behind his bed, black to match his headboard… and his heart. I inched my way into the room with Marcello behind me. Still dressed in his suit, Luca sat in an oversized armchair by the window with a glass of scotch in front of his mouth. He took in the sight of me, his blue eyes untamed and feral as they roamed up and down my thighs.
Marcello left without a word, closing the door behind him.
“Sit on the bed,” Luca ordered.
I glanced at the black sheets and gulped down my fear. It was just sex. We’d been together hundreds of times. If getting under him meant finding my brother, I would gladly spread my legs for the Devil.
Luca sipped from his glass, studying me as if I were a specimen under a microscope, leaving no part of my body uncharted. I wiped my sweaty hands on his sheets, unable to find my calm center.
He downed the last of his scotch and set the glass on the table. Leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, he watched me.