Shadowed Heart: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (A Death So Sweet Book 1)

by Candace Wondrak

  “The same professional courtesy you gave Mario when you stabbed him?” Vinny said, taking a single step away from the door, scowling. The viper tattoos on his arms and hands looked almost as if they moved in the shadows, like even they wanted to see me hang for my crimes. He did not rush me, did not move any closer besides that one step.

  I said nothing for a while, moving to turn off the lamp. The light flicked off, shrouding the room in nothing but darkness. There were two tall windows on the other side of the room, but the curtains were pulled over them, allowing not even the moonlight to seep through. The room was nothing more than a silent space of blackness, and I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply.

  Would I change what I did last weekend if I knew where it would lead me? A big, fat, resounding no.

  “I know it doesn’t matter to anyone here, least of all to you, since you’re only doing what this family asked of you, but I didn’t go home with just anyone. The Night Slayer chose her victims based on how they acted while they were out in the bars or the clubs.”

  How many men had taken women home before, or gone to their places, and used them up? Sorry not sorry, but to me, there was no place in the world for men like that.

  Hah, listen to me. You’d think I hated men based on my thought processes and my actions, I bet. I kind of did, don’t tell anyone, but that was due to my own baggage and past, both of which were just too awful to get into.

  “Mario might’ve been a member of this family, but he was not a good guy,” I went on. “Now, I’m well aware no one under this roof is a good guy, but there’s something different between a killer and someone who would take advantage of a drunk girl.”

  “What Mario did should’ve been between him and God, not you and your knife.”

  Hmm. I guess I could respect that answer, though a part of me did want to argue that I could be God’s instrument of vengeance.

  I turned around, giving him my back. Reaching behind me, I found the zipper on the dress and tugged it down, loosening the fabric as it went. The dress fell to my feet, nothing but a pile of clothing as I stepped out of it. I had no idea if Vinny was eyeing my mostly-naked body up in the blackness of the room or not; it didn’t matter.

  My parents had always said I was their angel, that I was beautiful, and the more I grew up, the more consequences that came with a face like mine, the more I believed them. Now, I held it as a truth close to my heart. My face, my eyes, my body… I was made to be consumed. To be looked at. To be used.

  That’s all life was about, wasn’t it?

  My heart ached at that thought. Even though I’d come to view it all as true, it still hurt sometimes to think about it. Some days I wondered what it would be like to have been born into a normal family. Minus the wealth and the power, what my parents would’ve been like, what my family would’ve been like. Everything would be so different, the whole nature-versus-nurture thing.

  But I was born a Harding, molded how they wanted, and then I broke that fucking mold and made them regret putting me there in the first place.

  No, tonight was not the night to get wistful.

  I crawled into bed, the sheets cool on my bare skin. I lay on my back, feeling the satiny sheet brush my nipples with every breath I took. My eyes were on the ceiling above me, and I was slow to close them.

  Come whatever may, I’d be ready. The Lucianos might think they had caught some wild thing, someone who’d push against the bars they set up, but I wouldn’t. Might as well try to have a little fun before they killed me, right?

  Suffocating. Stifling. Silent screams all around. Heavy weight pressing down on me, stopping me from running, from getting the fuck out. I couldn’t move, couldn’t shout, couldn’t even cry out to beg for it to stop.

  And, even if I could, it never did. No one ever stopped it. On and on it went like some sick, perverse joke—wasn’t that what it was? A fucking joke? A joke that killed souls and twisted little girls into the monsters they were afraid of.

  But in the beginning, all the little girls were afraid. They didn’t have the power to stop it, didn’t have the voices to shatter the glass surrounding them. How could they when everything in the world tried to keep them silenced?

  Hands all over me, touching me, holding me, a face I wanted nothing more than to forget. How long had it been since I cried? I couldn’t remember. I didn’t want to. Crying was for the weak, and I wasn’t weak, was I? I felt like I was, now.

  This… this wasn’t me. The hands on me were too warm, too hot. They didn’t feel good in any way, didn’t make me sigh out my relief as I gave in. This was not right, but they both turned their heads and let it happen.

