Violent Heart: A Dark Reverse Harem (A Death So Sweet Book 3) Read online

  Perfect. She really was perfect, and I wasn’t the type of guy to just say something like that without meaning it.

  “Hey,” I whispered to her, my one hand squeezing hers as my other reached up to her face, running along her jawline. “You did what you had to. There’s no shame in that.” She looked as if she wanted to argue with me, so the fingers on her jaw swept back to her hair, clutching her scalp roughly.

  I brought my lips to hers, crashing our mouths together in a way that drowned out whatever she would’ve said. I ate up her moans and breathed in her air. Everything she was, everything she would be; I wanted to be there to see it.

  That shut her up, good.

  The mask slid off her lap as she reached for me, tugging at my shirt, trying to get me closer to her. Being in a car, it wasn’t the best position, but we made do. We passed the time as Sylvester drove, greedy hands and mouths. No clothes came off, unfortunately, but I think that was because, even with my skillful tongue in her mouth, she couldn’t take her mind off what was to come.

  Her brother’s comeuppance. Finally, after all these years, that fucker was going to get what he deserved.

  We arrived at the Grand Hotel soon enough, and Sylvester pulled the car up to its doors, turning around to face us. “Go on,” he said. “Wait for me inside. I’ll park the car somewhere discreet.”

  Lola and I got out of the back, her slender fingers picking up the mask that had fallen to the floor on her way. Her lips were a bit bruised and puffy from our embrace, and I couldn’t help but smile down at her, a feeling of smug satisfaction in me. This girl was mine. Her craziness was mine. Everything she was was mine, and she was about to face down the devil that haunted her dreams—and I’d be right there with her.

  Together, we went inside the Grand Hotel, its glass doors hardly hiding how fancy and uptight the whole place was. It was probably the fanciest place in the city, minus a few of the clubs. Everything was bright and gaudy, and I hated it. I much preferred darker colors.

  Night had fallen outside a few hours ago, but the main lobby of the hotel was still busy. People walking out, people walking in, people checking in; there was no shortage of people here, and I corralled us off to the side of it, out of everyone’s way, while we waited for Sylvester to park.

  We stood near a stand of brochures, things to do in the city. Lola’s eyes scanned it, but I knew she wasn’t thinking of going to the local aquarium. No, her mind was on Aiden, her fucking brother, and what hard, chaotic vengeance we were about to wreak.

  “You okay?” I asked, gazing steadily down at her.

  Her breathing was even but labored, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of our making out or due to what was about to happen. Both, probably. “I’m fine,” Lola said, giving me a tiny smile. It was a smile that was very unlike her usual crazy grins, but I’d take it. “I’m just… I can’t believe this is about to happen.”

  I could imagine that this was surreal for her. After all these years, finally being able to stand up to her brother and say, no more, never again, and slit his throat. Or something like that. She might be nervous now, but I knew once things got going, she would revel in it.

  “I always thought I never wanted to see him again,” she said. “I thought I could force myself to forget him and what he did to me, but… it’s not possible.” Lola held onto her mask, holding it before her stomach, where that big, thick scar sat under her clothes, a permanent reminder of her past and its horrors.

  God, if her parents weren’t already dead, I would’ve had them strung up and tortured, their unrecognizable bodies tossed in the river, to be forgotten about for all eternity.

  “What if things change after this?” she asked, a question I wasn’t expecting.

  “What do you mean?”

  She seemed to think on it. “I guess it doesn’t matter, because after this we’re hitting them hard.” Them, the DeLucas, a name none of us would say while we were in public. “We might not make it.”

  “We’re going to make it,” I told her, meaning it. I would do anything and everything in my power to see that we’d all live through this little war.

  Lola looked as if she didn’t believe me, and it killed me to know she thought it was a suicide mission, our war with the DeLucas. Maybe it was, but I wouldn’t give up hope, not now, not after finally realizing how good it felt to have someone, to love someone else, to want to be their protector and monster at the same time.

