Page 26 of Kissing the Villain

12

ALEX

NINE MONTHS LATER

After another longday of restoring a fresco, I exited the chapel, desperate to get home. My grandfather had arranged my internship with Madeline Laveau. She was the only person willing to work with me after Luca forced me out of his life and had me blacklisted from the art world.

Despite my sold-out show, securing exhibitions on my own was nearly impossible. The Salvatore name opened doors, and without Luca, everyone slammed them in my face.

I needed Luca.

And I hated it.

On my walk home, a chill crept down my spine as someone’s shoes slapped the pavement several feet behind me. I cut down a side street, hoping to lose my stalker. When I glanced over my shoulder, no one was there.

You’re losing your mind.

It was too dark to see more than shadows, but I could hear the faint sound of footsteps drawing closer. Tiny bumps dotted my skin, making the hair on my arms stand at attention.

For weeks, I’d felt like someone was observing me from a distance. I would look up from my sketchbook at the coffee shop andsensehim. But the second I turned my head, he vanished. The stalking had extended to my current restoration job.

Choking back my nerves, I rushed toward my apartment, using the nervous energy to propel me. Sirens blared from a distance. Several cars flew past me, but they drove too fast to flag them down.

A rigid sole tapped the sidewalk. The sounds grew louder and gained momentum. He was maybe twenty feet behind me, so close I could smell his musky cologne.

Maybe you’re imagining it.

The doctors told me I’d imagined that night in the alley with Luca. What felt like real life were vivid dreams. The doctors claimed the anxiety of losing Aiden brought on my hallucinations. My grandfather said I’d never left the house that night, which meant the entire encounter with Luca never happened.

“You had another episode,” Dr. Harper told me during our therapy session. “I spoke to Luca. He confirmed you were never alone with him and men who looked like snakes.”

My grandfather had insisted I leave Devil’s Creek. He encouraged me to pursue my art career—or what was left of it—in Brooklyn.

Nine months later, Aiden was either dead or locked up somewhere. He would have called by now. My twin wouldn’t do this to me.

Luca was responsible.

I felt it deep in my bones.

The person following me broke into a light jog. “You can run, Alex,” a male voice boomed behind me. “But why bother? Save us both the trouble and quit while you’re ahead.”

Ice flooded my veins at the sound of his voice.

Why is he here?

I spun around, my limbs trembling as I locked eyes with a tall, handsome man dressed in a dark, tailored suit. He styled his black hair as if he’d wanted it to look messy, a few strands falling onto his forehead. Deep blue eyes met mine.

“Marcello?” I stared in awe at the gorgeous man towering over me. “What are you doing in Brooklyn?”

“You know why I’m here.”

I hadn’t seen Marcello Salvatore since the summer. After accusing Luca of killing my brother, I never expected to see any of the Salvatores again.

“Don’t move another inch.” I pushed out my hand to stop his advances. “Why are you here?”

He crossed his arms over his thick chest, ripped beneath the fitted suit jacket. “Your grandfather is expecting you.”

“Is Pops okay?”

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