Page 92 of Cruel Revenge

I look up at Skyla before looking back down at the pile of clippings. “What are these?”

“Every major article that’s been written about me and the people I killed.”

She says the words without a hint of remorse. If anything, there’s pride in her voice when she stands tall in front of me.

Skyla eyes the box like it’s the crown jewels.

I pause, looking down at the pile of articles I still haven’t gone through. “You would’ve been thirteen at the time these stories started being published.”

“Yeah.”

There aren’t enough tequila shots in the world to be able to process this right now.

I’ve been sleeping with a serial killer. Not just a woman in one of the biggest mafia families in the States. Not someone who kills out of necessity.

She kills for fun.

The woman standing in front of me right now stalks people and kills them. She treats it like a sport, hunting her victims down like animals.

Is that what she did with the man in Martina Esposito’s house?

Skyla sits on the bed beside me, the mattress dipping with her weight. “I told you this was going to make you see me differently.”

“You did all this.”

She nods. “Starting from the time I was thirteen.”

“How many people?” I swallow hard, hating the way the words taste bitter on my tongue.

I feel like an ass for judging her when nothing she’s done is any worse than what I have. Not by a long shot.

I’m sure that I would be able to put her to shame.

And yet, there’s something about trying to wrap my head around all that she’s done that seems impossible.

I can’t put together the woman sitting beside me with the one who goes on killing sprees every couple of months.

She reaches for the articles I set to the side and tucks them back into the box. “If it makes you feel better, most of the people who died deserved it.”

“How many people know about this?”

“My family.” She lets out a strangled noise and gets up, pacing back and forth in front of me. “They all ignore it, though. None of them are willing to acknowledge that every few months, I become the Reaper. I take off to another state, kill people, and then come back home as if nothing happened. Hell, the only time Aiden even acknowledges what I’m capable of is when he needs my services.”

“Well, we already knew he was an ass, so you’re not telling me anything I didn’t guess at.”

She laughs, looking surprised before shaking her head. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would.”

I set the box on the floor before getting up and reaching for her, tossing her on the bed.

She smirks, propping herself up on her elbows, her gaze burning bright with lust as I unbutton the sleeves of my dress shirt and roll them up.

“I am very angry with you.” I advance on her, leaning over her on the bed. I drag her earlobe between my teeth, biting down until she lets out a little whimper. “I thought you would tell me the truth. I thought we were going to trust each other, and now I find out what you’ve been hiding.”

“People don’t like finding out their wife is a serial killer.”

I grab the knife from the bed, dragging the flat of the blade along her collarbone.

She shivers, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip.

---