  It was a good thing Sylvester chose that moment to walk in, turning his face away from the workers at the front desk and the cameras hanging on the walls. He headed straight for us, his shoulders hunched a bit. “Ready?” he asked.

  Lola took a moment, breathing in and out once. She brought her stare to us both, holding our gazes for what felt like forever. She nodded once, saying, “I’m ready. Let’s get this motherfucker.” And then she said nothing else, heading to the elevators.

  Sylvester and I were momentarily stunned at her sudden gusto, but we caught up to her in a few seconds, just after she’d hit the up button. All I could think was, that’s my girl.

  That’s my beautiful, gorgeous, murderous girl.

  Chapter Eight – Lola

  The elevator ride seemed to go on forever. Fortunately, Sylvester, Maddox, and I were the only ones on it, so I didn’t bother to hide my anxiety. Was I excited? Fuck yeah, this bitch was about to get what he deserved. Was I nervous all the same? Uh, fuck yeah to that, too.

  It was something I never wanted to happen because I never thought I’d be strong enough to face him down. Everything was coming full circle here; he was my last tie to my old life, the life I’d run from, the life I didn’t want. He was the only thing left that was holding me back from being great, from truly letting go, and I planned on showing him just how much he meant to me after all these years. Hint: it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  My brother made me what I was today. I should thank him for that. Manners and shit.

  Sylvester broke the silence of the elevator, saying, “We never discussed what we’d do if he’s not there. How long we’ll wait for him. The longer we’re here, the more danger we put ourselves in. We need to get in, do what we came here for, and get out.” He looked at me, adding quietly, “I know you want to make his pain last, but with everything else—”

  “I get it,” I said, because I did. Now was not the time to spend days making my brother pay for his sins, of which there were many. While I would love to drown myself in my brother’s pain, I knew it wasn’t realistic, not with the state of everything right now.

  Beggars couldn’t be choosers and all that, you know. Take what you can get when you get it and be thankful for the opportunity.

  A part of me felt like I should be upset with the guys for going behind my back and inviting Aiden here, but the bigger and more bloodthirsty part of me knew better. They were only trying to help, after all, only trying to make sure that fucker got what he deserved, along with a heaping pile of misery.

  The elevator doors slid open on the top floor of the hotel, and I was the first to step out, breathing deep, my nerves antsy. I turned toward his door, and then I knocked while Sylvester and Maddox kept themselves away from the peephole on the door.

  It might be a fancy place, but it was a hotel all the same, and though it might not be smart to leave a corpse here, it’s what we had to do. The cameras could catch our faces; it didn’t matter. Either we would be back to owning this city after we showed the DeLucas who was boss, or we would already be dead.

  Hey, look at that—we. I kept saying we, like I was a Luciano or something. I wasn’t, but it felt right, felt natural to include myself with them. Wherever they went, whatever they did, they’d have me, provided Daddy Luciano didn’t put a bullet into my head while I slept one night.

  Sylvester’s words rang in my head as I waited outside the door. What if he wasn’t home? What a pity that would be. We’d wait here for him for a little while, and then… then, I guess, if he never came back,
we’d have to turn the car around and go back to the cabin, which would mean my payback would have to wait until after everything else.

  If there was an after, I mean. There might not be. I always said I wasn’t made for happy endings, and life might just prove me right. Don’t get me wrong—I’d go down swinging as hard as I could while screaming as loudly as my lungs could handle, but in the end, they still had bigger numbers than we did, and their leader was none other than the Bloody fucking Princess.

  I didn’t like the fact that Bianca had her own nickname. I didn’t like it at all.

  My hands hung at my sides like limp, useless noodles, and for a split-second, I felt like the me of ten years ago, the me who knew no one cared enough to listen to. If my parents didn’t care what was happening, why would anyone else? Silence was a golden thing, precious to those it benefited. It wasn’t golden or precious to me, though, for look at where it had gotten me.

