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Blood and Secrets 5 by Rose Harper (1)





Fury coats the inside of my chest like liquid fire, forcing my fingers to continue squeezing Camille’s throat. The only thing I can focus on is here … now … watching the life drain from her eyes for everything she’s put me through. Not even the closeness of having Carina standing just behind Camille is enough to pull me from the clutches of the murderous rage I feel toward the bitch standing in front of me.

I want to maim her. Make her feel what she’s forcing me to feel. Shove that goddamn distraction right back down her pretty little throat. Force her to choke on it and sit back and watch as she gasps for air that will never come. Because that’s all this is—that’s all it has to be. There’s no way what she said is real. No way my entire life has been nothing more than a well-fabricated lie.

Her actions nearly broke me, but if what she’s saying holds an ounce of truth—I will never be the same again.

“Repeat that,” I say, forcing her into Carina’s chest. The knife digs deeper into her back. Its mission of striking an organ with fatal consequence comes closer with each ounce of pressure I force on her.

“Y-You,” she wheezes with a cough. “You. Are. My. Brother.”

A deafening ring starts sounding in my ears as my blood pressure shoots sky high. I can feel the crimson flourish of blood rush to the surface of my face, heating it. She’s provoking me. Trying to fill my head full of her lies and deceit. Well, I’ve had enough. No more Mr. Nice Guy. No more trying to be someone I’m clearly not.

Squeezing, I feel her neck pop under my grip. A hand on my wrist doesn’t stop me from squeezing harder and harder, watching her face turn from a blistering shade of red to a deep purple. Her lips turn blue. Her nails claw at my forearms, their force no stronger than a toddler’s.

I’m going to watch the life drain from her eyes. I don’t give a fuck if it damns my soul to hell in the process. She’ll learn to toss out those lies, and she’ll learn by meeting her maker.

“S-Stop,” she begs, no voice reaching my ears from lack of oxygen.

But I’ll never stop. I was just fine when Carina showed up. Yes, I had things planned for Camille—torture that would take place over days, weeks, and months. But with my woman near me, I felt the first cleansing breath enter my riddled body since before this entire debacle started. The bloodlust eased. The need to watch Camille’s face contort at the tip of my knife lessened.

All of my emotions were in check—until she said those words. That’s when it all blew to hell and what little sanity I was clinging onto disappeared. I can’t stop the raging beast inside of me from taking her life. I want this kill to be up close and personal, to show her and everyone else I won’t stand for such lies and treachery. Keeping me in the basement is one thing, because hell, at least she told me the truth from the get-go. But now? Her lie is going to be the reason she doesn’t leave this house alive.

“Mateo, baby, she may have information we need from her. You have to let go.” Carina’s voice enters my ears, but it only fuels my anger. The Reap telling me to allow a kill to go free? My kill—even for information that she could have? That’s utterly insane.

Turning my narrowed eyes toward hers, I stare daggers down at the woman I love more than anything in this world. But right now, I can’t even stand the sight of her for what she just said. It’s like she doesn’t even know me when we both know there’s nothing further from the truth.

“You’re either with me or against me—take your pick,” I sneer, feeling Camille sagging in my grip.

I’ll admit, seeing Carina caused the anger and need for revenge to lower from a deafening roar to a dull squeal inside me. It triggered my demons to go from clawing at the inside of my skull, to lying around leisurely—as if the balm of their damned soul was within reach and they were getting high off the proximity. But now? My body feels like it was duped, and the raging emotions are back once more.

So, to have her say I should let Camille go instead of finishing her—especially after what that bitch just said—infuriates me to no end.

“You shouldn’t even have to ask,” she fumes, mirroring my glare. Anger dances in her mesmerizing hazel eyes, but I don’t care. She can get as mad as she wants; it’s not going to make a difference. My sanity has barely been stitched together since the moment Camille made me get into that car. It’s been waiting for the one moment to make her feel exactly as I have. And with her revelation, my restraint shattered. My understanding and complete lack of bloodlust nearly caused my early demise.

Well, I’m fucking done. People want me to be the person I truly am? They’re about to get more than they ever bargained for.

