by Piper Stone
“We need to protect our family and our people,” my father said with distinct conviction. “This shit is going to get violent.”
“And we will,” I stated, able to see how troubled he was. No one needed another bloody war, but we’d been pushed into a corner.
I glanced at Dartanian who lifted his eyebrows, shrugging slightly. While my brother was several years younger, only recently he’d made no bones about the fact he wanted a larger piece of the business, although I had serious reservations about what he could handle. It would seem the opportunity had presented itself. If the Los Charlines were forced out, he could inherit a significant portion of the coastal business. Maybe that would force him to grow the fuck up. When our father remained quiet, Dartanian walked toward the expansive bar, immediately grabbing two glasses. “Time for a drink. I know I could use one.”
I inched closer to the open doorway, the waning afternoon sun warm against my face. My father and I had never been particularly close, although he’d been a doting father. Since I’d been a teenager, our interactions had been strictly businesslike, devoid of any real emotions. Given the nature of the beast dwelling within me, that had always suited me just fine.
I had no room for feeding into emotional bullshit on any level. That only led to deadly mistakes.
“The shit is getting real, Father. Alviro has taken a stand.”
“Then the Dons’ concerns are justified. What happened?” my father asked quietly.
“A threat made to the entire family after offering a deal of taking only fifty percent,” I said, laughing. “There was a hired gun waiting for my departure. One of my enforcers is down.”
“Carlos?” My father never seemed troubled by any of these episodes. This time, he was shaken and only partially from anger.
“Yeah.”
“How is he?”
“The doctors aren’t certain. He has significant damage to his lungs.” I studied my father’s tired eyes. I wasn’t certain he could handle an open war, especially not on our own turf.
My father glanced into my eyes and I could see a hint of fear in them. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Just pissed I didn’t follow my instincts.”
“You did what you thought was right. The meeting had to occur,” my father stated firmly.
Dartanian huffed. “The bastard has some nerve. We need to deal with this immediately.”
“And we will but we will do so in our way, the Santiago way!” My father’s voice reverberated in the open space. He rubbed his forehead, cursing in Spanish.
“For what it’s worth, I’m not entirely certain the assassination attempt on my life was anything but another warning.”
A few seconds ticked by.
“That may very well be the case. There was also an attack on two of Don Caruso’s men, one of them also in critical condition. As you might imagine, word of Peron’s death leaked immediately. Without a doubt, the Los Charlines leader will take the assassination as a direct threat, likely what they hoped would happen. There is already fear of the additional revenge tactics being used.” My father hissed after issuing the words.
“Then I would take the threats seriously,” I said after sighing.
“Those bastards got exactly what they deserved,” Dartanian growled as he walked closer, holding out a scotch.
My father shot him a pointed look. “That may be true, but there is significant risk if we allow this to continue.”
“We knew we were taking a chance at pushing us into a war and that’s exactly what we’re going to be prepared for.” I continued to fume.
“At this point, we cannot underestimate Calleja,” my father suggested.
“Agreed. Javier’s wife and children should be placed under protection.” My father had always had a soft spot for the Georgian blonde with the dazzling smile.
“See that it comes to pass,” my father instructed Dartanian, my brother’s short nod the only acknowledgment.
When he didn’t suggest they be required to return to Spain, I knew his concerns were significant.
“Any information on Calleja’s location? We should end this right now. This is just the beginning and you know it,” Dartanian snarled as he offered me a drink.
As my father turned his head, his dark eyes penetrated into mine. “Don Piero has certain connections. According to his sources, it would appear that Alviro has already gone into hiding.”
“Hiding?” I was taken aback by the answer.
“Then he knows exactly what is going to happen to him given the attacks,” Dartanian stated.
“Even so, that isn’t like the asshole. He’s predictable as fuck, refusing to back down to anyone.” I shook my head, my grip around the glass already white-knuckled.
“Which makes him all the more dangerous, Rafael. You of all people know what occurs when a beast is let out of his cage.” My father’s gaze shifted to the hideous scar on my face and neck. I inadvertently brushed two fingers across the unsmooth edges. My father would never let me live down the single moment of weakness. All for nothing.
“We will find him. I’ll send several of our soldiers immediately. There’s nowhere that fucker can hide,” Dartanian stated in a commanding voice, still studying me carefully. He was well aware the damage caused had pushed me further into what my brother called a dark abyss. The black hole had been suffocating for a time, especially after the murder of our brother, something none of us had gotten over.
My father took his time, savoring his drink before turning toward me. “With him underground, we need to alter our methods of attack.”
“What does that mean?” Dartanian asked.
A full minute passed then my father simply walked out onto the patio.
“There are certain indications that Calleja’s operation is much larger than originally thought and that he has been preparing this war for some time. If that is the case, Peron’s murder simply added fuel to their fire, providing reason to the thousands of soldiers to follow their leader.” The implications from my father’s statement were disturbing.
