by Rose Harper
You never take your attention off your prey because they may very well become the predator.
Reaching down, I grab his thumb, dislocating it. It causes his hold on me to lessen as a cry of pain slips free from his surprised lips. Using both my legs, I bring them forward. With as much force as I can muster, I kick him off me and onto the floor. The loud thud of his body hitting the carpet reaches my ears, and I’m already up off the bed, going for the weapons Mateo keeps stashed in his bedside table.
Pulling open the drawer, I spy a switchblade lying inside, and a smile spreads across my lips. Perfect. I always did love up close and personal kills.
“Fuck!” Jake bellows, gagging as he hunches over on the bed.
Turning toward them both, I meet the terrified eyes of Liam as he sprawls out on the floor. But I don’t let his fearful gaze get to me. They brought this on themselves, and I’m going to relish the blood I’m about to spill.
My entire body goes numb, slipping into the persona I’ve perfected over the years. I stalk toward him, and he tries to crawl away from me, but it’s no use. I have them both in my sights, and they’re going to pay.
Leaping on top of him, a strangled cry falls from my lips as I rear back, thrusting the knife into his chest with every ounce of strength I have. The sickening sound of bone crunching hits my ears at the same time his blood sprays over my hands. His cry reverberates off the walls, the sound sweeter than the finest wine. It’s refreshing against my palate and only makes me salivate for more.
His eyes are wide, expression one of shock. “Go. To. Hell.”
I keep repeating that act over and over, thrust after thrust—like he did when he was inside of me. The hunger for blood overtakes me, guiding my actions as I stick the knife in his chest and drag it down to his sternum. Bone, muscle, and organs make it hard to move the knife as smoothly as I wish, but it’s nothing I haven’t done before, nor is it something I haven’t been prepared for. It just makes it that much more enjoyable.
Blood oozes along the front of his body as he lies there lifeless on the floor at my feet. Crimson starts spreading on the carpet beneath his prone figure, but to me, it’s the proof of my work. It’s like a beautiful piece of art I’m crafting, hoping other eyes can relish the tantalizing sight as I am. The red flourish against the cream-colored downy carpeting teases the beast inside me. I release a breath that feels like it’s been caught in my lungs for ages, relishing the burn. Dragging in each lungful, the air filled with the sweet stench of Liam’s death, is like an aphrodisiac to my senses.
The sound of a piercing wail brings me back to the man still hunched on top of the bed. His eyes meet mine, widening as they flick to the man lying on the floor between my spread thighs. Bringing his gaze back to mine, I see fear swimming in his irises.
Slowly craning my neck to the side, my eyes burn into his very soul as I grab the dick of my rapist, slicing the knife right through the offending appendage. It slips away easily enough, landing heavily in my hand. The side of my lips tilt up in a maniacal smile as all the blood drains from his face and it takes on a hint of green as if he’s about to be sick.
“It’s your turn,” I singsong, my voice having changed—becoming deeper, raspier.
Scrambling off the bed, his hand covers his crotch as he takes off for the door at breakneck speeds. The scent of horror left in his wake is more than enough to have me rising to my feet, ready for more. More bloodshed. More cries and pleas for me to stop.
He can run all he wants, but I will find him. And for his sake, he better know the password to the security system or the front door won’t open for him. It’s a security measure Mateo put in after the shooting that claimed Vinny’s life.
Oh, how I hope he doesn’t have the code. The beast inside purrs at the thought—appeased with the vision of him lying in pieces around me.
Stretching, I feel the ache of where Liam was just moments before. It should frighten me that I’m numb to the hatred, pain, and agony swirling through my body. But all it brings is a serene, contented smile to my face.
With my knife in one hand and Liam’s cock in the other, I start whistling a haunting tune as I walk out of mine and Mateo’s room, searching for my next victim. The scent of blood fills the air, surrounding my naked body as a feeling of rightness envelops me. This, right here, is what it means to live.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I taunt, allowing a sadistic smile to spread across my face before returning to humming the melancholy tune once more.
