Alex was the only person without the last name Salvatore allowed to sit at our table. It was a privilege to eat with us.
Luca slid a tray across the table at Alex, his blue eyes colder than ice. “Eat. I’m not fucking a skinny twig.”
She glanced at the sandwich on the plate and scowled as if he’d poisoned her food. And to my surprise, she pushed the tray at him.
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you paid me.”
All conversation in the room came to a screeching halt. Everyone stared at her, shocked by her outburst.
Luca’s jaw ticked, and he glared at her as if he might reach across the table and snap her neck. I hoped he didn’t because I enjoyed staring at her beautiful face.
“I don’t care if you’re a Wellington.” Luca was out of his chair in seconds. “That name means absolutely nothing to me. In this town, Salvatore is the only name that matters.” He pointed to the space in front of him on the floor. “Get over here.”
She shook her blonde head, curls framing her heart-shaped face. “Dream on.”
Luca rounded the table, nostrils flared. Alex tried to escape, but Luca fisted her hair in his palm and yanked her up from the chair. “Wanna try that again, Wellington whore?”
She elbowed him in the stomach.
My dick was already hard and tenting my slacks.
Alex stomped on Luca’s foot. “I’m not a whore.”
His eyes widened with rage. I couldn’t tell if he was as turned on as I was or if he might kill her in front of everyone.
She didn’t know why he hated her so much. I wondered how she would react when she discovered the truth about her fucked-up family. Knowing her mother murdered Luca and Marcello’s mother would have crushed her spirit.
The great Evangeline Franco was a world-renowned painter and celebrity in the art world. She was also Alex’s favorite artist and idol.
But I hated her.
My adoptive mother despised me. She treated me like trash before her death. The woman didn’t even take the last name Salvatore when she married Arlo.
I didn’t miss her.
She was a bitch.
Eva would have sent Bastian and me to live with someone else if she were still alive. We were parentless and homeless, and Arlo wanted to keep us. They fought over it all the time.
The world believed Evangeline died in a car accident. Which meant Alex did, too. But that was all staged by The Founders Society to cover up the truth.
Alex squirmed, but Luca ignored her and palmed her head until her knees hit the floor. “Kiss my boots like a good little whore.”
On the outside, Luca appeared controlled but was close to losing it.
He wouldn’t touch her.
But he wanted her.
I saw the desire masked as hatred plastered on his face. Wanting her was making him miserable. Since her arrival in Devil’s Creek, he’d been a horrible asshole to all of us.
Alex shook her head. “Never. I did nothing wrong.”
“You exist,” Luca fired back. “That’s enough.”
“Why do you hate me so much?”
“Ask your grandfather.” Luca smirked. “See if he’ll tell you the truth about why you’re really here.”
