Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken (80 page)

Stumbling back from Adrien, she looked between her siblings.

“You all treated me like shit. You should be apologizing to me!” She hit her hand on her chest. “You should be begging me. None of you ever loved me …” She frowned, letting her words trail off as she looked over to Abrielle. “Except her,” she pointed to her. “You loved me.” She closed the distance between her and Abrielle. “We loved each other.”

Abrielle was nodding her head frantically, eyes so much like Anastacia’s own weeping, and pleading the way that Anastacia wanted them to.

“Yes,” she smiled, cupping Abrielle’s face when she finally made it to her. “We did love each other, sister.”

Gently, Anastacia caressed Abrielle’s face, staring into her eyes with love that was far from real, and she waited. Waited for what she knew would come. She waited for Abrielle’s hope. She waited for the woman to think that she would be spared, and the moment she saw it in her eyes the smile she wore vanished … And confusion replaced the hope in Abrielle’s eyes.

“You betrayed me,” Anastacia whispered, her hands tightening on Abrielle’s face. “And then you hurt my son.”

That trigger was immediate, and Anastacia saw the drastic change in her eyes.

Only moments before, she’d been crying, and begging Anastacia to spare her, and now. So much rage. So much resentment.

“You are crazy, aren’t you?” Anastacia frowned, looking deeply into the woman’s feral eyes. “Are you angry?” she asked. “Angry because he’s my son?”

Abrielle jerked forward, pulling against her restraints.

Anastacia blinked. “But he is my son.”

Abrielle screamed this time, once again pulling forcefully against the restraints that held her to the bed. It was fascinating. But even more than that; it was fucking infuriating.

Anastacia felt her blood boil. It was like a fucking engine roaring to life.

“Are you angry?” she asked her sister, nodding her head when the woman began spewing words from behind the tape covering her mouth. Sighing, she took a step back. “Let her loose.” She motioned toward her men, then waited for them to do as she asked.

It didn’t take them long. They came forward and began removing the restraint from Abrielle’s arms, legs, and body, one by one until she was free. Once free, she stood there, looking around as if expecting someone to tackle her to the ground.

“Give her a nice,” Anastacia ordered her men. “A nice big one.”

When Abrielle looked at her with confusion painted across her face, Anastacia gave her a wink.

“Don’t be scared.” She told her sister. “I won’t have a weapon. Only you.”

That was because Anastacia didn’t need a fucking weapon. Whenever she was ready to kill the bitch, she’d just take the knife from her.

“Go ahead,” she waved for her to come closer. “Cut me.”

Abrielle didn’t move a muscle.

“Don’t be afraid now, Bri.” Anastacia waved her over again. “Come get me,” she challenged. “Show me what you did to my son.”

“He’s my son,” she whispered, her words barely audible, Anastacia couldn’t hear them.

“Come again,” she taunted the woman. “Speak up, Bri. I didn’t hear you. What did you say about my son?”

That did the trick.

The bitch screamed. “
Vi maledicono!
Shut your mouth, evil bitch! He is my son!”

Eyes darkening with rage, Anastacia took a step forward. “You hate me, don’t you?” she asked the woman, that sadistic excitement once again shining bright in her eyes. “Is it because of what I did to you?” She cocked her head to side in question, chuckling when Abrielle’s eyes widened. “Are you still angry with me? Is that why you put your sick, filthy fucking hands on my son.”

“My son!”

Anastacia rushed her, hooking her arm around the woman’s body, bring her body against her own in a tight hold. She gripped on to the hand that Abrielle held the knife with between them, and squeezed as tightly as her strength would allow, crushing the woman’s hand into the metal handle of the blade.

“He’s my son, you bitch!” she spat through clenched teeth, settling comfortably in the state of rage that she loved so much.

Abrielle fought against her, trying with all she had to move the knife between them, but Anastacia wouldn’t allow it. She effortlessly maneuvered the blade, turning it back in Abrielle’s direction every time the woman tried to push it into her.

Abrielle gave up with a scream, falling to her knees in front of Anastacia.

“Please, Ana, please!” she cried. “I’m sorry. I was sick! I didn’t want to hurt him. I was—Ahh!”

A screech of agony tore through Abrielle’s throat when Anastacia slashed the knife across her face. She fell to the floor, holding her wound, then looked back at Anastacia right as she came again. Then again. And again. And over and over Anastacia dragged the knife over Abrielle’s back, chest, arms, legs, and face in quick precise slashes. She just kept going, and going until fatigue set in, forcing her to stop and come up for air.

Standing up straight, Anastacia took a step back, then spit on Abrielle’s shaking body.