  I was someone the media would rave about. How could a girl who came from money end up a serial killer with next to no remorse? How could such a pretty thing wind up a psychopath? And then they’d learn about my past, somehow. The doctors and nurses I’d tried to tell when I was younger, when I thought I could make it stop, would step out of the shadows and confess their secrets, tell the world how I’d been abused for years and everyone looked the other way.

  The world would mourn the girl I could’ve been instead of celebrate the monster I had become.

  As my thoughts ran away from me, I heard footsteps behind the door. He was home. Of course he was. I’d bet any money that Aiden hardly ever left this room now that I knew where he was, eternally hopeful that I would run right back into his arms and everything could go back to the way it was before.

  What a silly, silly notion. What a fucking stupid thought. If my brother was oblivious to the pain I would bring him today, he doubly deserved what he’d get.

  The door flew open, and there stood my brother, Aiden Harding, wearing no shoes, his bare feet poking out of his dark trousers, his button-up grey shirt undone by his clavicle. His blue eyes widened when he saw me, his gaze dropping to the mask I held for only a moment, and I resisted my urge to glance toward Maddox and Sylvester, who stood off to the side, beasts lying in wait.

  Aiden’s mouth curled into a smile, and my spine tingled with disgust. “Lola,” he spoke, reaching for me. Before I knew what was happening, he was pulling me into the apartment, slamming me against his chest as he hugged me close, acting very much like a loving, caring brother and not someone who wanted to hurt me.

  But that was always his specialty. Monsters like him were sociopaths, the kind of people who knew how to control everyone else around them, someone who knew exactly what to say in order to avoid any repercussions whatsoever. His ugly monster and mine were not on the same level. I might had been born from his darkness, but I had created my own.

  “For a while, I thought you wouldn’t come back,” he said, murmuring the words into my hair. “I thought I’d have to wait weeks for you to realize you belong with me.” Belong with me, as if I was his possession.

  No. Fuck no. If someone owned me, if someone possessed everything I was, it was the two people in the hall. It was Viper. It was literally anyone else, anyone but him.

  “I’m so glad you came,” he was busy saying, finally letting go of me. I stepped deeper into the fancy suite as he went to shut the door. Only, he couldn’t shut the door, because someone’s shoe got in the way. “What—” Aiden couldn’t get out anything else, for the next moment, Maddox stuck his head in, giving him an evil grin.

  “Hello there, Aiden Harding,” Maddox growled out his name. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.” He pushed inside, the door flying open so hard it practically came off the hinges. Sylvester was right behind him, and as Maddox postured and intimidated Aiden, Sylvester swung the door shut and locked it… and then he pulled out his gun, which made Aiden gulp.

  “What—what’s going on?” Aiden stepped between us, like he thought he had to protect me. Such a sweet, stupid brother he was. Such a horrible, pathetic, worthless and abusive brother. Too little, too late. “Who are you?”

  “You know,” Maddox spoke, reaching beneath his black t-shirt and drawing out his own pistol, “I think you should ask her about that.”

  Suddenly it clicked in my brother’s head that these two had not randomly appeared in the hallway; they’d come here with me. Aiden turned his wide stare to me, begging for answers without saying a single word.

  Oh, it was too much. Far too much. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

  “They’re with me,” I told him, watching him take a step away from me, finally starting to get it. I wished I could feel how fast his heart was beating, could peel back his skin and crack through his ribcage just to see it.

  Hmm. Would I have to go through the lungs too? Whatever. You know what I meant.

  “What’s wrong?” I started, grinning ear to ear as I walked closer to my men, my deadly beasts who would be more than happy to end this for me, if I wanted them to. But I didn’t. This was my fight, he was my brother, and I would be the one to end him. And then, once he was gone, there would be no more Hardings ever again. No passing down these fucking awful genetics. “Cat got your tongue, Aiden?” I chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll cut it out soon enough.”

