Prey: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Piper Stone

  But if she was right, she’d hunt and arrest the most notorious criminal of her career. The thought was juicy indeed.

  Your lover.

  The man you still dream about.

  The enemy you hunger for...

  The little voice pinged at her again, creating a slight wave of nausea. She enjoyed the usual anger, not this bullshit. He was a killer. That was it. Nothing more.

  Period.

  Huffing, she wanted a bottle of tequila to calm her nerves, but she was determined to see this through. Her way.

  “You’re a submissive, Ashley, born and bred. You desire a strong man with a firm hand. I am that man.”

  The bastard was an arrogant fuck as well.

  She didn’t need anyone, especially a man.

  As she gathered her intel and prepared to change into something more comfortable for the night’s work, her finger hovered over a bland-looking icon located on her desktop. She went there nightly, allowing the true girl inside to feel free, living vicariously as another personality. No one could understand her needs, her dark cravings.

  Except for Wrath.

  She bit her lip to keep from moaning.

  While she’d never explored them intimately before her sick and twisted tryst, she’d dreamed of submitting, giving her body and will freely to a man, her lover and her master. Wrath had managed to figure that out within minutes of being together. He’d opened the door, and just as he’d told her, he’d exposed the woman behind the mask. Maybe she really was Ashley in disguise. She fingered the locket, the piece still remaining close. She’d even considered getting a dog, although the poor creature wouldn’t be able to tolerate her odd hours.

  Or her mood swings.

  The draw of the internet remained strong, just another haunting round of heady guilt.

  She clenched her fist; she shouldn’t be doing this. A man’s life was at stake, at least if Harry was correct in what he’d overheard. There was no indication that anyone would be coming in town tonight, especially given this time of night. Even so, would Wrath be lying in wait? That wasn’t his style. She swallowed the lump in her throat before tapping on the link. The moment her blog pulled up, she felt sick to her stomach. Why?

  The voice inside her head was quick to provide a truthful statement. Because you crave Wrath. There had to be something fundamentally wrong with her. Desiring a criminal, a cold-blooded killer? A guttural groan slipped from her lips. Every dream, every vision had been of him. Subduing her.

  Shackling her.

  Punishing her.

  Fucking her.

  Igniting the passion furrowing inside that she’d been allowed to taste.

  “Damn it!” The words rang in the living room, almost echoing, a haunting reminder that she was all alone and had been for a full two years. As if the previous relationship had any spark. They’d been two people passing in the night, occasionally sharing dinner and mediocre sex.

  Certainly not what romance novels were made of.

  She sat up straight and pulled up her most recent blog, exhaling as she read the title. She hadn’t even been able to hit publish on the damn thing. Complete submission. What I wouldn’t give. Perfect. If her partner obtained a copy of this, she’d be the laughing stock of the entire department. Maybe she’d get thrown out of the FBI. They didn’t take kindly to carnal encounters. As if she was going to have another one after falling prey to a man like Wrath.

  This was ridiculous. As she was about to click off the program, she just happened to notice her stats. Wait a minute. Someone had not only read her blog but actually made a comment on one of the older pieces. This was a first. She scrolled down and had to read the statement twice. Every muscle in her body was twitching.

  If I were the man lucky enough to own you, I would make certain you were trained, protected, and loved. And you would serve me, my needs and every desire, punishment swift and severe for any and all infractions. In time, the woman clawing to become free would dance, the peace of submitting filling your empty soul.

  She half laughed as her pussy quivered. The words were exactly what she craved hearing. The signature? Anonymous. Uh-huh. Tapping her finger on the keyboard, her instinct moved into overtime. The words were exactly like something Wrath would have said in an effort to keep her on edge.

  Why the hell not answer? She had to admit, the game was enjoyable, even though this time, he was going to be the one who lost.

  That is exactly what I’ve needed my entire life.

  * * *

  Sophia left Rickenbacker Causeway, entering into Key Biscayne and when she pulled to a light, she checked her GPS. She’d only been on the island a few times since moving to Miami, the beautiful white sandy beaches, expensive homes, and posh resorts way out of her league. Even the restaurants were pricy. This was a perfect setting for seclusion.

  This was also perfect for an assassination.

  She hadn’t planned out the visit, other than being in a position to case the estate then waiting all night until the new tenant arrived if necessary. In the time she’d left, there’d been two calls from her partner and one from Director Montgomery, which she’d ignored. If this didn’t pan out, the morning was going to be rough.

  The drive took less than ten minutes, but the gated entrance was a setback. Using extreme caution, she parked the car out of sight and made certain she had enough ammunition. After checking her mirrors, she rolled her eyes before leaving left her vehicle. The last thing she needed was to have the police called. Walking the perimeter, she was unable to catch even a glimpse of the house, but she was aware from the internet pictures that there was a back entrance. She headed toward the side, scooting between the tall hedges and the brick wall surrounding the property.

  Every step she took was with caution, her gun in her hand. When she reached the rear, she could see how the wall sloped down. The back gate was locked. The only concept was to make it over the wall. Very carefully, she managed to crawl on top, the stone uneven in several places and allowing for secure footing. She eased over, dropping to the ground and waiting. Listening. There were no telltale signs, no barking dogs or flashing lights. She’d maneuvered the wall without being detected.