Today feels like a good day to kill.
It’s hours before I finally come out of it enough to register the sights and sounds around me. There’s no more of that bloodthirsty craze traveling through my body. No more of that haziness that I had when Liam was on top of me. Only a peace I haven’t felt in quite some time. A peace that resonates deep within the very marrow of my body.
The sound of men yelling, vehicles screeching to a halt register with me. But for the life of me, I can’t stop humming that tune or glancing around at the catastrophe that’s spread all around me.
Body parts lie haphazardly over almost every available surface of the foyer, Mateo’s valuable décor drenched in the blood of the man who thought he could wrong me and get away with it.
Everything is ruined; blood already staining the cloth of the bench resting next to the front door. There’s blood already dried, crusting over the sconces, walls, and sterling silver decorations Mateo prided himself on having. He’s going to be so pissed that I wrecked his house. But at the thought of that, I can’t bring myself to care. The only thing I care about is the peace I feel—the rightness.
The front door bangs open, bringing with it the menacing men who left me here to my own devices. The echoing shouts pierce the stagnant, coppery air as I stare blankly in front of me. It isn’t until I hear Dom’s voice that I break out of my trance, but only just briefly before it sucks me back under.
“What the fuck?!” His words bounce off the walls as I see all the men stare around them in shock before their eyes settle on me as I sit Indian style at the bottom of the steps as naked as the day is long.
I expect Mateo to step through the door, see what I did to the place, and start on his round of angry ranting. But he doesn’t. Instead, Giovanni closes the door behind him, which causes my head to tilt to the side in confusion. Why isn’t he leaving the door open for his brother?
“Carina?” he asks, slowly treading closer.
The sound of a door down the hall opening then closing catches my attention, but I can’t be bothered to turn my head in that direction. Instead, I keep my eyes trained ahead, watching all the men gape at me while I hold my two souvenirs in my hands. The cocks of my rapists.
The loud tapping of soft-soled shoes echoes off the walls, then comes to a complete halt as I see Luca from my peripheral stare down at me in shock, as if I’m the one who lost my mind and not the men who thought they could take what I didn’t freely give them permission to have.
“The fuck happened in here?” he inquires, perplexed.
“That’s what we would like to know,” Lucio sounds out, his voice deepened with intrigue.
Bringing my eyes to Luca’s, I see him stare down at the two pieces of meat in my hands. His mouth falls open in shock as his eyes return to mine, widening marginally.
“Carina, what did you do?”
I keep humming, reveling in the blood that taints my fingertips. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything as magnificent as this. The feeling of their heartbeat pulsating slower and slower as I held their lives in my hands. The sweetness of the blood that covered a majority of the otherwise sanitary master bedroom.
Their cries.
Their pleas.
I could practically taste their fear on my tongue, and it was so sweet … so addictive.
He warily steps closer to me, but the men balk at his movement. “Don’t go near her,” Dom replies frantically.
“You don’t think I know wh
at I’m doing?” Luca fumes, growling.
Treading closer, his shadow falls over me, which causes me to raise my eyes to him, a placated smile resting on my swollen, battered lips. I see a look of worry pass over his eyes before he smiles down at me.
Dropping down into a crouch, he looks over my nakedness as he eyes me up and down for any sign of wounds that he may not be able to see on a quick pass over. “Are you okay?”
“Mmm, they thought they could get away with it. Oh, how wrong they were,” I release, giggling.
“Who? Carina, what happened?” he asks.
Humming, I go back to staring at the blood coating the two dicks in my hands. My thumb rubs against them, melding it into the soft, velvety skin. It’s partially dry, but that doesn’t stop me from wiggling my fingers, watching the light from the entryway glint off the flecks of red cracking and breaking off.
“Oh, those bodyguards of Mateo,” I say, releasing a contented sigh. “They took something that wasn’t theirs to have. They did a very, very bad thing.”
