Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken (79 page)

Kyle smiled.

He seemed to be doing that a lot this morning. But he’d come to expect it when he was in the presence of his little family.

When he made it to his bed, he laid Sofia down first, scooting her closely to Reanna, then tapping Reanna’s shoulder to alert her of their arrival. Her eyes opened right as Kyle was sitting down on his side.

She sat up slightly with a soft gasp. “Honey,” she breathed.

But Kyle silenced her. Leaning over, he left a gentle kiss on her lips. It was all he needed to do for her to understand just how
‘alright’
he was after … pretty much everything they went through yesterday. Now, he was ready.

Ready to lie in the arms of his family, and sleep.

Something he hadn’t done soundly in a long time.

Taking Reanna’s hand in his, Kyle gazed into her eyes.

This was all he needed. All he wanted. His family, his life, his job, and his freedom. Freedom to finally be who he always wanted to be, and he had that now.

He could sleep soundly with that knowledge.

And he did … sleep soundly.

For the first time in years, Kyle slipped, effortlessly, into a dreamless sleep …

The cold warehouse was quiet when she’d entered, which was different and unexpected. They were usually all crying at this time of day. Anastacia called it the hour of begging.

It never failed.

Every day at around six p.m. they’d all start begging. Begging to be released, begging to be spared. Begging.
“Please, Anastacia, please. Have mercy!”

Sometimes, if she had extra time before she needed to be home, she would sit behind a wall, and listen to them. Smile at their weak attempts to appeal to what heart they thought she had for them.

‘Somewhere Anastacia. Somewhere inside of you there has to be some love left … Don’t you remember Ana. We used to love each other …’

Did they?
Anastacia thought with a chuckle.

No, she didn’t fucking remember.

She remembered pain. She remembered betrayal. She remembered a family that didn’t love her, a family that didn’t accept her, that had shunned her simply because her skin was dark.

That’s what Ana remembered.

She remembered how much she hated them. All of them. And how long she’d been waiting to make each one of them pay for every bit of pain they ever inflicted on her … or someone she loved.

It was time.

And she could feel the sadistic excitement racing through her cold, Stone blood. It was finally the night.

After she’d collected her last sibling, she’d promised herself that she would wait. At least wait until after Kyle’s wedding. After Kyle forgave her and Cesare for hurting him the way they had. And then, and only then would she reward herself with her revenge.

The night was finally here.

And Anastacia was shaking. She looked down at her trembling hands with a smile, the excitement she was feeling was almost too much for her to handle.

Closing the door behind her, she made sure to leave it unlocked, in effort to ensure that everything went according to plan.

She’d been waiting too long for this. The last thing she wanted was for something unexpected to occur that would further postpone what was to come.

Journeying forward, Anastacia made her way to her seating area. And the moment the sound of her heels began to echo, was the moment the begging she had been expecting to hear upon her arrival began to bounce off the walls of the warehouse.

“Ana!”

“Anastacia!”

It was a symphony of agonizing screams in three different languages. English. French. And Italian.

Anastacia had to close her eyes and take it in slowly as to not miss one note of it. It was invigorating, as if their crying, their begging, the pure terror in their voices was fueling her body, and making her blood pump rapidly through her veins. It was almost better than sex.

She exhaled, her body shivering with another rush of excitement as she did. She was seeing red. So much blood. Worthless blood.
Weak
blood …

Tonight, it would cover these cold, stone floors, creating a painting, a masterpiece of sins that no artist could ever truly capture with the stroke of a brush. For, it would be impossible.

When she was finally in their sight, the men she had surrounding the four of them taped their mouths shut. Just as they were supposed to every time she came into the room.

Anastacia didn’t like to hear her siblings speak when she was face to face with them. She much preferred to see them suffer, their face turning red, and their eyes nearly popping out of their heads while they tried their hardest to make her understand what they were saying behind the thick tape covering their mouths. That was far more entertaining than hearing anything they had to say to her.

“The wedding was beautiful,” she said casually as she made her way over to her plush couch in the middle of the room and sat her purse down. “The bride was lovely, the groom was deliriously happy, and they’re gone now. On their way to the Bahamas. It’s the first stop on their honeymoon.”

Call Anastacia a little crazy, but she enjoyed exchanging pleasantries with them before the torture began. Just to show them how well she was doing. When they were all young, none of them ever really asked her how she was, even when she wished they would. She hadn’t had any friends, so … watching her siblings play together, and talk to each other had been a not so delightful past time of hers when she was a child. Now, whenever she visited them, she liked to tell them what was going on with her, and how her family was doing.

They were her prisoners, after all. They had to listen to her now.

She looked over to them with a smile. “There was a dance,” she mused, sitting down on the couch to enjoy relaying the memory. “The bride, Reanna. She wanted a traditional wedding, so it was a big occasion. And even though he was still angry with us at the time, Kyle let Cesare and I pay for it …” That had been a kindness, and an honor, to pay for Kyle’s wedding. One that Cesare and Anastacia had thanked their son for giving them despite the fact that he had still been upset with them at the time. “Reanna doesn’t have a father; he died long ago, so Nathan walked her down the aisle. The two have this sibling like connection, they adore each other … Kyle was wonderful today.” Anastacia smiled at the thought of her son. “The dance, that I mentioned. It was us …” And Anastacia’s heart warmed at the memory every time it flashed through her mind. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier then I was when I had the pleasure of dancing with my son at his wedding …”

She ignored the screams coming from behind the tape covering Abrielle’s mouth, as she lifted her eyes to gaze at her four siblings.