“Peron was a scapegoat. Jesus Christ. He died for the cause,” I managed, shaking my head. Who did that kind of thing without being forced? I knew Peron had a family. Perhaps Calleja had promised to allow them to live for his great sacrifice.
“So it would seem. I believe that there is a significant risk to not only our family, but to that of our esteemed colleagues. They are understandably concerned about Calleja’s wrath, especially given his reputation. Steps are being made to protect their resources and their families and we will do the same. In the meantime, faith has been placed into our hands as to what to do next.”
“Calleja must be hunted and eliminated. There is no other choice,” I stated flatly.
Exhaling, my father turned in my direction. “Absolutely, but we must be smart about this. His elimination will cause strife within his ranks.”
“How do you suggest we find him?” Dartanian walked closer to the edge of the pool, staring down at the water. I could tell my brother had much more to say than he was offering and was only holding back out of respect for our father.
For the first time, my father smiled. “It would seem that Calleja has several locations throughout the world where he can hide without fear of being detected. Or so he believes. He also has business in several Spanish cities, although with some, he has men who run the operations. As you both know, Alviro is a chameleon of sorts, enjoying the game of disguise. While he is a true savage, cutting down anyone who crosses him, his greatest weapon is in the fact no one knows exactly what he looks like.”
Dartanian threw back the rest of his drink, walking closer. “The pig had been photographed several times.”
“That may be true, but has he ever appeared the same?” I asked, tilting my head in my brother’s direction.
My brother exhaled, snarling under his breath.
“We will find him. Don Piero is an excellent source of information. Besides, he owes me a s
ignificant favor, so the man will not cross me. For whatever reason the Los Charlines are biding their time; I assure you that Calleja will enjoy his sick game of hide and go hunt.” As my father shifted, walking closer to me, I could see the amusement in his eyes.
“Let me guess. You already have an idea of where he’ll hole up,” I said as I grinned. My father was a cunning man with an assortment of friends and acquaintances from all over the world in every industry.
He lifted his glass. “I believe I do. I think it’s time we alter our tactics. However, you will need to learn patience, Rafael. From what I know, Alviro is worried about you becoming the next leader of the Galicia mafia. If my instincts are correct, this game is all about seeing what you will do, even pushing your limits, but I assure you that we will find him. Or I should say, you will find him. It is past time the worthless gangs finally understand who will always be in charge.”
I noticed the disdain on Dartanian’s face, the resentment more than usual.
“And when the weasel surfaces from his hole?” Dartanian inched closer, his expression smug.
I tilted my glass in their direction. “Then I’ll be there to chop off his head.”
Chapter Four
Savannah
One week later
“I’m going to kill you, sweet pumpkin, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” His laugh filtered into my mind as it had done dozens, hundreds of times, his eyes full of hatred. As he lumbered forward, I stood my ground for the first time in years, my grip on the handle of the knife firm.
“Get the fuck away from me. You can’t hurt me any longer.”
“Little girl, I can do anything I damn well please. You belong to me.”
I clenched my eyes shut, refusing to fall into the same trap I had all week, memories rushing to the surface blindingly. Ever since the near attack six nights before, I’d slept maybe three hours a night, the images of the past mixing with the shadowy form of the asshole on the darkened street.
Think of something else. Anything.
My inner voice was more commanding than usual, yet she was right. I had to break the damn cycle, or I’d lose my fucking mind. I took a deep breath, holding it in. All I’d been able to smell during the last few days had been the reeking odor of blood. I’d stood over the hooded man who’d been determined to attack me, studying his vacant eyes. The knife wound had seemed more like a beautifully carved piece of art detailing his neck as well as the side of his face.
Whoever the mysterious stranger had been who’d saved my life, his skills had been exemplary. I bit back a moan as the scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted across my nose. Mmm... Finally, I could breathe easier, my mind shifting away from the horror.
I’d simply been dropped off at the wrong address, the very nice police officer explaining how easy it had been for the taxi driver to make the mistake.
Although I still didn’t buy it. I’d been purposely left in the shitty part of town. And the purpose? Something the officer hadn’t disclosed. However, I’d been able to understand the brief exchange he’d had with his partner.
Something about the same assholes again. As if there was a crime ring located in that neighborhood.
Think. Dream. A new experience.
Yes...
Passion.
Ravishing nights spent enveloped in the arms of a hard-bodied hunk, the kind of man who exuded masculinity in every look of his dashing blue eyes. The very same roughhewn hottie who longed to quench his thirst as well as his ravaging hunger, feasting on my lips.
My aching nipples.
My wet pussy.
“Untie your sash, Savannah.” He stood with his arms crossed, the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled past his elbows. The man was regal, his dark trousers matching the color of his ebony hair. Even the stubble covering his jaw was sexy as hell.
He was my lover.
My protector.
My master.
“Yes, sir.” I obeyed without hesitation, allowing the thin material to slide from my shoulders, slowly billowing to the floor. I dared to look him in the eyes and the way his nostrils flared gave me shivers. He was going to ravage every inch of me.
“Come here, little kitten,” he commanded.
