Page 66 of Fatal Scheme

“I don’t care who you are, or how long you’ve been in the Family. All I want is the why. Why did my father orchestrate a plan, all these moving parts, just to take Carter?” He asks, a certain sincerity in his tone that I wasn’t expecting, but even when we’re on the precipice of taking a life – the very thing that lightens up the darkest parts of him – he’s battling the pieces that were trained in brotherhood, and family.

“She’s fucking hot, maybe he needed a new plaything,” he jokes, but my very worked up boyfriend doesn’t find it funny, his fist cracking into bone within a second.

The idiot spits out blood, his nose most definitely broken, but as it trickles down his face, turning his teeth crimson red, he doesn’t back down, opting to get in as many cheap shots as possible.

“I think he used the words … free use? By any means necessary? Seems like Daddy is selling out your whore to the highest bidder,” he roars, clearly fucking proud of the way he’s approaching his last few minutes of his life, and I’m getting bored of this attitude.

There’s nothing I love more than when they beg for mercy, or sing like little canaries, but this smug asshole pretending he’s not afraid of death is only fueling the sadistic animal that lives inside me, the one that wants to break him so badly, he cries for his fucking mother right before I end his pathetic existence.

“You know what’s so fascinating about the human body? We have so much blood in our many veins, pumping all the way back to the heart, but some of them are more important than others. I could slice an artery, you know, make the show of draining the life from your body quick, but you’re not very nice, and I don’t want to reward you. What do you think, Jasper? Should we cut all the baby veins, starting from his hands, until we reach his toes? Little pinpricks along the skin that will make death seem like mercy, but will feel like it’ll take an eternity to reach?” I muse, not expecting an answer, but Jasper’s eyes light up at my words, like I’m hitting all the right spots that ignite the inferno in his soul.

“That seems … tedious, Principessina. We could rip out his intestines, turn them into a pretty necklace,” he offers, and I bite my lower lip in response, his words slowly reverting me to nothing but a breathy, desperate mess.

“Oh, a girl can never have too much jewelry! But first, he’s wearing something that needs to be returned.” I cock my head to the side, smiling from ear to ear as Jasper passes me a thinner blade, one with a curve toward the handle that makes it perfect for what I’m about to do.

Without warning, or another word from the bullish idiot, I pierce the tip of the knife right above the Masseria crest, angling just right as I begin to peel the first few layers of skin from the muscle, the design separating from his body at a deliciously torturous pace.

Not as tough as he pretended to be, his screams, whimpers, and curses echo around the metal walls, the sound bringing an unmatchable joy to this situation, causing me to practically levitate off the ground while I make a mess of what used to be a slab of skin, covered in ink, and attached to a still breathing body.

“You’re so good at this, my little butcher. Fucking hell, you look perfect like this,” Jasper says, complimenting the darkest parts of me, and I feel my cheeks blush at his words.

“You two are … fucking sick,” the meathead spits, his saliva splashing into the pool of blood beneath his feet.

“What a sweet thing to say. I knew we’d start to get along,” I giggle, slicing the last piece of flesh until it sits in the palm of my hand, his cries absolutely beautiful as the realization hits that I’ve literally removed a chunk of his organ, and I’m not even close to finished.

“Hell couldn’t be more beautiful than this,” Jasper breathes, pressing his body against mine, his hardness pushing against my thigh, the look in his eye nothing short of a man utterly possessed.

He nips at my lips, biting my flesh until I can’t stand the teasing any longer, our tongues colliding in perfect harmony, enhancing the euphoric bliss we’re chasing together.

I’ve reached impressive heights with these two men, both of them lifting me higher than I ever knew was possible, but this moment is undoubtedly the climax, the place where nothing else could come close to reaching.

It’s as if I climbed the final level of elevation on the world’s largest mountain, and whatever happens next will only begin the descent of a lifetime, no experience ever capable of topping exactly how I feel at the end of the universe.

THIRTY

TYSON

The two bloodthirsty devils are practically fucking in a pool of someone else’s bodily fluids, but Carter looks like she’s already on the edge of oblivion, every breath she takes lifting her further into madness.

Normally, I’d jump right in to experience the heights she’s lost in, but this time, I’m thankful to witness while she plays with Massi, giving them the chance to fall into the kink they share.

It’s fascinating, watching someone you share a deep connection with, also exploring a strong emotional bond with another person, proving that you can love someone in different ways, but still speak to their soul and find solace within one another.

The game of cat and mouse they’re playing with their victim has gone on for a while now, and finally, Carter makes the call, ending the poor bastard’s life with a slice to the jugular.

His blood spits out in every direction, showering them both in a crimson rain, and the hard on in my pants grows as they tangle their tongues together, quite literally playing like little kids running through a sprinkler on a hot summer day.

It doesn’t take long for Massi to strip her clothes off, her porcelain-colored skin painted a dark maroon, and he licks every inch of her body, the pleasure causing her head to tip back while screams of lust leave her lips.

Before they go any further, Carter pulls away, looking into his eyes, saying something I can’t hear through the sound proof room, but they both turn in my direction, like they’re summoning me to join them.

I’d thought they were so lost in their own world to realize that I was still here, but as usual, Carter can find her men in a crowded room, her strong senses proving once again how connected the three of us are.

“Tyson, I need you,” she whines, pushing the door open and looking up at me through her lashes.

“Baby girl, I don’t do blood very well,” I argue, not wanting to spoil the fun, but if I touch her skin right now, I might literally throw up.

“Clean me up, please? I can’t stand to be stained by a traitor for another single second.” She pleads, holding her hand out for mine, while Massi scoops her into his arms, carrying her across the threshold as if they’d just gotten married.