  I was their angel, wasn’t I? I was the bright spot in their lives, the girl whose honey-colored hair and Caribbean blue eyes could light up a room. But, no. That wasn’t real. They didn’t want an angel; they only wanted a good girl. A girl who would sit down and shut the fuck up, not raise her voice or try to stop what was inevitable.

  I was not the same weak girl I used to be. I was not the frightened child I once was, and something inside of me snapped. I fought back, fought against the assailing hands and the face looming over me. My body jerked and resisted, nails raking down flesh until…

  Until I heard a swearword that brought me right out of that horrible dream.

  My eyes flew open, seeing nothing but a dark room at first, but then when I sat up, I saw someone leaning over the side of my bed, clutching his cheek. Vinny still stood near the door, which hung open, scowling but not moving closer to help.

  I’d just been a girl in a nightmare, freaking the fuck out.

  Right.

  I wasn’t back in that house, wasn’t trapped and drowning with each passing moment. I was free of those chains, but right now I found myself with another set tight around my ankles—metaphorically, I mean, because currently, there was nothing around my ankles except the smooth sheets above them.

  Sylvester clutched his cheek, his blonde hair a little bit ruffled. His face was too rough, too mature, to belong to the person I’d thought I was fighting against in my dream, and a part of me felt bad that I’d lashed out at him, but then I remembered that this was supposed to be my room, and why the hell would he have thought it was okay to sneak up on me while I was asleep?

  I glared at him. “What the hell?” My tits might’ve been visible to him, but maybe not. The comforter on top of me was one of those super fluffy ones. Either way, he had to know I was next to naked under here, since my dress lay on the floor near his feet. I would’ve come up with something better to say, but my heart raced too much in my chest, an itchy feeling around my neck.

  It honestly didn’t even occur to me that this might be what gets me dead. Oopsie-daisy.

  “I was walking by and heard you,” Sylvester spoke, releasing his cheek to glare at me. For the first time, he looked like that Maddox fellow, his teeth bared, his eyes glazed over in hate. Maybe the good cop, bad cop routine they’d played last night had been more of a bad cop, slightly-less bad cop one.

  The light in the hallway was on, allowing me to see the scratches forming on his cheek. From me. Judging from the light streaming in through the curtains on the window, dawn had arrived.

  “Yes, well, whether I’m crying out like I’m dying or sounding like I’m petting my kitty, I don’t need you to barge in,” I told him, flashing a smile that felt fake, even to me. In the corner of the room, Vinny’s brows creased, as if he was wondering what the hell I’d meant by petting my kitty.

  Think about it. It’ll come to you.

  Sylvester raised his hand, and for a moment, I could’ve sworn he was going to hit me, but then, in the most anticlimactic gesture ever, he simply ran that hand through his hair as he straightened his back. “Yes, well, I’ll keep that in mind next time,” he said, no longer looking as if he wanted to kill me.

  Pity.

  From where he now stood, it was blatantly obvious he could see my upper half above the comforter, and he made no move
s to hide how he checked me out, nor did I scoot further under the covers.

  Me and the word modest didn’t go together. I’d been born not knowing the word, so I let him stare, waiting for him to either leave or say whatever else was on his mind. What he asked next stunned me into silence for a little while.

  “What size are you?”

  When I got over how random that was, I said, “What?”

  “What size clothes do you wear? What size, um…” He pointed to my tits, unabashed at staring but somehow unable to say the word bra. Sylvester was a bit of an oddball, apparently. “My father wants to put you to work immediately, to see what you’re capable of, and you won’t walk the streets with us wearing that,” he spoke of my dress as if it was something a prostitute would wear.

  There was nothing wrong with that dress. I rather liked it.

  “Too trashy for the Lucianos?” I asked, mocking only a little. Didn’t know why it would be trashy to them; I bet they liked their girls wearing next to nothing as often as possible and constantly on their knees.

  Like, don’t play with this gal, boys. She’s too smart for that shit.

