by Stone, Piper
“That was incredible.”
Offering a slight smile, he lifted his head, searching to see if my words were the truth. “Music is an obsession that guides me, or at least it did at one time. However, it is also a weakness that can’t be afforded.”
“Another sadness in your life.”
“Another reality that cannot be ignored.” Just as soon as the concert began it was over. He stood, removing the wine from my hand, sliding it across the piano. His expression unreadable, he unfastened his trousers, releasing his cock then yanking me over the edge. He fisted my hair, wrenching my head as he pulled me toward him. He was so damn possessive, capturing my mouth before I could object.
While I did everything not to relinquish what little control I had, he managed to coax my lips to open, thrusting his tongue inside. He’d been drinking, the taste of bourbon or maybe scotch assaulting my senses. When I smashed my hands against him, he tugged my hair until pain seared the back of my neck.
He dominated my tongue, swishing his back and forth several times. His dominance was even more intense tonight, a desperate need to take absolute control. As the kiss continued, a growl pulsed from his throat, filling my ears, the animal in him ready to consume me.
I remained mortified that my mind was agreeing with my body, my own unbridled hunger unchained, longing to surrender. He left me breathless, my legs quivering and my pussy clenching and releasing several times.
His desire too great, he plunged the entire length of his cock inside, his body shaking from the savagery. His actions were jarring, so brutal. I clung to him, gripping his shoulders. When he finally broke the kiss, I whimpered from the harshness of what was happening as well as the rush of fire exploding deep within.
A wry smile crossed his face as he leaned over, crushing me against the piano. “As I said, I can take you any way I want.”
He refused to stop, driving harder and deeper, my muscles aching from being stretched. When they clamped down, I closed my eyes, lolling my head. His aggressive actions became a drug, euphoria in its rawest state. I clawed at his shirt, fighting to reach his skin. When I managed to do so, he shuddered, slowing his actions.
“Do you hunger for me, my little flower?”
“I…” There was no sense lying to him. “Yes.”
“Do you understand how much I crave your innocence, taking you a sweet reward?”
“I’m not innocent.”
“Ah, but you are. Sweet and vulnerable. Your fear is an aphrodisiac, your desire to taste the darkness pushing me toward that very element you seek. Be careful what you ask for. There is no return from a date with the devil.”
He threw back his head and roared, thrusting hard and fast, releasing his hold on my hand and skimming his fingers down my arm.
I was shattered by the moment, unable to stop my body’s reaction, a blinding orgasm sweeping through me.
“Oh. Oh. Oh!”
“That’s it. Come for me. Take all you want before I fill you with my seed.”
Excitement and pure bliss drilled into me as a single orgasm flowed into every inch, controlling my breathing. Lights flashed in front of my eyes as he wrapped my legs around his hips, my bottom tinkling the keys. The sensations were powerful, burning deep within. I arched my back, digging my nails into his shoulders as another wave swept through me. Everything around me was spinning, my heart racing.
The electricity we shared exploded, showering us with sparks and still he refused to stop. He was a wild man on a mission, his hunger knowing no bounds.
I could feel his muscles tightening. When I knew he was close to coming, I clenched my muscles, his cock swelling inside of me.
As his body began to shake violently, he leaned over until our lips were only inches apart. Only then did he fill me with his seed.
Panting, he held his stance for almost a full minute before pulling away.
I remained stunned, trying to catch my breath, my vision still foggy, but I knew he was adjusting his clothes, returning to the same heartless man as before. He said nothing for a few seconds then twisted his head in order to lock eyes with mine. “Get dressed, Daniella, then return to your room. I have additional business tomorrow, then I will remain home for a few days. Do not under any circumstances disobey me again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
He lowered his gaze, devouring me with his eyes then turning away once again. “Good.”
I winced with every footstep he took toward the door.
He hung in the doorway, his hand on the casing. “The violin was a wedding gift for my wife. I ripped her away from her life as a concert violinist, the very thing she’d wanted to do in her life. The gift was special to her, a joy for me to hear her play. I can’t bear to part with it and you’re right, the instrument is priceless.”
With that, he disappeared.
The violent criminal.
The brilliant musician.
The hard-hearted man.
Soulless. Guilt ridden. Angry.
And desirable.
Chapter 8
Michael
Loyalty.
The attribute was the one thing that was a requirement for working within the King Empire on any level, including informants who were paid well for their information. The fact one of what had been considered our most trusted informants had turned coat, tipping off the New Orleans police to a shipment arriving in Port Nola was not only unacceptable.
The act of treason was enough to warrant the ultimate punishment.
However the situation was handled, the act itself had to be seamless, without witnesses and without any chance of notification to the cantonal police. The last thing I needed to have happen was a tipoff that I’d arrived.
To that end, the Russian pig had been difficult to find, hunting him taking the better part of twenty-four hours and paid tips from locals. Fortunately, the fucker had been found. While Drago Antonov had connections to the Russian underground that had proven to be useful, I doubted his death would result in any kind of uprising. After all, the Russians fed off our leftovers, the small alliance providing additional manpower when necessary. They wouldn’t dare bite the hand that fed them.
