My mother had that extra something, a certain magnetism that drew everyone to her. No one was like her. No one would ever be like her, not even my future wife would ever compare.
“I saw potential in your mother,” my dad said with a rare smile. “She was so talented but misguided. Alexandrea has a lot in common with your mother.”
That was the problem with Alex. She reminded me too much of my mother. Every time I touched her, I felt like I was doing something wrong. Like I was disgracing my mother’s memory by wanting her.
“A woman who doesn’t want or need anything is not an easy woman to please.” He set the glass in his hand on the table, eyes on me. “It took me six months to get your mother to agree to one date. I never gave up on her. Every week for six months, I drove to Brooklyn just to ask her one question… until she finally said yes.”
Alex moved to Brooklyn after art school, so she could be closer to my mother’s roots. She idolized her. But I’d always wondered how she would feel about her idol once she discovered the truth about her family’s dirty past.
“I already know this story,” I shot back, annoyed with story time. He always did this when he was trying to make a point, even though I knew the punchline. “You want me to do the same with Alex.”
My mother’s side of the family was from Calabria. Sicilian Mafia. Dad sought her out because of her ties to the family in the old country, and he ended up falling in love with her. The Basiles blamed my father for her death. For the past fifteen years, they held it over our heads. Forced us into shady deals with criminals, all because they wanted revenge. But we didn’t hurt her. Vincenzo Basile and his thugs were looking in the wrong direction for my mothers’s killer.
He tapped his serpent ring on the arm of the chair, his scary brown irises aimed at me. Marcello and I had inherited his looks, everything except for our mother’s dark blue eyes. I loved my father, but even as an adult, he sometimes frightened me. Especially when he was acting so strange.
Arlo Salvatore didn’t share stories or get personal with anyone. He only did this when he wanted to get his way. I hated when he tried to manipulate me. It was hard to outsmart a man with a 165 IQ, but he tried anyway.
“We have plans for Alex,” I assured him. “We’re taking her to The Mansion tomorrow night.”
“Good.” He grinned with delight and tipped his head toward the door. “Now go get your mother’s ring. You’ll need it.”
On my way downstairs, I stopped on the second floor to see if Alex was still in my mother’s studio. I popped my head into the room. She laid on the floor on her stomach, stripped down to her bra and panties. Marcello sat in the chair beside the easel, his eyes fixed on our beautiful queen.
My younger brother was warming up to her. All the anger and resentment he’d once felt toward her was slowly dissipating. Marcello was the right choice for her to marry. He would have loved her, given her what she’d always wanted from me.
But I could never love a Wellington. To do so would disgrace the memory of my mother. She deserved so much better than what she’d gotten. All because of the fucking Wellingtons and their need to control everything.
I looked at Alex once last time before heading downstairs to the catacombs. The tunnels that ran beneath Devil’s Creek led to each of the Founders’ mansions. We had secret passageways throughout the house, dozens of ways to escape. A safeguard my ancestors had built to ensure they could evade the cops back in their bootlegging days.
I rounded the corner, following the lit pathway to the vault. Pressing my hand to the screen on the wall, I leaned forward for the device to scan my eyes. The metal door slid to the side, the lights turning on one at a time to illuminate the Salvatore treasures.
My family had made their money mostly from illegal activities. Stolen paintings. Precious jewels. Anything to make a quick buck. It was Angelo Salvatore, my great grandfather that had the vision, which propelled us into the future.
By the time my father had taken over the family, he turned our millions into billions. Salvatore Global was my father’s doing. He had secured our legacy, made deals to create an alliance with The Founders Society.
I would not let him down.
I entered the vault and stood at the center of the room. We had everything from unrecovered works of art to jewelry worn by royals. But I was here for one specific piece.
The Salvatore diamond—my mother’s engagement ring.
I cracked open the dark blue box and studied the thirty carat round brilliant cut diamond. It had been fifteen years since I’d seen this ring on my mother’s finger.
As I stuffed the box into my pocket, my cell phone dinged with a new message. A group chat from Drake Battle that included The Devil’s Knights who lived in the area.
Drake Battle:Our queen is on theIl Circoauction page.
Flames burned beneath my skin, like a fucking dragon about to spit fire. I knew The Lucaya Group would eventually succeed, despite our best attempts to keep her off that fucking site. Even with intervention from The Serpents and our cartel friends, we couldn’t stop it.
Drake included a link that contained images of Alex naked. That was my fault. I’d saved a few pictures of her on my phone. On the rare occasions I touched her, it wasn’t hard to get her naked. The more I pushed Alex away, the more she seemed to want me.
Luca Salvatore:Then get her the fuck off it, Battle!
Drake Battle:Easier said than done. I’m working on it.
Sonny Cormac:Our queen looks fuck-hot.
Cole Marshall:Bet all those sleazy motherfuckers will pay up just to get a look at her.