“Princess, you’re not making any sense,” Luca whispers, reaching for the souvenirs in my hands.
Snatching them back, my jaw tics with anger as I clutch them to me tighter. With a slight nod in understanding, he doesn’t try to take them from me again, which causes a small smile to tug at my lips as I drop my gaze to my lap. The front of my body is coated in their blood, some places cracking and breaking off with the amount of time it’s been since I slaughtered both of them.
Meeting his eyes, the look in mine causes him to stiffen, instantly on alert. “They took something I didn’t want them to, just like him. Only bad, bad men do something like that. Now, they’re …” I sigh, a serene smile quickly falling over my lips, and just as quickly, it’s gone. “No more.” Placing my souvenirs down at my sides on the stairs, I bring my gaze back up to his.
“Carina … I, uh … I only see one person here,” he says. “Did you kill them both, princess?”
Rearing my head back, I cackle with maniacal laughter. The men all shuffle from foot to foot around me, clearly uneasy by seeing me come so unglued. But I can’t be bothered. This is the real me, so they need to get used to it. “Among other things, dear brother.”
I knew this was the way it was going to end when Liam came into the bathroom while I was showering. Then when Jake joined him, it solidified in my mind that I had to make an example out of them. To show people that you don’t fuck with someone like me. Especially when I’m so close to shredding all control. They made the mistake, but I can guarantee no one else will again.
“I believe she’s going to be fine, but I’d really suggest not pissing her off for a little bit, though. She may deem you as a threat and retaliate,” Luca says, shuffling away from me.
Giovanni chokes, but forces out his next words, “Then she’s really not going to like what we have to tell her.”
What’s he talking about? Why is he looking at me like he’s … guilty?
5
MATEO
She’s kept me down here for God knows how long. Enough time that I’ve fallen asleep three times since she left in a fit of fury, unable to get a rise out of me like she intended. To say I’ve had my fill of this shit is an understatement.
My cup runneth over.
I want to get back to my life. My brothers. Carina.
I don’t want to deal with this mess, which is exactly what Camille is. A complete and total clusterfuck. If I could go back in time, I’d put her to stepping the minute she walked into my familia’s restaurant all those months ago. I’d turn her away, just like my father bid me to do when I refused him, thinking myself better than him.
And now, I’m paying the price for my selfish actions. For choosing a slit over what’s really important in life. Familia. They are what I needed to be focused on—not Camille and her devious, treacherous ways. They are the people I needed to lean on in my times of weakness.
Still, now that I’ve made my bed, I must lie in it. I must take responsibility for my actions, and the actions of those under my watchful authority. That is what makes a great leader, right? The fact they can admit when they’re wrong and start piecing together whatever it is they shattered.
I try to pride myself on being the leader my grandfather talked about me becoming when I was younger. The stories he would go on and on about, reveling in his glory days of running the familia. He made it sound so majestic, thrilling. But now that the shoe is on the other foot, I can see it for what it really is. A dark, endless void of nothing but hatred, monarchy, and ruling with an iron fist.
It’s nothing like I thought it would be. Yes, I knew it was going to be tough. Because nothing in this life worth having comes easily. You have to work at it, fine-tune your machine before it will run properly.
That’s where I failed. I didn’t fine-tune anything. Instead, I permitted dust, grime, and grit to coat the surface, not allowing me to see the cracks that began to trek across the surface of our stronghold.
I just want to know why she’s doing this. Besides rejecting her that once, she had nothing to harbor against me. I treated her with the utmost respect and dignity. Even better than my intended wife when Carina came to live at my residence. I never hit her, called her out—never made her do half the deplorable things I made Carina do.
Yet, I now find myself tied to a goddamn chair, without food in a dank cell of a room with only one cracked, barred window as my sundial. The sun has risen and set three different times since I’ve been here, which leads me to believe—if I can go by my exhausted eyes—that I’ve been in here for three long, desolate days with no nourishment to speak of.