  Still, I couldn’t wear that dress day in and day out. I did need new clothes, along with new underwear and, yes, bras. My tits were too big to let them dangle around constantly. And if I was put to work? Say I got in a fight? They’d be swinging around all over the place. Although, maybe that would make for a good distraction… But, regardless, I figured I’d draw too much attention to myself here walking around naked, anyway.

  I told him, and he said nothing else, walking out, leaving my door open as he went.

  Meeting gazes with Vinny, I gave him a smile. “So, what is there to do for fun in this house?”

  Turned out, not much. It was basically a huge ass house with tons of rooms that seemed quite pointless to me. I did find a room with a flat-screen TV that was probably a good eighty or so inches, and since I was tired of walking around aimlessly with Mike as my shadow—Vinny and him had traded off after I showered in my designated bathroom—I plopped down on one of the dark sectionals facing it and took a load off my feet.

  I could go for some food, but I hated cooking, honestly. I’d rather just not, you know? I highly doubted they had pizza rolls here, anyway. Those delicious, tiny things… I never had them growing up, which was probably why I was so obsessed with them now.

  It was too late to watch the morning news, closer to midday now than morning, so I flipped until I found some celebrity daytime talk show. They were talking about the latest Bachelor and Bachelorette drama, and, not gonna lie, I was a sucker for that shit.

  Like, to have a girl dating over twenty men at the same time? Just think of all the dicks she had at her disposal. The variety, too. Black, white, Asian, every color of the rainbow. Short, tall, nerds and jocks. Seriously, a sprinkling of everything. If I was the Bachelorette, I’d say, fuck it, who wants to leave this mansion and come home with me for an orgy or two?

  I’d never had an orgy—never had the opportunity, since my younger years were spent doing other things I didn’t want to think about—but they sure sounded fun, didn’t they?

  All those dicks, flying around, maybe even doing a little bit of crossing. All of those mouths and hands all over the place… oh, yeah, I was getting a little hot and bothered thinking about it.

  Right when I was debating whether to go back to my room and, as they say, flick the bean, someone else walked into the lounge, someone I didn’t recognize from last night. At least five years older than me, wearing dark pants and a dark grey shirt, the man didn’t remind me of Maddox or Sylvester. His hair was a dusty brown, his eyes a vivid green. Handsome, but a little thin.

  I could probably take him down, although, if given the right tools and the element of surprise, I could take just about anyone down.

  Was I conceited? Eh, maybe a wee bit, but a gal had to know what she was good at in this world. If you didn’t know what you were good at, what your strengths were, the world just might walk all over you. No fucking thanks.

  He froze when he saw me, blinking half a dozen times as if that would suddenly make me disappear. He turned those green eyes to Mike, who said nothing in return. The newcomer opened his mouth and asked in a hushed voice, “Is that her?” Everybody must’ve heard about me by now, what I did, how this family planned on using me.

  It’s all good. You know what they say—whatever floats your boat.

  “She’s right here,” I chimed in, causing both Mike and the newcomer to look at me, “and she can answer your questions herself.” I reclined back on the couch, lifting my legs and laying them on the cushion beside me. My low-cut, red dress clung to my body, leaving next to nothing to the imagination.

  The newcomer gave a lingering look to Mike, who just shrugged, his way of saying to go ahead. After all, it wasn’t like I was doing anything. Why not chat with this stranger? He wasn’t nearly as handsome as Sylvester, nor was he as dangerously sexy as Maddox. I’d say even Vinny and Mike had it better than him when it came to the department of looks, but who was I to judge based on looks alone?

  Oh, wait. That’s right. The world judged me every single fucking day because of my looks, so I made damned sure I did the same as often as I could.

  Cynical, me? Yeah, you might say that.

  He moved to sit on the same couch as me, though he did leave some space between us, or, rather, between my bare feet and him. I couldn’t help but wonder how close he would’ve gotten if I wasn’t sprawled out like a spider in red. He studied me, his lips drawn in a thin line. “You’re not what I expected,” he said, leaning back and stretching both arms on the couch cushions behind him.

