“My house was a nightmare,” I told him. “I hated it.”
He cupped the side of my face with his big hand that covered my cheek. “Your mom will pay for what she did to you.”
I felt a spark between us, an instant connection that made my skin sizzle with heat. “What’s happening between us, Marcello?”
His eyes held mine. “I don’t know.”
“I know this marriage is important to your family… but I don’t want to marry Luca.”
He gripped my shirt collar and pulled me to him. His breath ghosted my lips. He smelled like scotch and cigars mixed with the scent of his citrus aftershave and clean linen.
“I want you, princess. I want you to be my wife.” His thumb brushed my nipple over top of my shirt, and then he tugged on it. “But I made a promise…”
I cried out, a whimper on my lips. “Marcello.”
“Fuck, I love when you moan my name.”
“Marcello,” I whispered as he pinched the tiny bud again.
He smirked. “If you were mine, I would never treat you the way he does.” The pad of his thumb swiped over my painfully sore nipple. “What do you want, Alex?”
He looked at me with those wide blue eyes. So beautiful. We breathed hard, lips parted. I attempted to speak, but nothing came out.
What did I want? No one had ever asked me that.
“Right now, I want you to keep playing with my nipples.” I bit his bottom lip and sucked it into my mouth. “I want you to make me come, Marcello.”
An excited groan escaped his throat. “You never paid up for the last three orgasms I gave you,” he said in a taunting tone, laughter in his voice. “Do you think you deserve more?”
“Bash has been teaching me,” I confessed. “I’ve learned a few things.”
“Oh?” Marcello smiled, a real one that touched his eyes. “What did Bash teach you?”
“How to suck cock.” I wet my lips. “Make me come, and I’ll show you everything I’ve learned.”
He pinned my back to the mattress, his lips caressing mine. “Open your legs, princess.” His hand dipped between my thighs, prying them apart. “Be a good girl and scream for me.”
Ifucked up more than usual. Bastian and Marcello wouldn’t even look at me, let alone talk to me. Luca wasn’t speaking to any of us. After people threatened to list Alex for auction, he spent late nights in his office, making deals with shady people from the criminal underworld.
No one could disturb him.
Despite his attempts to hate Alex, he didn’t, not really. Luca wanted her just as much as the rest of us.
My father was in Italy on business, halfway around the world. Apart from Bash, he was the only one who knew how to quell my urges. So I left a message with Dr. Lansing, demanding he call me back immediately. I didn’t know how to fix what I did. That part of my brain didn’t work.
Alex hated me, and it was ruining my bond with Bash. So I left for the New York office the next morning. I figured we all needed some space, and that it would give Bastian time to explain the situation to Alex. She had her own issues, so I hoped she would understand.
She wasn’t like Evangeline, I told myself, even though I wasn’t certain. Alex was a lot like my adoptive mother. Beautiful, smart, full of passion and intensity. A little crazy, too. Eva never accepted me, called me the devil. She saw the dark side of my personality and wanted me out of her life and her family.
What if Alex feels that way?
If Evangeline hadn’t died, she would have convinced Arlo to get rid of Bastian and me. Because of Arlo, we weren’t orphans. Our father welcomed us into his home and his family and called us his sons. I never felt like an outsider with Arlo. He embraced my darkness, showed me how to control it, how to use it to my advantage.
Arlo was my father in every way that counted. My bio dad never even bothered with me. When he wasn’t cheating on my mom, he was usually at the office trying to expand Atlantic Airlines with Bash’s dad. Now, he was nothing more than a faint memory, just a man who donated his sperm and his fortune.
I sat behind my desk and kicked my shoe up on my knee. The headquarters for Atlantic Airlines were in Manhattan and overlooked Central Park. I had the perfect view from the seventieth floor. But this place felt cold and empty without Bastian across the room from me. We shared a three thousand square foot office that had a bar, kitchen, full bathroom, and a bedroom for when we worked late nights.
I was keeping a low profile until Bastian stopped acting like a dick. So I stuck with my usual stalking, something I had perfected over the years. The computer screen in front of me had dozens of camera angles, all of them of the Salvatore Estate.