“Didn’t think I had to, but the way you’re acting kinda forces my hand,” I retort. “Now, are we going to have problems, or are you going to shut the fuck up? I love you, Carina—God knows I do—but I was right when I said you need to learn your place. Now, step in line, or so help me, I’ll bend you over my knee and remind you just who is in charge around here. Do you understand?”

I see movement at the front door, but Carina jerks her arm up in a universal sign to back down. I smirk. It seems my queen came into her own in my absence. Perfect. But that still leaves the argument if she’s going to bow out of this dominance ploy between the two of us, or if she’s going to buck up against me. I ready myself for the latter.

She stays quiet for a moment, contemplating. I expect her to recoil at the way I just spoke to her, or cuss for thinking I could ever exert any type of dominance over her. However, something she sees in my eyes makes her relent. Because seconds later, she subtly nods her head, motioning me to continue. That’s my girl.

She releases Camille and steps away. My eyes follow her until she stops right next to Domino, crossing her arms over her chest. She doesn’t look dismayed, pissed, or even argumentative. Instead, a look of understanding passes between us. It doesn’t do anything to calm the thunderous storm raging inside me, but it does allow me the peace I need when it pertains to Carina so I can continue.

“Do what you have to,” she says, allowing that small smile I’ve come to love so much to tug at the corner of her lips. The minimal difference has a drastic effect on me. I’m sporting a semi within seconds, all blood rushing south in preparation for fucking that sweet, tight cunt of hers later. “I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

“Even if we travel through the depths of hell?” I ask, hardening even more.

Smirking, she replies, “Especially then.”

Turning my focus back to Camille, I have the slight urge to snap her neck and be done with it. The need to hear her spine crack in two causes a sense of giddiness to rise inside of me. But. A quick death is far too humane for the things she’s put me through. I had to sit in my piss and shit for days. Drink grungy water from the pipe that runs along the underneath of the house. She tainted my liquor, trying to get me to succumb to her demands before she killed me. She’s saying I’m not the son of a Calvetti, but her brother—which is unbelievably impossible. And, I have a sneaking suspicion she’s the one who shot and killed my brother. The last fault alone is enough for her demise by my hand.

She played the perfect prey, when all the while, she was gracefully hiding the predator just below.

Walking her back toward the wall, I shove her back against it. A gasping wail leaves her throat as tears burn in her eyes from the knife digging itself all the way to the hilt. Blood bubbles from her lips, dripping off her chin and onto my hand. My eyes follow the lines of blood as if it’s a drug I’ve been jonesing for.

Memories start flashing through my mind like snapshots from a camera. Blood—like a pool of finality around my mother’s prone figure. Blood—sliding down the corner of her mouth as her blank eyes settled on mine for the last time. Blood, blood, blood. It causes a raging inferno deep inside me, coaxing me to spill more of it. To bathe in the blood of thine enemy.

It’s been too long since I’ve allowed myself to feel like this. To honestly let go and wreak havoc on those around me.

Everyone is going to wish they didn’t fuck with me, by the time this is over. I’ll not rest until they’re all dead. In the ground. Becoming nothing more than worm food.

My heart beats loudly inside my chest as I watch her jerk in my hands, her lungs causing her body’s natural reaction for lacking the sweet substance. Her eyes roll back in her head as a sick, merciless grin pulls over my lips. When her chest movements grow fainter, lips bluer than ice, I release her. Camille drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes, coughing and wheezing as she shakily grabs for her throat.

“Happy?” I ask, glaring over toward Carina.

Smirking, she shakes her head at me. “No. I won’t be happy until she spills every secret in that head of hers at the tip of your blade.”

I haven’t gotten the bloodbath I wanted for the murderer of my brother, my kidnapper, or the woman who tried in so many ways to alienate me from my family. But the thought that I will be able to get my pound of flesh—just not yet—relieves the anvil-like weight from my chest. My shoulders sag as it all leaves me in an audible exhale.  I close my eyes, relishing the feeling coursing through my veins. It’s euphoric. Calming.

But then … Dom just has to open his mouth and blow that feeling to smithereens.




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