The only reason any type of water has entered my body is because of a drain underneath the house. It runs along the entirety of the foundation and has been leaking since I woke up that first time.
It was doing its own version of Chinese torture, dripping on my head every so often, like clockwork. So, I took advantage. No matter how degrading or disgusting the water felt sliding down my parched throat, I knew I needed the sustenance.
Reclining my head, my gag reflex turns full circle when that foul-tasting stuff hits my tongue. It’s metallic. Dirty. Yet, it doesn’t bother me as much as sitting in this chair defecating on myself does. The degradation she’s putting me through at the cost of my sanity is almost torture on its own.
Camille has no idea that each infraction against me will cost her that pound of flesh I plan to take out of her. I don’t care if she is a woman—the fairer sex we’re supposed to uphold. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy ripping her apart. The need to drain her body of its life essence is too much to withstand. So much so, that if I ever get out of these ropes, I’m going to bathe in her goddamn blood.
Tugging on the ropes once more, I barely refrain from wincing as the harsh braided material rubs against my raw wrists. The stench of feces, blood, and sweat linger in the air as I force myself to focus through the pain. I need to at least try to get out of this, even if all attempts thus far have been made in vain.
My fists ball up of their own accord. My nostrils flare; my jaw turns rigid as I fight to keep the bellow of pain from tumbling from my lips. I continue to jerk, twist, and pull on the ropes. Blood coats the offending material, taking flecks of skin as penance for trying to gain freedom.
Except, nothing I do will get them to budge. They’re unforgiving in their quest of keeping me at bay. What I wouldn’t give to be able to get ahold of Camille right now. The things I would do to her; the pain I would cause. I’d relish the sounds of her screams as they pierce the night air, begging for me to put an end to her torture.
But I would never stop. Would never be able to force myself to keep from extracting my vengeance from her milky white skin. I’d litter her with so many welts, cuts, and abrasions, there would be nothing more she could do except submit before I took her life.
The thoughts of her on her knees, begging to be set free, cause my cock to harden inside my dress pants. It’
s not the fact I’m attracted to her—that ship sailed long ago. It’s the fact her pain would be my pleasure. Her death—my rebirth.
When the effort becomes too much, my muscles unfurl, relaxing. I slump against the back of the chair, nearly making myself sick as the change in position causes fumes of my excrements to sting the inside of my nostrils. It does nothing but fans the fury I have inside for her. Fan the thoughts of killing her to resume once more.
A light creak at the top of the stairs has my attention within milliseconds of hearing it. It’s faint; almost too quiet to be chalked up to anything more than the foundation of the house settling, but I know better. The moment my eyes land on the steps, I can’t stop them from narrowing in turn.
Freshly showered. Naked. Drinking a bottle of crisp, clear water—is Camille. She has a smug look resting on her face. Her blonde hair hangs down to her waist in fat, wet curls. Her skin shines a rosy glow from being freshly scrubbed. She’s content, beyond happy with the sight in front of her. Just seeing her, knowing what she’s able to do that I can’t, nearly causes me to lose it.
“Are you ready to beg?” she taunts, smiling.
I stay silent, only narrowing my eyes further.
“The faster you beg, the faster I’ll let you out of those ropes you find yourself in.” Even though she doesn’t voice it, I know the only way I’m getting out of these binds is through a pine box. I can hear the eeriness in her voice, taste my impending death on the tip of my tongue. If that’s what she’s waiting for, she’s going to be disappointed. I’ll never beg for my life. If that’s what she wanted, she took the wrong person.
She may as well do what she brought me here to do because I refuse to debase myself like that to someone like her. The only—and I do mean only—woman that I would beg anything from is the one who’s more than likely shitting kittens claws first right now because of my disappearance.
Thinking of Carina causes a pang to twist inside my chest. It feels like a dagger piercing through the skin, shoving itself between my ribcage and twisting so it can do the maximum amount of damage. It stings to know she could be in agony right now. And all because this little girl wanted to play little ninja assassin or some shit.
