Page 98 of Kissing the Villain

He looked up at me, eyes wide. “Is Mrs. Kurti alive?”

I tipped my head back and laughed. “Fuck no, that greedy bitch is dead.”

And now, Marcus Kurti would never know the truth about his wife. He would come for Alex, but we would be ready the next time.

“Call Wellington,” Damian yelled, hunched over in front of a body on the floor. “We need a fucking doctor. Now!”

I moved to the center of the room, Alex clinging to my side and stepping over bodies to get to my younger brother. Marcello lay on his back beside Roman, his hand on his stomach. He had one eye open, taking shallow breaths as he struggled to speak. Blood stained his white Oxford, leaking onto his fingers.

My chest tightened as fear rushed over me.

“Marcello,” Alex cried, dropping to her knees beside him. “Keep your eyes open,” she said, wiping his dark hair off his forehead. “You’re not allowed to die on me.”

He stared at her, the life slowly draining from his eyes. She unbuttoned his shirt and studied the bullet wound. There was so much blood that it coated her pale skin.

Alex glanced at me and yelled, “Luca, go get help.”

We left Carl in my office with my dad, but he knew how to navigate the secret passages beneath my estate that led to Wellington Manor. Alex’s grandfather was a skilled surgeon. He didn’t become the CEO of Wellington Pharmaceuticals until after he retired.

I removed my phone from my pocket and dialed Carl, who answered on the second ring. I explained the situation, and he said, “I’m on my way. Assemble the mobile triage inthe ballroom. Collect the Knights, get them to help you move Marcello, but be careful.”

“Is that Pops?” Alex wiggled her fingers for me to hand her the phone. She raised it to her ear and choked out, “Pops, he doesn’t have much time. He’s losing too much blood.” Wiping blood away with the bottom of her shirt, she appraised the wound. “I think the bullet hit his liver…” She sobbed. “You know what that means… Just tell me what to do.”

I ordered Bastian and Damian to ensure the medical staff made it onto the premises, and they ran out of the room without a word. Then I wrote a group text message to the Knights, telling them to get upstairs with a stretcher. After I got stabbed last year, we started taking precautions. My father had spent millions to have a mobile triage unit. Within minutes, we’d have medical staff on-site if they could get past the armed Albanians still firing shots outside.

I hovered over my brother and Alex, my eyes on her. “Stop touching him. Your grandfather said we have to be careful.”

“Just sit down and shut up.” She pointed at the bed. “Let me take care of Marcello until we can move him.”

Twice in one year. This girl would be the death of the Salvatore men.

I nodded, releasing a deep breath. “As you wish, my queen.”

She held my brother’s hand. “I’m here, Marcello.” Thick tears fell from her eyes. “Don’t leave me, okay? Help is on the way. Stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

A strange emotion tore through my chest again. It hurt watching her show love and affection to Marcello. Nine months ago, she’d tried to kill me and couldn’t have cared less.

Was she accepting her role as our queen? Or had her love for me shifted to Marcello?

As my brother’s eyes snapped shut and Alex screamed his name, I wondered what a better man would do.

40

ALEX

I madea deal with the Devil. And not with the handsome one standing beside me, watching his brother’s life dangle from a string. No, I prayed to the evil lurking within the halls, the monster that lived inside all of us. I’d never believed in a higher power, but I would have gladly sold my soul to the Devil.

Anything to keep Marcello alive.

We’d become close over the past few weeks. The thought of losing another person sliced into my chest, gripping my heart so fiercely that I begged for the pain to stop. I couldn’t handle another death, another loss. Not after what I’d been through in the last year.

I leaned against the wall in the ballroom, thick tears streaming down my cheeks. My legs shook so badly that Luca tried to hold me up, but I pushed him away. He’d done everything in his power to save me from his enemies. The Devil protected me from the demons at our doorstep. But when I was this upset, I craved silence and isolation. Marcello gave me those moments. Let me steal as many as I needed to find comfort.

Marcello has to live.

After the medical response team lifted Marcello onto a stretcher, we followed them downstairs. The Devil’s Knightswere already in the ballroom, helping a group of nurses and doctors assemble a mobile operating room. Within minutes, they transformed the elaborate room into a hospital ward. A plastic curtain hung from poles and stretched around the operating table, creating a clean environment. Well, clean enough, given the situation.

They moved Marcello to an operating table surrounded by beeping monitors and medical equipment. A nurse ran lines to his arms and placed monitors on his chest. Dressed in scrubs, my grandfather stood beside the table, his hand outstretched as a man handed him a scalpel, and then he went to work. The monitors buzzed so loudly that my head pounded. My mind couldn’t process the events of the last hour.

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