The Devil I Love (Devil's Knights 3)

“No.” I set the phone on the table and flipped onto my back, leaning back against a stack of pillows. “She needs you.”

It killed me to say that, but it was true.

Marcello gave me an apprehensive look like he thought I was joking with him. He climbed into the bed and lifted her in his arms, resting her head on his chest. He stroked his fingers through her curls, a loving, soothing gesture that was so foreign to me. I did not know how to console someone who was hurting because I’d never learned how to help myself. My father had taught me to hold in pain, embrace it for my deviant purposes.

Carl Wellington was right about me. I loved her more than anything on this planet, but Marcello was the one she needed. The two of them just clicked, like two puzzle pieces fitting into place.

“No,” she screamed, swatting her hand at his chest.

Marcello grabbed her hands and held them as he hooked his arm around her to pull her into his embrace. My brother glanced over at me, watching me with sad eyes. He’d always looked that way, even when we were kids. Poor, sad Marcello. I had assumed that was the reason my mother babied him, why she had devoted most of her time to my younger brother.

“Are you taking notes?” Marcello asked in a hushed tone. “Because this is what you’ll need to do the next time. I won’t be here every night.”

I snickered at his comment. “Excuse me for not having the feminine touch like you.”

“Fuck you,” he snapped. “I’m not your little bitch.”

“You’re whatever I tell you to be, Marcello.”

“I can go.” He glanced down at Alex and sighed. “I don’t need to do you any more favors.”

“You’re here for her, not me.”

He didn’t bother to correct me because it was true. Marcello would walk through fire to protect his Queen.

“You won, Luca. Stop acting like a jealous prick.”

I laughed at his stupid suggestion. “Like I would ever be jealous of you.”

“Save it. You were jealous of Alex’s feelings for me. You were out of your mind.”

“Because she’s mine, Marcello!” I yelled louder than I had intended, and Alex stirred in his arms. “She’s the only thing I have that’s mine.” I lowered my voice. “And I have to share her with you and the Knights and Aiden fucking Wellington.”

“Alex might call out my name in her sleep, but she’s yours. You’re an idiot if you think she was ever going to choose me.”

I propped my elbow up on the pillow and looked at him. “I don’t know how to do this for her.”

“Then take your head out of your ass and watch what I’m doing. It’s easy, Luca.” He leaned back so I could see how he held Alex. “You have two degrees from Harvard and run one of the largest companies in the world. If you can’t figure out how to console your fiancée, then you’re a fucking lost cause.”

“What if she goes back to before? What if she’s like Mom?”

He rolled his shoulders. “She is like Mom.”

“You were better with Mom,” I confessed. “Sometimes, she was out of control. A completely different person. You knew what to say to pull her out of her head.”

“You have to learn to deal with Alex’s mental illness. It’s not going anywhere. She will struggle with it for the rest of her life.”

“What’s the secret?” I asked.

“Patience. You’re used to getting what you want when you want it. To help Alex, you need to be patient and understanding. Sometimes, you can’t fix her. You just need to let her figure it out on her own.”

“Like Mom,” I whispered, staring at the moonlight coming from the balcony doors. “I never knew what she needed. I just wanted to fix her. Make her normal.”

“You can do this, Luca.” He sat up and moved Alex into my arms. “Here. Put your arms around her, then lay her head on your chest.”

I did as he instructed like I was a fucking robot that needed to be programmed to learn how to be a real person. Alex groaned as I slipped my fingers through her hair.

Marcello grabbed my hand and moved it to her stomach, right beneath her silky pajama top. He clutched my wrist, helping me make circular motions on her soft skin. “She likes this.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “You were touching her like this every night?”

“It’s her stomach,” he shot back. “Not her fucking tits. Give me a break. You let us do worse things with Alex in the temple last year.”

“I never cared before,” I admitted.

“Because you couldn’t come to terms with your feelings for her until after she stabbed you. Why does it take a catastrophic event like a stabbing, shooting, or kidnapping, to get you to see what’s right in front of you?”