I checked the amount of ammo, sliding in new clip. I’d yet to determine how I wanted to handle the situation.
“We should be getting close, boss,” Carlo said from the front seat.
I didn’t bother peering out the window. There was no reason to give a shit about the location, although the hour drive had given me time to think.
Daniella had seemed genuinely surprised her brother’s name had even been mentioned. While I’d been exposed to dozens of people who’d attempted to hide behind the truth, becoming almost convincing in their lies, my instinct was telling me that the innocent teacher was exactly as she portrayed herself to be. Zero knowledge of her brother’s lifestyle.
The probability that she hadn’t been involved was increasing much like my certain feelings for her. Hissing, I rubbed my jaw, my thoughts remaining on the night before. The fact she’d invaded my space had been expected, although her audacity in actually playing one of the instruments had been surprising. But she played beautifully, the sonata instantly dragging me back to the happiest time of my life. I’d stood in the doorway for almost two minutes before barging in, drinking in the music until I ached inside.
Why the hell I’d played the piano was beyond me, but the moment had been cathartic, allowing a portion of the sadness to fade away. Still, returning to the house had been a mistake. I should have returned to Key West, hunting down the fucker responsible. Emmanuel Santiago was a formidable enemy, but given his age and continued sadistic proclivities, an easy target. War or no war, it was past time to present the Kings’ power as the only option in South Florida.
Cristiano and I would have words to that effect upon my return. While I enjoyed the challenges of running one of the most popular clubs in several states, my itch to gain additional power continued to grow.
/> More so every day.
Early morning light was beginning to appear over the horizon, the blue-gray sky indicating another cloudy day, another round of snow and ice likely. I laughed to myself, thoughts of enjoying a roaring fire and the sounds of soft music more desirable than I wanted to admit. It had been a hell of a long time since I’d taken any time off, especially during the months Cristiano had been in prison. Business had been even more difficult during that period, our various enemies challenging us on every front. What little time I’d spent at home had been consumed with spending time with the twins. I refused to allow them to grow up with a nanny as their primary caretaker.
Why did the thought bother me so much? Because I was standing in my brothers’ shadows or because I’d become the same kind of man my father had been? Cold. Heartless. Uncaring. His recent change, actually giving a damn about his family had only been because of his illness. It would seem facing death could change a man.
I knew that all too well.
When the SUV began to slow, I finally gazed out the window, exhaling. I’d expected a dump. I should have known better. The Russian enjoyed living large, exploiting his money with expensive sports cars, liquors, and hookers. In my mind, he’d become a liability a hell of a long time ago.
The chalet was no exception, the location almost as grandiose as the house I’d purchased eight years before. Given the early hour, it was likely Drago remained in a drunken stupor. I grinned at the thought, climbing out into the cold air, immediately scanning the surroundings. The chalet was positioned on a higher peak than mine, no other homes in sight. Whether renting or a recent purchase, he’d paid a pretty penny for privacy. Both Carlo and Sloan surveyed the entire property, ensuring there wouldn’t be any trouble.
Carlo headed in my direction, giving a slight nod. “Impressive drop-off. From what I know, there isn’t a security system.”
“Let’s hope you’re right, Carlo. Messy I don’t need.”
I switched my gaze in the direction he indicated, making note of the fact. After taking a deep breath, I headed for the front door, studying the double lock then peering in through the side windows. Seeing no activity, I pulled a small satchel from my pocket. While making a grand entrance was often helpful, in this case, silence would be a virtue.
I’d learned when I was a boy to pick almost any lock, my father insisting that every one of his children have certain skills in order to survive. He’d been the one to place a gun in my hand when I turned twelve, the same for my brothers. Only my sister had been allowed to enjoy a full eighteen years of childhood before becoming indoctrinated into the Kings’ dark empire.
Within seconds, the locks were picked, allowing us access. No direction was needed, Carlo and Sloan ensuring there would be no surprise guests. I moved up the stairs, eyeing the austere but functional interior. The house was definitely a rental, the layout much like the majority of chalets.
Carlo returned first, shaking his head indicating the bottom floor was clear. I nodded toward the stairs, allowing Carlo to go ahead of me. I took my time, unbuttoning my coat in preparation of my discussion with Drago.
By the time I made it to the top floor, the only room remaining in question to search was at the end of the hall. At this point, my patience had waned. I wasted no time, kicking in the door and storming inside.
The single scream was entirely female, the grunt following decidedly male. As Drago tossed back the covers, stumbling out of bed, he made no attempt to provide any level of care or safety for the female lying naked beside him. When he reached for his weapon on the nightstand beside the bed, I’d already beaten him to it, grabbing and shoving the gun in my pocket.
Only then did he understand what he was facing, snarling as he rose to his feet, his eyes remaining glassy.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barked.
As the female rushed out of bed, attempting to cover her naked body, Sloan grabbed her, throwing his arm around her neck. Her continued screams were annoying, but there was no one else to hear her cries.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Drago yelled.