  “And what did you expect I’d be?” I cocked my head as I asked, curious in spite of myself.

  His green eyes dipped low to my chest, and then even lower to my thighs, where my dress ended. “You look like one of Roman’s favorites at the Dollhouse, not a killer.” I wasn’t sure what the Dollhouse was, whether it was meant to be a compliment or not, but I chose to take it as one.

  “If I looked like a killer, I doubt I’d actually be one,” I said, shrugging once. “You know, it’s a lot easier for a girl like me to get the upper hand when the guys are only thinking with their dicks.” Crass but totally true. “Speaking of…” I swung my legs off the couch, sitting up, inching closer to him. “How’s yours?”

  What could I say? I guess those thoughts of orgies still hung in the back of my mind.

  “You don’t even know who I am,” he said, as if that mattered. As if I gave a shit about who he was or what his name was. Here’s a hint: I didn’t. And, anyway, it was better when names weren’t involved. Names tended to come with other things, like memories and feelings and all that shit, and I couldn’t handle that kind of seriousness.

  Want another tip? No one could take it from you if you gave it out freely.

  “Does it matter?” I asked, now sitting beside him, running a hand along his chest. Thin, but he was firm beneath his shirt. Lean. I knew better by now than to judge a man’s dick before seeing it. Sometimes the short guys could whip out monster cocks, thick and long enough to choke you out better than their hands ever could.

  He chuckled. “Tony,” he said, and he did not pull away from me.

  “Lola,” I told him. “There, now that we’re acquainted, maybe those pants should come off.” Coming onto a man I’d literally met a few moments ago? Desperate, but then again, sometimes you got an itch only a hard cock could scratch, and I was not a picky gal. I’d learned years ago that just because you didn’t want something didn’t mean you wouldn’t get it.

  You got it anyway, and you were miserable the entire time, so why not win the race before it began and want it all?

  He flashed a grin at me, and it was the most charming and disarming smile I think I’d ever seen. Okay, so he was cute. Fine. “Is this how you normally work? Is this how you got Mario?”

  Ugh. Why the hell was everyone so content with bring
ing Dickless up over and over? Like, yeah, sure, he was a part of their family, but come on. Maybe it was because I grew up in literally the shittiest family ever, but I didn’t understand the obsession. Like, the bitch was dead, so get over it, mmkay?

  I responded by swinging myself over him, straddling his lap. My dress bunched up to my hips, revealing the black lacy panties underneath. Setting my hands on his shoulders, I gave him a smile. “Does it matter?” I murmured, biting my bottom lip. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t have killing on the brain right now—just fucking.” If ever there was a more brutally honest chick, I hadn’t met her.

  Not sure I would want to, honestly.

  He grinned again, his hands snaking up my sides, parts of him holding onto the dress and parts of him touching my bare skin. “You’re a wild one, aren’t you?” Tony whispered, his eyelids falling just a bit.

  And that’s when I knew I had him.

  Really, it wasn’t hard to play a man. When you looked like me, it came easily. Don’t feel bad for this one, though, because unlike Dickless, I wasn’t going to stab him in the throat and watch him bleed out. I really did just want the D.

  I never broke eye contact with him, gazing into his eyes as one of my hands dipped lower on his chest, dragging down along him until I reached his belt, which I undid in a hurry. I paid no attention to the giant standing in the corner; he could watch. As far as I was concerned right now, he didn’t exist. It was just me and Tony, whoever the fuck he was.

  Within a moment, I had a hand down his pants, gripping his dick. It was getting harder by the moment, and after a few strokes, it was more than an acceptable length. Not a monster, but enough to satisfy me.

  I was about to yank my hand off him and tug my panties to the side and ride him hard and fast right there, but the expression Tony wore changed. A new hand gripped the back of my neck, squeezing hard as he heaved me off him, throwing me on the other side of the couch. I looked up at the scowling Maddox.

  But he paid me no attention, his glare on Tony. “Get the fuck out of here,” he commanded, and like a good dog, Tony got up and hurried away as he adjusted his dick in his pants and fixed his belt.