Kiss the Villain (Villain #1)

ALEX

He watched me from across the room. The oldest Salvatore brother raked a hand through his black hair, his deep blue eyes locked onto me. All night, Luca stared, but he never spoke a word.

My grandfather had forced me to attend the Salvatores' annual Midsummer Night's Dream party. Everyone from the prestigious coastal community was here. As a Wellington, one of the founding families, I had to play my part.

Luca stood by the bar, flanked by his three younger brothers. He was only a few months older than Bastian and Damian, the two adopted Salvatores, though you'd never know they weren't blood. Marcello, his biological brother, was eighteen months younger but shared the same blue eyes and dark hair.

All four of them studied me like predators stalking prey. Luca and Marcello paid particular attention to my movements. Under their scrutiny, I felt too seen, and I hated the attention.

I slipped through the packed ballroom, trying to blend in with the guests.

My name seemed to hang in the air. People whispered as I passed, rumors spreading across the room like smoke on the wind.

The elite of Devil's Creek offered fake smiles when our gazes met, pretending they weren't talking about me.

"That's Alexandrea Wellington," a blonde woman said.

"Such a beautiful girl," her friend commented. "But I heard she's crazy, just like her mother."

"She's perfect for Luca," another woman said, glancing across the ballroom. "Look at how he watches her. Like he already owns her."

Heat flushed my cheeks. I considered correcting her but held my tongue. Pops had warned me about the nosy townspeople.

"She'll probably run like her mother," a red-haired woman said, flicking her long locks over her shoulder. "The Salvatore men can't keep the Wellington women around long enough to produce an heir."

A pretty blonde in her late forties laughed. "If she's anything like her mother, she won't last until the wedding day."

I strained to hear more, but the loud orchestra music drowned out their voices.

Wedding?

An heir?

What the hell was she talking about?

I searched for my twin, but Aiden had vanished from the bar. Luca was gone, too. This party was dull without Aiden. He was the only reason I survived these stuffy society events.

Head down, I tugged my carnival mask into place and exited the ballroom. Expensive paintings adorned the elaborate walls, everything from Van Gogh to Metzinger. I couldn't resist studying the works of the artists who inspired me. Many critics compared my paintings to those of Metzinger and Evangeline Franco.

As I approached the back of the estate, the voices echoing off the high ceilings grew fainter. I crept up the grand staircase to the third floor. Midway down the hallway, a flash of light emerged from an open door. It was ajar just enough to see a tall, muscular man rip off his suit jacket.

He had black hair, tanned skin, and a black-and-gold masquerade mask pushed up onto his forehead. I should have walked away, but I watched as he stripped off his shirt, dropping the white Oxford and silk tie to the floor.

My mouth fell open. I stared in disbelief at the dozens of scars mapping his back. A gasp ripped from my throat.

It was Luca Salvatore.

He spun around, nostrils flared, and yanked me inside the room. "Why are you up here? Are you spying on me?"

Luca slammed the door, caging me inside his bedroom. He pushed me onto the bed, his eyes traveling over the front of my dress before settling on my face.

"I was looking for my brother."

He stepped between my legs, sliding his fingers beneath my chin to tilt my head back until our eyes met. "Are you lying to me?"

I shook my head.

His thumb grazed my bottom lip. My pulse raced as the scent of sea salt and sandalwood invaded my senses. He smelled so good I wanted to lick his skin, to taste the arrogance on the man who held me captive.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"No. You won't hurt me."

He raised an eyebrow, a wicked smirk tugging at his mouth. "What makes you so certain?"

I bit my lip to stop it from trembling. His face contorted into something sinister.

His eyes dropped to my mouth like he wanted to take my lip between his teeth.

A man like Luca wouldn't give me a sweet kiss or a peck on the cheek.

He would make every second hurt as he branded my lips with his sinful touch.

"Use your words," Luca demanded. "Or I'll punish you for being a bad girl."

"I'm not a bad girl," I shot back, fire behind my words.

"No? Because I think there's a little devil hidden beneath that beautiful exterior." His long fingers inched down my arm, flames scorching my skin. "And I think she wants to come out and play."

Luca inspected my face like he wouldn't be satisfied until he discovered my darkest secrets. A monster lurked in the shadows. He couldn't fool me. I'd known enough evil people to see right through him.

Luca Salvatore didn't care what anyone thought about him.

He wanted people to see the ugliness inside him.

It was easier to push someone away before they got too close than to let them into my life, only to end up disappointed.

After years of having no control, I needed it. And I could tell Luca needed it, too.

"What happened to your back?"

He turned away, his eyes fixed on the balcony to our left. "You don't want to know."

A warm breeze blew in through the French doors that led to a large patio overlooking the bay. His jaw looked even harder from the side, all clean lines and sharp edges. My fingers itched for the chance to sketch every detail of his face.

"Art tells the truth, even when people lie," I said, quoting his deceased mother, Evangeline Franco—a world-famous painter and my idol.

Luca's head snapped to me, heat rushing down my arms from the intensity in his gaze. I couldn't tell if he wanted to kiss me or kill me. Knowing his family, I assumed the latter. They were wealthier than gods, but the Salvatores made their money from illegal activities.

"You don't have to hide from me, Luca."

Standing painfully still, he clenched his fists. I shot up from the bed, and he towered over me, well over six feet tall.

Feeling brave, I placed my hands on his strong shoulders. "Let me see you."

I wasn't talking about the scars on his back. I wanted to know what made Luca Salvatore tick. What were his hopes and dreams, his strengths and his weaknesses? I wondered why my heart beat differently when I looked into his eyes, feeling connected to him in ways I could not explain.

"I see you, too," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "You know what it's like to hide the truth. Don't you?"

"I won't hurt you, Luca."

Something wild flickered in the depths of his blue eyes. "Maybe I want you to."