I took a deep breath, walking closer, allowing my gaze to fall to his limp dick then back to his face. “You should know that calling a lady disgusting names isn’t very gentlemanly of you.”
He snickered, cursing in Russian. “That is no lady, King.”
Chuckling, I remained with my hands folded in front of me, my fingers wrapped around the Glock. “Then it’s a shame you didn’t keep better company.”
Drago eyed me carefully, but the nervous tic on the side of his mouth indicated he was beginning to accept the fact he would be punished. His eyes continued to dart toward another door in the room, perhaps a way to escape.
I turned away, taking several steps in the opposite direction. “It would seem that you forgot about the deal you made with the King family. Did you feel that you were underpaid for the information you provided?”
His snort was meant to rile me. Sadly, it did. “You and your family think you are true kings when you are nothing but rats in a cage.”
The words instantly drew red flags, the same ones issued by Diego Santiago seconds before his life was ended. I turned swiftly just as he bolted for the very door he’d been coveting. Within seconds, I had my hand wrapped around his throat, the barrel of my gun positioned at his temple. “An interesting expression.”
Even though my fingers were likely cutting off his air supply, he managed to grin, the defiance in his eyes pissing me off. “Besthrebetnaya svin’ya.”
I’d heard the term on dozens of occasions, although spineless pig meant nothing to me. His defection to the Santiagos was obvious, which confirmed the family’s intent on attempting to claim a portion of New Orleans as well as Key West. “Mertvets,” I offered, the term dead man something he should understand.
Although the man outweighed me by a solid fifty pounds, the level of adrenaline pumping through my body was all I needed to shove him toward the set of glass doors leading to an oversized balcony, one that overlooked the very deep ravine Carlo had mentioned. Within seconds, I had him outside and pushed against the railing.
“You have one chance to tell me who’s paying you and their intent.”
He grinned, his eyes holding amusement. “Fuck you.” When the bastard dared to throw a punch, hitting me square in the chest, the force was enough to break the hold. He lunged forward, prepared for a fight oblivious to the frigid temperatures or the ice covering the deck’s surface.
With a single snap of my wrist, I brought the cold hard steel of my weapon against the side of his head. Pummeled backwards, Drago slipped on the ice. In his effort to remain standing, his body went airborne, slamming against the railing then tumbling backward. His guttural screams were a decent reward to the ache already developing in my gut.
I took a deep breath before moving to the edge of the deck and peering over. His fingers remained wrapped around the bottom board on the railing, his lower torso swinging precariously.
“I’m in a generous mood today, Drago. I’ll be glad to hoist you over the railing if you’ll tell me what I need to know.”
“Perhaps you’d prefer to know about your wife.” He dared to laugh, enjoying every moment of making my skin crawl.
What the hell?
My anger blinding, I pointed the gun toward his face, prepared to fire. “Tell me, you wretched piece of shit.”
“Poshel ty na khuy.”
It had been some time since I heard ‘fuck you’ in Russian. “Very well.” I turned away, walking toward the door, doing everything I could to control my anger. Before I had a chance to return to the warmth, my second reward of the day was the echo his bellow made as he began his descent.
Straight into hell.
What the fuck was going on?
“What should we do with the girl?” Carlo asked.
I shifted my attention to the terrified woman, her body shaking. The horror in her eyes was enough to confirm she’d bee
n nothing but his entertainment for the night. My promise to Daniella also entered my mind, even though my rage pushed me toward continuing the carnage. “Tie her to the bed. I’m certain her employers will eventually determine her location.” As I headed down the stairs, I returned the Glock to my holster. It would seem that coming to Switzerland had been useful after all.
Before exiting the house, I dialed Cristiano’s number, surprised when he picked up the phone. “You’re still awake.”
“A small party at my house, brother. You should try it some time.”
I couldn’t help but smile. His relationship with the lovely Ms. Porter had brought about a side of him I hadn’t expected, although it was time to initiate a war. “I’m in no mood, Cristiano. Drago Antonov is dead, but not without pissing me off. We’ll need to go into battle, it would seem.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It would seem our Russian informant was working with the Santiagos.” I allowed the news to sink in.
“Fuck. The asshole told you that?”
“In a manner of speaking. That means both Key West and New Orleans are in their line of sight. We need to prepare for an all-out war.”
Cristiano sighed. “I think we might have a more significant issue on our hands. Joseph made a trip to Key West determining that Emmanuel Santiago is a very sick man. From what Joseph told me, Emmanuel is likely to be transferred into hospice within days, his condition severe. Our Consigliere is going to remain in Key West to try and speak with him if possible. The odds aren’t good and he’s getting backlash from the men protecting Emmanuel.”
“Which means they were anticipating our interference.”
There was a distinct hesitation before Cristiano answered, “Possibly, but we still need to be very careful how we handle this.”
“Emmanuel’s illness doesn’t mean he didn’t order the hit as well as to initiate plans for takeover.”
“Granted, but he’s been in and out of consciousness for almost two weeks.”
