Page 100 of Kissing the Villain

“No one is fighting,” Sonny interjected as he moved to my side.

“And no one is leaving this house,” Drake said with his fiery gaze aimed at Luca.

“Agreed,” I added. “If you have a problem with Drake, you can go.”

Luca’s jaw tightened.

“Whatever you want to say,” I said to Luca. “Save it. We’re all upset about Marcello. You’re only making it worse.”

He studied my face momentarily, a nasty snarl gracing his full lips. Then he shook his head, storming off with Bastian and Damian in tow. They strolled across the open room toward their father.

I stayed with Sonny, Drake, and Cole, the oldest Marshall boys. He was a founder from an old-money military family that lived in a fortress beside the Battles.

“He’ll get over it.” Sonny slid his arm behind my back and pulled me into his chest. “He’s just jealous.”

“He’s never been jealous of Marcello a day in his life. It must be the stress getting to him.”

“No,you’regetting to him,” Drake said with certainty in his tone. “If you choose Marcello over Luca, it will get worse.”

“Marcello is fighting for his life right now,” I pointed out. “That’s all any of us should care about.”

Sonny tapped his fingers on my hipbone, and I melted into his warm embrace. “Marcello is indestructible,” he assured me. “That crazy motherfucker can’t die. Even the Devil himself couldn’t kill him.”

“I hope so,” I breathed.

“He’s right,” Cole offered, giving me an adorable smile that made the dimple on his cheek pop. “Marcello is like a real-life GI Joe. He can withstand just about anything.”

I laughed at his reference because I often considered Marcello my hero. Whenever I needed him, he was always there to save the day.

Drake extended his hand to me. “Let me help you take your mind off things.”

I smiled at his kind offer and slipped my fingers between his. Drake hummed a tune as he led me to the center of the ballroom, far away from the beeping monitors and distress sounds. He lifted me by my hips and set my bare feet on his dress shoes, just like when we danced at the Midsummer Night’s Dream party.

Still dressed in pajamas, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands moved to my hips. The hammering in my chest steadied to a semi-normal beat as he spun me around the floor, helping me block out all the painful shit. When the monitors beeped louder, he hummed a familiar tune.

I lay my head on Drake’s chest. He smelled like cloves mixed with something spicy, and I drank in his delicious scent. Tears spilled from my eyes and onto his shirt. Drake massaged my scalp with his long fingers. He was so gentle and loving, unlike Luca. How did the Knights know how to comfort me? Each of them had a way of calming me down.

“I need him,” I choked out, tears streaming down my cheeks. “He can’t die. He promised me…”

“It’s okay.” Drake cradled the back of my head. “Just let it out.”

“Luca doesn’t get it,” I whispered.

“He’s under a lot of pressure. Luca has until his thirtieth birthday to become the Grand Master of The Devil’s Knights. And you haven’t accepted his proposal.”

“But,” I stammered. “I don’t get it… Nothing will change if we get married. It’s not like he wants me. He only cares about a stupid title, his power, and producing an heir.”

“Everything will change,” he promised. “You will be our queen. That means something in our world.”

“Yeah, I get that, but... Luca still gets what he wants.”

“Queens belong to their subjects,” he countered. “Not the king.”

My eyes widened as the reality of his words rolled over me.

I belong to The Devil’s Knights… and they belong to me.

Words failed me as he spun me around the room, picking up the pace. He was so damn graceful I wondered where he learned these moves. For a big guy, he was light on his feet.

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