by Piper Stone
His as Payment
By
Piper Stone
Copyright © 2019 by Stormy Night Publications and Piper Stone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Stone, Piper
His as Payment
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Image by Shutterstock/Africa Studio
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone
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Chapter One
Dominick
Only in darkness can I feel the light...
The thought was revealing. A monster’s personality. My father coined the word ‘primal’ for his second born son, a spawn he’d shared proudly with everyone in and outside the traditional family, the Borgata. The term was perfect for a man ascending to the throne.
I was ruthless and heartless both in business and in the ways of pleasure, preferring more sadistic methods of passion. My first love would always be making money and I was rich and powerful in ways few could dream of.
I was also on borrowed time.
That was the way of crime families, only one step away from hitting the front page of the New York Times. Murdered in cold blood. Horrendous acts of revenge.
Retaliation.
The statements fit our way of life, but given the power and influence, we didn’t give a fuck about our chances of meeting the grim reaper. What we did care about was eradicating our enemies.
This was the same for the men I’d gathered into a special club, ill-advised at best and one kept secret from our fathers. After all, we were considered mortal enemies. However, there was an additional connection, a friendship my father had with the Chicago Don, one that had transcended various turf wars over the years. Carmine Francesco was four years my father’s senior, but by all accounts, he had a firm hold on the Midwest. And my father? Brutal.
Unforgiving.
And some said ready to turn over his kingdom to his son.
I took a sip of my drink, savoring the delicious and very expensive bourbon. The five bureaus, as many referred the mafia kingdoms, remained masters of the underground, controlling everything from transportation and the country’s supply of heroin to the movie and music industry. Few Americans truly understood our far-reaching tentacles.
Or the danger we presented.
I eyed the last man to enter the private room, holding back a vicious sneer at his swagger. “You’re late.” I swirled the tumbler, concentrating on the way the melting ice clicked against the thick glass. This wasn’t my first drink of the day nor would it be my last. We had business to conduct, brutal business. Decisions we made tonight would consume the lives of our enemies.
I didn’t care for Lorenzo Francesco, merely tolerating his acceptance into our club; however, he was considered royalty within our ranks. I’d known him for years, loathing his tactics. Sadly, shunning him could mean a horrific turf war—even with the friendship between fathers. Lorenzo was certainly more powerful than the others. Or perhaps I should say, well connected.
“Dominick Lugiano, my friend.” Lorenzo held out his arms as he approached the table, staring directly into my hard, cold eyes.
“Sit down, Lorenzo,” Aleksei barked, the Russian accent more prevalent than usual. He was a second-generation immigrant, his father, Aleksandr Petrov having strong-armed his way into Philadelphia. The Bratvas were savage, angry, and barbarian in nature, but effective in dealing with those who opposed them. I had complete respect for their regime.
Lorenzo chuckled and adjusted his suit jacket before easing into his usual place, tapping his fingers on the table. “Where the hell is the waitress?”
“Keep your voice down,” Miguel remarked. The Miami syndicate was well known for their brutal tactics, but certainly none greater than those in New York. Still, the Garcia family was highly respected among the various kingpins.
I took a sip of my drink, keeping my own rage at bay, noticing that the fifth in our group was paying zero attention, preferring to text on his phone, no doubt to his agent. Kelan Rock preferred his life as a movie star to accepting his role as the up and coming Don of Los Angeles. I had a feeling the man would have a difficult road in the future.
As if on cue, the only waitress ever allowed in our private section eased into the room. She was beautiful, albeit barely twenty-one, and considered off limits to all of us.
A terrible shame but one we honored collectively.
I wouldn’t mind introducing her to the darkest side of kink.
I held the conversation until she’d positioned the drinks, enjoying the leering eyes of every man surrounding the table. We never varied from our selection, one she knew very well. She earned her tips in various ways, her lovely figure being one of them. When the door was closed, I leaned over the table.
“Why are we here?” Lorenzo lifted an eyebrow, his contempt at our meetings obvious.
“Drummand Hargrove.” I waited as the name sank in, glancing at every one of my associates. They were well aware of my unconditional tactics, but this meeting was geared toward eliminating my satisfaction of an issue. Their role was limited to necessary support; paving the way with law enforcement and street thugs. Comparing notes was merely a perk of our industry. We took a vote and stood by our decision, no matter the consequences.
“The state senator?” Aleksei finally asked.
“The very one.”
“What beef do you have with him?” Miguel was already smiling as if he knew the answer.
I took a deep breath before answering. “He’s systematically trying to shut down our shipping and trucking businesses, forcing extra tariffs and making it almost impossible for our workers to make ends meet. They haven’t been able to pay their... taxes in the last two months. In addition, he’s behind a new set of proposed regulations on casinos, which is a total crock of shit given his proclivities. As you can imagine, none of this sits well with my father.” I always chose my words carefully.