  Sophia kept low to the ground as she moved through the pristine landscaping, seeing a shimmering illumination just up ahead. She remained in the shadows as she shifted a flowering shrub, the fragrance filling her nostrils. The estate had been built for the wealthy, the privileged and beautiful people, those who could easily afford Ferraris. She chuckled at the thought. This was a perfect house for Wrath, modern with flair.

  The gun firmly planted in her hand, she inched closer to the pool. The lights emitted from under the water along with the gushing waterfall suggested the home had been prepared for a new arrival. Everything appeared magical, a breathtaking view of just how the rest of the world lived. Colorful umbrellas adorned the decking, tables and lounge chairs positioned just so, lined up in an organized fashion. The light wind allowed the scent of every stunning tropical arrangement, flowering shrubs and flowers adorning several huge clay pots to waft across her nose. What an incredible place.

  She could see no signs of anyone having been outside, at least recently. There were no water stains, no leftover drink glasses or ashtrays. Her steps slow and deliberate, she made her way to the expansive floor-to-ceiling doors flanking the entire back. She darted her head around the first pillar, trying to gather a look inside. From what she was able to see, the only internal lights were those of some form of nightlights. She tried the first door.

  Locked.

  The second was also locked. There was no doubt an extensive alarm system, but at least she could gather the layout and find the most secure areas, those in which she could hide then wait. The thought was beginning to sound ridiculous. How did she even know that Harry was telling her the truth? The kid was a junkie, for Christ’s sake. Undaunted, she shoved a strand of hair behind her ear and inched forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a slight
flutter. Her gun in position, she hunkered down until she realized what she was seeing.

  A light sheer drape was blowing through what appeared to be a crack in the door. Immediately she moved further into the shadows. Would a real estate agent or caretaker be this careless? An odd feeling formed in her stomach, her instinct on high alert. Something about this didn’t feel right. Not on any level. Sweeping the entire area with her eyes, she held her breath as she thought about the best course of action. A crime in progress? There were far too many questions.

  While her gut told her to move back to her car, immediately calling this in, she decided otherwise. This could garner her a suspension, if not termination, but if she wanted to catch Wrath Constantino, rigorous and entirely different methods were going to have to be used. Every step with precision, she moved closer to the door, listening again. Nothing had changed.

  She placed her hand on the edge, pushing. When the rollers creaked, sticking, she cringed and held back. A few seconds later she tried again, opening just enough to be able to slip inside. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she followed protocol as she walked around the perimeter. There were no outward signs of recent activity.

  Noticing a set of stairs, she used caution as she advanced, step after step, her eyes constantly moving. Her nerves were on edge, her palms sweating as she gripped the cold steel of her gun. Everything about this screamed of a setup, but who could have gotten to Harry? Her CI had clandestine ties at best to the FBI, let alone to her as the handler. For anyone to have found out meant...

  Her hackles raised, she stopped on the landing, blinking in order to focus. The staircase had led to what appeared to be the main floor. Only the light of the moon streaming in through the wall-to-wall windows highlighted the interior. The living room was empty, but she gathered a scent, a fragrance that she couldn’t place. Where was this coming from? She stood in the middle of the room, turning in a full circle, identifying areas of the house.

  The kitchen. The scent had to be coming from the kitchen. The almost sickeningly sweet combination of flowers gave her chills. Lavender and roses. She held her breath as she walked in the direction of the fragrance. The gleaming appliances and austere environment made the room seem cold, uninviting given the shadows created by the moon. A slight ticking noise drew her attention and while she knew the source, the refrigerator, she took a deep breath, the sound rattled. A few steps in and she froze.

  A candle was lit, sitting smack in the middle of the island. From where she stood, the flickering flame gave an ominous appearance to the entire space. Sophia was terrified, goosebumps popping along her arms. A quick wipe of perspiration from her brow and she inched along the far counter, creeping closer until she was only a foot away from the candle. There was a note, the writing bold and beautifully written. Another step and she had the note in her hand.

  No. No! Her fingers numb, the thin paper slipped out of her hands, fluttering to the counter in slow motion. The words, her words were staring back at her.

  Submission...

  The word lingers in my mouth, creating tingles dancing throughout my body.

  She backed away, taking short and calculated steps. Every concept she’d learned and all the training she’d had forced her into a difficult understanding.

  She’d been played.

  Again.

  Every portion of her body quivered, her pussy clenching even as a rush of blinding rage entered her system. She hated the man, longed to see him dead. Then why had her body betrayed her for the nth time, driving her into a state of madness? She kept her finger on the trigger, her mind reeling. “Clever.”

  “We meet again,” he chuckled. “I’m no more clever than you are, sweetheart. You’ve been on a vendetta to hunt me down for months.”

  The masculine voice was deep, the sensual baritone floating all around her. Sophia spun around, aiming the gun at chest level. “What. The. Hell.” He was in the shadows, the perpetrator, the man who’d purposely led her here. And there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind who he was.

  Wrath.