I padded toward him, the feel of the cool concrete giving me another round of shivers. This was his playroom, his dungeon, the place of harsh discipline. I noticed the cage in the background, the metal bars shimmering in the LED lighting. I knew my punishment would entail being caged. I was a very bad girl.
As he took me into his arms, the feel of his hot, hard body against mine, I was breathless. Desire rushed through me like a tidal wave, leaving me aching with need.
He fisted my hair, yanking back until he exposed my neck. The sound of his savage growl thrilled me to the very core. “I am going to punish you for all your sins. Then I’m going to devour every inch of your body. And do you know why?”
“No, why?” I managed, clawing at his massive chest.
“Because I own you.”
I stared into his eyes, the dark pools shining with an iridescent glow. “Yes, sir.”
As he guided me toward the spanking bench, I wanted to plead with him that I’d be good, but I knew better. I’d take my punishment like a good girl. I leaned over, the cool air slicing across my bottom somehow comforting. I gritted my teeth as he positioned my arms and legs in the cuffs, snapping them into place.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, taking his time to walk around me in a full circle. “Perfect in every way.”
As he placed his hand on the small of my back, I pressed my face into the cool wood. Every part of me trembled as I heard the tinkle of his belt buckle. A pool of wetness developed between my legs, my pussy aching for his thick cock fucking me. Using me. I closed my eyes after gripping the edge of the table, taking several deep breaths. I twisted my wrists, the feel of the thick leather straps creating butterflies in my tummy. I knew he’d spank me long and hard.
The moment I heard the snap of his wrist, I clenched my bottom, the anticipation of anguish creating a hammering of my heart.
Whoosh!
Crack!
The single slap across my bottom was controlled, hitting me exactly in the sit spot. While the pain was instantaneous, I bit back a whimper, trying to keep from struggling. My master refused to accept anything less. As he brought down several more strikes, one coming immediately after the other, the anguish became blinding, forcing a slight moan past my lips.
I knew I deserved the harsh punishment, the spanking absolving me of my sins.
He gave me several more and I was able to catch the raggedness of his breathing, could sense his increasing desire. It wouldn’t be long before he used me.
“You will learn you must obey me at all times,” he stated in a ragged voice, the tone dripping of his increasing lust.
“Yes, sir,” I managed, hating the fact I’d disappointed him.
He ran his fingers down my spine, thrusting them into my pussy. “You’re wet for me, kitten.”
“Yes, sir.” I parted my legs as he plunged in a savage manner, my pussy muscles clenching and releasing several times. I ached all over from the burning desire, a level of longing I’d never had with another man.
Within seconds, the belt came down again, this time across my thighs. I yelped, my fingers twisting in the shackles.
With every strike of his belt, I felt closer to being absolved of my sins, cleansed as required.
“Now, I’m going to fuck you, kitten, and tonight will be very special. I’m going to fuck you in that tight little asshole of yours for the first time.”
“Jesus,” I whispered, my heart thudding just like in the vivid image. What the hell was wrong with me? Punished for my sins. A dungeon. Being fucked in the ass.
While it had been a long time since I’d been with a man, what I’d just envisioned was not going to happen. Never.
Ever.
I rolled my eyes, laughing at my ridiculous fantasy. I
wasn’t a true romantic, had never been. I didn’t believe in white picket fences or men saving the day. I definitely didn’t believe there was a single man out there who would sweep me into his arms, protecting me from the ill wills of the world. I certainly had never thought about being owned by anyone. Not after...
Swallowing, I walked from one painting to another, studying the brutal images. No wonder my imagination had gravitated toward such an egregious concept. Domination. Discipline. The art depicted women in cages, others strapped to various apparatuses, obviously ready to be spanked for their...
Sins.
Yes, the man who’d saved my life intrigued the hell out of me. He’d been dominating in every manner, reeking of power. A savior in the right place at the right time. Then poof, he’d disappeared. How often did that happen?
Inhaling, I folded my arms, swaying from side to side from the incredible strains of Spanish guitar flowing from the music system, the sensuous chords allowing my imagination to get the better of me.
“Come to me, mi vida,” he whispered as he beckoned for me.
My life. I was truly his life and he owned mine.
I inched closer, inhaling the amazing scent of his cologne, electrified from the sound of his husky voice. As I stood in front of him, gazing into his eyes, I could see such power behind his. He was dominating in every way, his lust for life keeping me on edge, thrilled at his commands.
I jerked away from the fantasy, biting my lower lip. I wasn’t that kind of woman and I certainly refused to succumb to any man under any terms.
Even in the beautiful city of A Coruna, Spain where the men were all sun-kissed and beautiful buff examples of mythological gods, I would refrain from any nefarious activities. The thug in the street was a solid reminder that men weren’t to be trusted on any level.
I turned in a full circle, my entire mind still ripe with the thought of unbridled passion. Every inch of my skin was on fire, tingling from excitement. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with the touch, taste, or interaction of a glorious Spanish man.