“Reanna’s pregnant,” she announced. “That’s another child. Another Stone to carry on the blood line, the way father always wanted …”

Her eyes lowered as sadness washed over her at the thought of her father. Perhaps he would be proud of her now if he were here. Be proud of how well she was doing, be proud of how she never forgot him, or his wish for the Stone legacy.

“I want my name to never die”,
he’d said to her on his dying bed.

And even though there had been many instances where Anastacia had wanted to give up simply because she didn’t feel capable of completing the last task her father had ever given her … she hadn’t given up.

She
still
wasn’t giving up.

“The goal now is to ensure that these young ones grow up strong,” she whispered more to herself than to her siblings. “Their parents,” she nodded. “They are teaching them well … And my daughter.” Anastacia smiled. So much pride filled her every time she thought of, Carterina. “Being raised, and trained in the underworld was a nice advantage for, Carterina. She’s running the empire well, and thankfully, she has more help now that Kyle seems to be taking an interest in Stone business … He’s grown.”

And changed. For the better, of course.

“He’s strong. And he reminds me of Alexis …”

And Anastacia had been surprised by that. She hadn’t known the boy had had it in him … She didn’t think
he
knew he’d had it in him.

“He has started to make a name for himself … a new one. One that’s worthy of our father, of his grandfather. I always tell them, that as a direct descendent of a man that breathed life into this world, they are responsible for upholding the Stone reputation. Not the one that you weak ones authored. No,” she shook her head. “I hold them to the standards of my father. Of the best. Of the man who taught me …”

Sighing, Anastacia looked away from them.

“I know you four are wondering, why … Why am I telling you all of this?”

She reached in her purse and pulled out her cell, searching the mobile device for the text message that she’d been waiting for. Upon finding that it was there, she smiled.

Finally…

It hadn’t taken her long to arrive, but Anastacia was too excited about this to linger. If they started now, instead of later on tonight, then they’d both make it home before their husbands became suspicious of their whereabouts.

“My goal …” she continued talking to her siblings, turning back to where each of them laid, sniveling, weeping, and screaming on the tops of the cold, steel beds they were confined in.

Annette. Adalene. Adrien.

Alexis Stone’s legitimate children.

And Abrielle.

His other bastard … Like Anastacia.

“My goal here is to let each of you see how it is that I’m going to completely reconstruct the Stone family, after I finally finish wiping all of you motherfuckers out.”

They cried.
Oh
, they cried. It was lovely. Like music.

“And I have to give a thank you to my ex-husband … even though I fucking hate him.”

Silas Steele.

“He’s been helping me a lot,” Anastacia nodded. “He took care of your elders for me. Your families, your children, husbands. Adrien,” she called to her brother. “Your wife screamed the loudest.” She laughed when Adrien’s agonized scream filled the warehouse. “Stop your crying, Adrien,” she rolled her eyes. “You’ll be joining them soon enough.”

She looked at her watch, smiling at what time it was, then snapped her fingers at her men. “Lift them up,” she ordered.

And the sounds of the four beds rising to standing positions filled the room almost immediately.

“Hi,” she whispered, when she and her siblings were finally face to face. She stood up from her couch, staring at each of them, trying to commit how they looked, in the state they were currently in, to memory. “You all look so …” Weak, frail, devastated, hungry. “I wish you could see yourselves … I wish you could feel, what I’m feeling right now.”

Good. She was feeling pretty amazing. Revenge often had this effect on her, but this … this particular revenge felt sweeter than the usual.

“Does anyone want to say anything?” she asked them. “I don’t usually give last words, but …” She swallowed. “This just seems like one of those special instances when I should.”

Adrien bobbed his head back and forth, signaling that he indeed had some last words, and Anastacia went to him immediately.

“Yes,” she said excitedly.

She wasn’t usually excited to hear anything that came out of their mouths, but tonight could be the exception. Tonight could be the night that, perhaps, they’d apologize to her before the life was drained from their bodies.

“Remove the tape from his mouth—or no wait!” She said, stopping her men. “Move,” she shooed them away. “I’ll do it.”

She closed the rest of the distance between them, and pulled the tape off herself, flinching when spit immediately flew into her face.

“You bitch!” Adrien spat. “Fuck you! I hope you die! I hope you burn in hell for all fucking eternity you black cunt!”

Anastacia’s eyes blinked rapidly as she inhaled a deep, shaky breath, and wiped the spit from her face, then raised her hand when her men tried to come forward.

“I fucking hate you, Anastacia! We should have killed you with your whore mother! You fucking cunt! Rot in hell, you and every Stone you breed! I hope the walls of the fucking castle cave in and crush every single fucking one of you!”

“No!” Anastacia shouted, then she jammed her fist into Adrien’s face repeatedly. “No! No! No!” She stepped away from him. “Those are not your last words!” she screamed. “You are not supposed to hate me! You’re supposed to be begging me for your life!”

Fucking, Adrien Stone! Always finding courage to spit in the face of the man or woman threatening his life. It was fucking infuriating.

Storming back up to him, Anastacia grabbed his now bloodied face, and stared deeply into his eyes. “Why?” she screamed. “Why!” She slammed his head back against the steel. “You were supposed to say that you’re sorry!” That he wished he was better to her. “You were supposed to remind me of the time when I loved you before you turned your back on me, just like the rest of them!
All of you!
” She screamed at the top of her lungs.