  He’d found her blog. He’d located her CI. He’d secured private information about her.

  “I suggest you come out with your hands up,” she stated, keeping the tremor out of her voice.

  The brusque chuckle sent shivers down her spine. He took two steps, inching closer yet keeping his face hidden by the darkness. “I don’t really think you want to kill me, Sophia. In fact, I believe you’re curious about me, just as you were before.”

  “Curious about a cold-blooded murderer killing innocent people? Only in the sense of how to capture you. Let me see your hands.” Her entire body was rigid, her heart racing.

  “Innocent? That’s where you’re wrong. There were distinct reasons for every one of the people I killed. They were all monsters.”

  “You have to be out of your mind,” she huffed.

  “Do you know how many drugs were prevented from entering your precious United States given my last... contract?”

  The way his lust-filled voice swept through her kept her stunned, her heart racing. “He was also a human being. What about Stephen Wallace?”

  Wrath snorted. “Wallace appeared like a boy scout on paper, but he was in discussions with the Russians regarding his security system. If the software had gone online, the entire world would have known the brutality of the KGB within days. I did the Americans a favor.”

  A small part of her wanted to believe him, but she knew the asshole would say anything to get himself out of this, as well as to earn her trust once again.

  That was never going to happen.

  “How did you find him?” she asked, uncertain she wanted to hear the answer.

  He smiled. “I have various methods I use. It’s amazing what people will tell you.”

  Her mind floated back to the possibility of an informant. The leak would have to come from an individual on Mr. Wallace’s protection team. Now that he’d all but confirmed this, her first call after arresting Wrath would be to the director. He’d have a field day hunting down the person who betrayed the sanctity of the FBI.

  “Did I tell you during the time we spent together that I’m an expert marksman? The best in my class. I suggest you follow my orders and come out here with your hands up,” Sophia directed.

  The hesitation and silence were daunting as fuck, driving her adrenaline to an even higher level.

  Finally, Wrath took two long strides forward, his hands in the air.

  Now she could see the smirk on his face, could sense he was mocking her. When he took another step closer, far too close, she recoiled and knew he’d homed in on the fact her hands were shaking. His eyes seemed to be shining, illuminating the sexy lines created by his smile. Even the way strands of hair fell across his forehead gave him an alluring appearance. My God, she was thinking of this man as attractive after all the lies. What the fuck was wrong with her?

  But he is...

  She ignored the inner voice, cocking her head and giving him a nasty glare.

  His hands were in the air and he turned in a complete circle, the move smooth and easy. “As you can see, I mean you no harm. In fact, I’m thrilled to see you again. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” His eyes fell to the locket, his nostrils flaring.

  Dear God, he sounded sincere. Even his eyes had a look of honesty. She reacted, fingering the necklace, visions rushing into the back of her mind. The BDSM club. Dinner by the beach. Wine. Spanking. Hot sex.

  No. No! She wasn’t going to fall for this crap again.

  “And you’re wearing the necklace, a product of a fantasy, or was it just a game, sweet Sophia? Either way, it appears you’ve thought of me often. By chance, have you purchased a Golden Retriever yet?”

  “Cut the bullshit.”

  “Have you thought about me late at night, the electricity we shared? Can you not feel it now tingling through your body?” Wrath narrowed his eyes, allowing his heated gaze to sweep up and down.

  �
�What is the old adage about fooling me twice? Not going to happen again, Wrath. Just cut the crap. Your days of basking in wealth have been terminated.”

  He exhaled, his expression darkening.

  “Come closer,” she demanded. Reaching out, she struggled to find a light.

  “To your left,” he said then chuckled. “The light. Isn’t that what you’re looking for?”

  Hissing, she flicked the switch. White light cascaded throughout the kitchen. Swallowing, she took a decided step closer. Wearing a cerulean blue silk shirt and gray trousers, everything about his sexiness was unassuming.

  “I’m certain you’re going to want to pat me down for weapons, Agent Waters.”

  She wanted nothing more than to wipe the asinine grin off his face.

  As he turned again, she concentrated on the contour of his ass, his long legs then closed the distance, the gun still in one hand as she patted him down.

  “I assure you that all my weaponry is in another room.” He darted a look over his shoulder. “No hidden swords or knives.”

  The scent of him was captivating, musky, and almost intoxicating. She was forced to hold her breath until she was finished. She stepped to her original position, fighting raw emotions. The same tingling of electricity returned with a vengeance. “Why the cat and mouse games?”

  Wrath faced her, tilting his head as he gave her a once-over. “You’d look far more beautiful in a dress, vibrant in color, accentuating your voluptuous body. I remember the way you looked in the casino. Captivating. Then our time in South Beach, magnifico.”

  “Did you enjoy taking Officer Renier’s life, pretending to be him?”

  Wrath’s eyes narrowed. “I do what must be done, sweet Sophia. Even poor Pierre had certain proclivities that were quite disgusting. I did everyone a favor.”

  The audacity of this man was unbelievable. “Turn the fuck around and place your hands behind your head. You’re under arrest...” She gave the usual words, the basics of being able to take him in legally, but she had no comprehension of the words she’d spoken.