Page 57 of The Darkest Prince

“You’ll be safe, Lexie,” Aiden promises. “I’ve got a gun and know how to use it.”

“That’s not as comforting as you may think, Aid.” She sniffs away the tears. “I don’t like guns. And I don’t want one in our apartment.”

“Too bad,” Aiden tells her. “If another slimy Russian breaks in again, I’m shooting him in the skull. End of discussion.”

I like that he’s ride or die for his twin. We don’t see eye-to-eye and have never gotten along, but Aiden isn’t so bad. He will do anything in his power to protect Alex. That makes him alright in my book.

Ignoring her twin, Alex turns to look at Bash and wiggles her fingers. “I need you, Bash. Stay with me.”

Alex has a special attachment to Bastian that she doesn’t share with the rest of us. Even in high school, she clung to him. She thinks he’s thenicerbrother. But she doesn’t know the real Bash, not like I do. He’s different with her.

He takes Alex from Marcello and kisses her head. “I know you’re scared, Cherry. But you need to put your big girl pants on. Stop with the tears.”

She dabs at her cheeks. “I’m just freaked out. I haven’t been this scared since I was a little girl.”

Alex still has PTSD flashbacks and vivid nightmares of her awful childhood. It’s the reason she has to share an apartment with Aiden. If he’s not here to calm her down in the middle of the night, she will need to be hospitalized.

As long as Alex takes her medicine, she’s usually okay. But tonight was too much for her. The threat set her over the edge, and she can’t seem to calm down, no matter what any of us try.

“We have three months left of college,” Bastian continues. “You’ll be so busy working on the paintings for your art show you won’t even notice we’re gone.”

“I’ll be here for your art show,” I tell her.

“So will I,” Marcello adds.

Alex’s eyes illuminate. “How about Luca?”

“I’ll be there,” Luca says, entering the living room as if he materialized out of thin air.

He said he was on his way thirty minutes ago, but he got here at record speed. Dressed impeccably in a black Brioni suit, Luca sits on the couch beside Bash and stares at Alex like he’s ready to devour her.

“I invited a few of my mother’s friends to look at your work,” Luca says in his usual emotionless tone. “They can help launch your art career after graduation.”

Alex hops off Bash’s lap and leans into Luca’s arm. “Really?”

“Yes.” Luca rubs his thumb across her cheek to collect the tears. “But only if you stop crying and act like a queen.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t even know what that means, Luca.”

“It means you need to toughen up. Do you think your life will be easy with me? With any of us?” Luca waits for her to shake her head before he says, “One day, you will be our queen. And we need you to be worthy of that title.”

She has no idea what awaits her a few years from now. Her life is about to change forever.

“Luca,” she coos, curling up against him, and surprisingly, he doesn’t push her away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He places his hand on her lower back and pulls her closer. “One day you will.” With his free hand, he clutches her chin and swipes his thumb across her bottom lip. “One day, you will be mine, Drea. So I need you to learn how to stand on your own two feet. No more running to Bash for hugs. Or crying on Marcello’s shoulder. Queens are powerful. Strong. They don’t look to other people for help.”

“Is this some kind of royalty role-play thing?” Alex laughs, tossing her curls over her shoulder. “Because I’m not following.”

“I swear to God, woman,” Luca hisses. “You drive me fucking crazy. No, we’re not role-playing.”

“Although, I do like the sound of that,” Bash chimes, sliding his hand onto her hip. “I wanna play, baby.”

“Seriously,” Aiden groans. “Do you fucking mind? That’s my sister.” His jaw clenches. “Alex deserves better than this shit. She’s not some toy for you and your brothers to pass around.”

I like that Aiden has a pair of brass balls. But what I don’t like is how he often speaks to my brothers and me with disrespect. Even after all these years of being a Wellington, he still hasn’t lost the trashy attitude.

He doesn’t look like the clean-cut heir to the Wellington fortune his grandfather wants him to be. Instead, Aiden has covered his body with black ink that he never hides. His artwork is plastered all over his body like he’s a living mural. He rarely styles his short, blond curls so they’re kind of a mess. And I have yet to see him in a pair of jeans that aren’t ripped.

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