Over My Ex-Under His Billionaire Brother’s Sheets

Alessa ​ “Ya know, I usually like to play a little longer, but I have a date,” I declare, running my blade down my victim’s cheek glorifying in the shiver it causes. “You were a hard one to find, though. So, when I finally found you, I had to snatch you up” I giggle and jump off his lap where I was straddling him, my high-heeled boots hitting the concrete floor with a decisive click. “Who are you?” my victim gasped out. I fake pout, “You don’t know who I am?” I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows who I am; he just wants to confirm it. “They call me the Black Demon” I watch his eyes widen, finally letting it sink in that his life is truly over. “You know why they call me that?” I ask with a tilt of my head, “Because I come in through the shadows, you never see me coming, then you leave the same way. Never to be seen again.” ​ I walk to my row of weapons, running my fingers over each one. Knives of all shapes and sizes. My favorite. But like I told my friend here, I don’t have time to play because I do have a date. I have been seeing Leo for about four months and so far, it was going great, but with everything else in my life, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. ​ Leo wasn’t my usual type. I usually liked them tattooed and rugged. We met at my favorite club, and his blue-green eyes drew me in like a moth to the flame; they changed colors with the light or his mood. His dark brown hair was thick on top and a perfect fade to his neck. He had plump lips that I loved to kiss and suck on. He had the perfect amount of stubble, a little thicker around those pretty lips. The gods sculpted his body themselves, lean but cut at all the right angles. Tonight was the night I saw it all in its glory. We had messed around, but we hadn’t had s*x yet because I was holding back. Not because I didn’t love s*x, I did. But I felt different about him than anyone else I’ve ever gone out with, so tonight, I was going to give him what both our bodies had been begging for. ​ I had on my favorite pair of black high-heeled ankle boots, black ripped skinny jeans that made my legs look long, a light blue baby doll tank that my boobs practically fell out of, and my signature black leather jacket. My long black hair was falling down my back in soft waves, the color of my tank making my light blue eyes stand out. ​ It was what was underneath that I couldn’t wait to show him. Matching lacey bra and thong, the same color as my tank top. ​ I hear a whimper from behind me and realize I'm daydreaming. Checking my phone and realizing my time was up, I picked up my favorite knife and turned toward my newest victim. ​ “You,” I say, pointing my knife at him, “Todd Gilroy are convicted of rape. Your daddy’s money has gotten you acquitted of all charges, but that’s where I come in” I walk towards him. “I get justice for all those girls that had to suffer through your rape and see you walk away without even a slap on the wrist.” ​ “I didn’t rape anyone!” Todd insists. I roll my eyes. “That’s what they all say. I don’t waste my time. I did my research. You’re a piece of s**t who likes to drug and rape them because you can’t get them any other way” I walk behind him and grab his hair, yanking his head back. ​ “You won’t get away with this,” he blubbers. “My dad…” I yank his hair again, making him yelp. “Your dad is next. I see that being a rapist runs in your family” I place my knife against his neck “Marciume all'inferno,” I murmur. ​ I drag my blade across his throat; it slices like a knife through butter. Always have to keep these babies sharp. I close my eyes and let the calmness that comes with these kills wash over me. I could feel it settle my mind and body like it always does. ​ I open my eyes and jump back before the blood can ruin my boots, listening to my friend Todd gurgle. “Ugh,” I say, walking over to clean my knife and place it back in its spot. ​ “Aren’t you going to be late?” Ryder asks. Ryder is my best friend and right-hand man. ​ I turn around to face him with a smile. He’s leaning against the doorway of my little homemade torture chamber, staring at a dead Todd with an eyebrow raised. ​ Ryder would be more my type if we hadn’t known each other since we were in diapers. Six-foot-three, ripped, thighs like tree trunks, and an ass to die for, his ass made me a little jealous. Dark hair and dark brown eyes. Thin hoops in each nostril, tattoos everywhere. The perfect definition of a broody alpha hole. Unless it came to me. I knew the real Ryder, and he knew the real me; neither of those was pretty. His dad was my dad’s right-hand man, so Ryder took the mantle with me when his dad retired after my dad died. ​ “No. I have a little time,” I reply, “What are you doing down here?” ​ He shoves off the wall, walking towards me. “Your uncle called,” I wrinkle my nose, and he chuckles, “He said he needs you to do that charity gala bullshit in two weeks.” ​ I sigh, ruffling the hair around my face. “Micah knows I hate those things. Nothing says let’s raise money for needy kids like a bunch of violent crime families.” ​ He chuckles again. “That’s what you get for being the leader.” ​ The thorn in my side. Before my dad died of cancer, he handed me the title of Boss, which made me the leader of the Italian Mafia. One of the most prominent Italian mafia presences in the United States was California which is where we Poletti’s made a name for ourselves. I was twenty- two at the time; now, at twenty-five, I still didn’t know what the f**k I was doing. That’s where my uncle Micah came in. He stepped up to help me out, so I didn’t drown. Losing my dad was hard enough without trying to keep this family together by myself with my guys. Recently, I stepped up, finally deciding to be who my dad trusted me to be. I’m sure that didn’t include being a serial killer, though.