“Fucking bitch,” she breathed, running her hand through her long hair as she walked away from the woman. “Don’t you fucking die either!” she shot. “I won’t be done with you for a while …”

All had gone quiet from her other siblings, and Anastacia understood why. If she were in their position, she wouldn't talk after what she’d just seen either. But they were safe … at least from her they were. Anastacia was expecting the woman they had to fear to arrive right about …

She smiled, the moment her daughter rounded the corner, dressed so stunningly in the short yellow dress that Anastacia had told her to wear.

She came strutting into the room barefoot, hair straight and flowing down her back, and the gold knife that Anastacia had gotten from her father when he’d been lying in his death bed, tight in her hand, hanging at her side. She was the picture of perfection. The exact identical of Anastacia when she was a teen … Sixteen to be exact. The year her father died, and her so-called family threw her out on the streets.

“My baby,” she whispered.

And Carterina looked over to her, giving her a smile so similar to the one she’d had when her face was still as innocent.

“My daughter,” she told her sibling, even as her eyes filled with tears at the sight of her. “Isn’t she perfect …” She walked over to Carter, kissing her on the cheek and whispering thank you, before allowing Anastacia to turn her to face the three siblings still standing. “Look at her,” she told them. “Do you all remember this dress?”

It had been her favorite one to wear. One of the only dresses she’d had left of her mother’s.

She looked over too her siblings wanting to see if they were as mesmerized by Carterina as she was, but they all just seemed … terrified. Shocked. Their faces were pale, and tears poured from their eyes. Even Adrien had begun to cower. It was disappointing, but expected, so Anastacia just continued.

“My beautiful daughter has offered to help me,” she explained, leaving Carter to stand in front of Adrien, Annette, Adalene as she made her way back over to the couch. “Someone get Abrielle off of the floor,” she ordered her men, then took her seat. “Take her to my doctor and patch her up … If you let her die. I will torture you in her place.”

Nodding, the men did as she said, leaving her to turn her focus back to the task at hand.

“Now as I was saying,” she smiled. “My daughter has offered to help me fulfill a dream of mine, that I’ve been waiting a long time to witness.” She sighed. “For a long time, I thought I would never have this. I had thought I’d have to let the dream die … But then.” She looked to her daughter. “God gave me back my baby.” Then she looked back at them, wiping the tears that fell from her eyes. “Then he finally gave me all of you. And now … I can realize my dream …”

Anastacia sat back on the couch, wiping Abrielle’s blood on her hands on the surface of her dress. She pulled her knees on to the couch and settled in for the show.

“Ever since the day that you all, and that bitch mother of yours, threw me out of my father’s house, with nothing but …” she pointed to Carter. “That dress …” she smiled. “I’ve wanted to watch myself, at sixteen years old, torture all of you to death—”

The screeching cries of fear and agony rang out as soon as Carter took her first step toward them.

Anastacia watched, seeing red as their blood painted the warehouse floor. It was art. This was art. The art of revenge in it sweetest form. Far too complex for even the greatest of artists to capture with the stroke of a brush …

The End … For now.

Dangerous Beauty: Part One: Destiny

Dangerous Beauty: Part Two: A Mafia Princess

Dangerous Beauty: Part Three: This Is War

Loving Kyla

Available Now!

Who is Marco Rios?

Most would say guys like him are only good at one thing… breaking hearts. By day, he’s a tattoo artist who took the plunge and started his own business, but by night… he’ll be whoever you want him to be—a wet dream in the flesh.

Brynn Palmer was content, enjoying her low-key life, one that rarely sprouted surprises. That is, until she crossed paths with the force better known as Marco.

It was only one night, but that one night changed everything.

~

*To the guys,
Indecent Exposure
is more than just their place of business; it’s a place where they make women’s fantasies come true… and have a ton of fun doing it. “Marco” is the first standalone in “
The Men of Indecent Exposure”
series, so kick back and enjoy, but don’t get too comfortable; you never know when you’ll need to have your singles ready!*

*AUTHOR NOTE: MARCO is a full-length (over 130,000 words), standalone novel with an HEA and no cliffhanger.

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Born and raised in Missouri, I am a dreamer with an active imagination. I am in my 20's and have a bachelor's degree in Psychology. My dream is to one day make a mark in this world. I have a big heart, and even bigger smile, and I love to read a good story. A perfect evening for me would include a glass of wine, chocolate, and a romance novel on my kindle. I have an overactive imagination and enjoy putting together a good story with raw emotion and shocking secrets. Best way to stay updated on my new releases is to follow my Amazon page. Thank you for your interest in my work.
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