Page 201 of Kissing the Villain

“Aiden knew your secret, didn’t he? That’s why you guys were friends. You told him how to find The Serpents.”

Marcello nodded. “We did the piece behind the bakery together.”

I lifted my brows. “The one in Beacon Bay?”

“Yeah. It was Aiden’s idea.”

“He showed it to me a few weeks before he disappeared.”

I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and looked up at him. He was so beautiful that I wanted to cry.Lonely Boy. Now, it allmade sense. Artists were natural introverts, content with cutting themselves off from the world.

The loneliness suited him.

I opened my mouth to speak, and he pressed his finger to my lips. “Before you ask about Aiden, I can’t tell you anything. Marry Luca if you want answers.”

“The oath,” I muttered.

He nodded, then lowered his finger, eyes still on me.

“Does your brother know you paint?”

“We talk little,” he confessed, then led me by the hand toward his king-size bed. “Not unless it’s about work, the Knights, or you. He hasn’t been in my room since we were teenagers.”

“I wouldn’t have survived growing up without my brother.” Turning to face him, I moved my hand to his thigh. “Aiden made everything better. The night terrors. All the shit with our parents. That’s why he was so protective of me. Why did he never want Luca near me?”

He sucked in a deep breath.

“Thank you for holding me at night. It helps me get back to sleep.”

“I wish I didn’t have to hear you scream… I don’t know any other way to make the nightmares stop.”

“Aiden did the same thing for me.” I smiled at the thought of my brother. “He had the magic touch.”

He gave me a knowing look.

“I miss him,” I whispered, fighting back the tears. “Every day.”

An awkward silence passed between us.

He looked down at my hand on his thigh. His fingers grazed mine, my skin on fire from his touch.

Our eyes met, and he swiped his thumb across my bottom lip. “You deserve better.”

“Thank you?”

“All of us.” His voice was deep and smooth. “You’re too good for this place. So much like her.”

“Your mom?” I guessed.

Some of my success in the art world came from Luca’s connections. He made a lot of shit happen for me. Despite my feelings for the Salvatores, they had also done a lot of good for me.

“You remind me of her.” He traced a circle on the top of my hand with his finger. “At least what I remember.”

“You and Luca had horrible shit happen to you, too.” I squeezed his hand. “It should have bonded you, not pushed you apart.”

He stared over my shoulder at the wall. “We were never close. And after our mom died, our house was silent. No laughter. No music. Nothing. Just fucking silence. She was the only good thing in our lives. The light in the darkness. Then came the violence. I adapted to my environment.”

“My house was a nightmare,” I told him. “I hated it.”

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