  Aiden breathed hard, unable to figure out who he should be staring at the most. Hint: it was me. I was the one in charge here, but apparently the fucker couldn’t figure that out. Finally, he spoke, “What is this? Is this some kind of shakedown? Lola, if you need money—”

  I laughed. Money? That’s what he thought this was all about? Oh, how the world had failed him. How it had failed us both. The world had let its demons eat me up while it kept the wool pulled over my brother’s eyes. He had no idea why we were here, why I was with Maddox and Sylvester.

  But he was about to find out.

  “If you think this is about money,” I spat out, “then you are blinder than I thought, baby brother.” My teeth ground as I spoke those last two words; he hadn’t been my baby brother in a long, long time.

  The chosen one. The heir of the Harding family. The good child. The one who could never do wrong in my parents’ eyes, and the one—ironically—who could do nothing but wrong. A liar, a deceiver, an ugly, hideous human being who wasn’t worth any of this. Did that matter, though? No, I was still going to enjoy tearing this motherfucker apart.

  “This isn’t about money,” I said, watching as he backed up into the lounge, the living room area even though this suite had multiple similar rooms, I’d bet. He backed up into the armrest of the couch, stumbling backward, and I laughed. “This isn’t me realizing how badly I’ve missed home and you. No, Aiden, this—” I gestured to the room, to us, to everything here. “—is the day you thought would never come.”

  Now that a couch stood between us, he could stand a little straighter. “Lola,” he whispered, his voice strained, his head cocking slightly.

  I mimicked him, turning my head just so and whispering a mocking, “Aiden, let me be frank. I haven’t missed you. In fact, I’ve tried my hardest not to think of you.” As I spoke, as I held Aiden’s attention rapt, Maddox inched around the other side of the couch, moving slowly, noiselessly. “I’ve spent these last few years on my own, living and breathing and doing everything I couldn’t while in that house with you.”

  Maddox crept soundlessly behind him, and before Aiden realized it, he had a gun pointed to the back of his head, and Maddox undid the safety, its sound echoing in the suite.

  “I killed,” I went on, “and I don’t just mean Mom and Dad. I mean others. You’ve heard about the Night Slayer, right? Congrats, you’re looking at her… and you’re about to be her next victim.” Taking a step forward, I asked, “Do you know why?”

  Aiden had gone pale, the weakling. He didn’t try moving, didn’t try to overpower Maddox because he knew he’d get a bullet in the brain instantly if he did. His jaw was clamped
firmly shut, and it was obvious he wouldn’t say anything.

  “The Night Slayer hunts those who hurt the innocent, the ones who prey on the weak and make a joke of it,” I spoke, my voice dripping hatred and venom, two things my brother deserved. “She kills the men who don’t deserve to stain this world with their presence. You should already know this by now, though, because you’re the one who made her. You created the Night Slayer and her lust for vengeance.” Lifting both arms up, I smiled. “And, finally, after all these years, she’s about to have it.”

  “Lola, please, whatever this is, you don’t have to do this.” He dared to shake his head once, even with the gun against the back of his head. I knew Maddox wouldn’t shoot him unless I told him to, but no, I had something else in store for my dear brother.

  It was kind of funny, really, how Aiden thought he could talk me down, how he assumed I could be dissuaded from this. What a fool. He’d set me upon this path years ago, and now that he was seeing his own creation, he didn’t like it. He wanted to turn away. I bet he would give anything to undo what he’d done, if only so he could come out of this night alive.

  But he wouldn’t. My brother would die tonight, and I would remember every single detail in vivid glory until I drew my last breath—whether that was soon or not. It didn’t matter. I would die happy knowing this fucker would never hurt anyone else.

  “See, that’s where you’re very wrong,” I told him, setting my hands on my hips and cocking an attitude. “I have to do this, actually, because you’re the worst of the worst. I have to do this now, because I couldn’t do it then. You don’t deserve to live to see another sunrise, brother.”

  There were monsters in this world. There were bloodthirsty beasts who got off on other’s pain. There were psychopaths and sociopaths… and then there were devils in disguise, the ones with absolutely no redeeming qualities whatsoever, the kind of beings who survived only because they devoured the souls of others.