“I bet not,” Aleksei snarked. “Your father is a vicious man. Why doesn’t he deal with this?” The words were offered with pride.
“I heard your father is considering giving you the nod,” Lorenzo stated.
I slowly turned my head in Lorenzo’s direction. News of this nature always traveled fast. There was no hiding the fact I’d been prepared to take the throne, but my father wasn’t ready to give up the reins. Our family had a firm hold on New York. What we’d been able to accomplish during the last six months had been considerable. Cleaning up the streets in a way our fathers refused to do. I shifted my gaze back to Aleksei. “Because his tactics would create a war.”
“What’s this senator’s nemesis?” Lorenzo toyed with his drink.
“Gambling and women.” My answer was
succinct. I had him in my clutches with no way out.
“Two things that don’t bode well on the political circuit. I heard he was considering a run for president.” Kelan finally joined in the conversation, his light blue eyes sparkling. “Heard some fascinating shit about what he likes doing to very young girls. Tying them up. Beating. Not a good guy.”
Lorenzo burst into laughter. “A shithead. Perfect. What do you want in return for allowing him to keep his... reputation?”
I leaned back, envisioning my prize as my cock throbbed and my balls tightened. I wanted to crush him in a manner he’d never forget. “His daughter.”
There was no conversation. The vote was unanimous in my favor.
* * *
The ballroom was decorated in various hues of silver and blue; from what I’d heard the colors of the senator’s alma mater. I couldn’t care less, but the swanky party was perfect for exacting my revenge.
“Champagne, sir?” the girl asked, batting her eyelashes as she gave me a seductive smile. In her hand was a tray full of crystal flutes.
Preparing for the upcoming celebration.
“Absolutely. I’m in a fantastic mood.” I grabbed a glass, allowing my gaze to linger on her voluptuous breasts. I was hungry as hell tonight. The taste of the bubbly was spectacular. The senator had spared no expense in touting his brand of bullshit. “Tell me, do you have any idea where the senator is?”
“I think he’s in the next room,” she purred.
I lifted my glass in appreciation before glancing toward the main opening. If the accounts were correct, Senator Hargrove would announce his candidacy at precisely nine p.m. He was a man of many things, including a static regimen. I could appreciate that, even though he was a true lowlife. I’d been given the opportunity to see pictures of his extracurricular and very kinky activities. The asshole was a true pig.
I enjoyed the scenery, walking through the crowd of celebrities, influencers, and low-level politicians hanging on the senator’s coattails. This would prove to be a fascinating evening. When I saw her, I stopped short, gazing from afar. I was a man who usually took what he wanted without care of recourse, but the game was far too important to risk giving Drummand any concept of an upper hand.
But I could enjoy the view.
Caroline Hargrove was magnificent, her copper-colored hair flowing all the way down to the small of her waist. With her standing under a burst of shimmering light near the bar, surrounded by a group of admirers, I was able to enjoy every aspect of her beauty. She was fortunate to have her mother’s looks, beautiful in a voluptuous manner. Her hourglass figure and long legs had always created a twitch in my cock and tonight was no exception. She was Drummand’s only child, at least that had been acknowledged in the press. Very protected, her life had been more of a fairytale.
She’d attended the finest schools, graduating college a little over a year ago with a degree in business. However, her true love was painting, and I’d already found out that she had a gallery showing tomorrow night. I would be there. She was witty and charming, even more so when surrounded by her friends. In public, she attempted to toe the line, but was extremely opinionated and desperately in need of discipline. I couldn’t wait to peel away the layers, exposing the glorious and very submissive side that I knew dwelled within her.
Tonight, she held court, four female friends gushing over every aspect of the evening.
I’d learned as much about her as possible, finding out aspects about her likes and dislikes, from clothing to wine. I knew exactly how to entice her darkest fantasies, spark the woman who was living in a glass cage. I would ply her with gifts, pervert her with my depraved desires, and undo her with my touch. I’d give her the kind of unbridled pleasure she never knew existed and all for a single price.
Obedience.
I polished off the champagne and checked my watch. Perfect. I didn’t care what table I set the glass down on as I left the room, finding the senator all alone in a suite meant for a king. I stood in the doorway, studying him. He seemed edgy, his lips moving in silence as he read words from a piece of paper. No doubt his fabulous speech for the American people.
I didn’t bother knocking, taking long strides inside.
He finally sensed a presence, jerking his head from his steadfast focus. “Dominick. What... What are you doing here?” The fear in his voice was palpable.
“Why, celebrating your upcoming announcement, Senator. You should be very proud of your accomplishments.” I patted my chest as I looked around the room. They’d furnished the space with food and drink, plush seating, and not one but three oversized televisions, all to glorify his bullshit. I walked toward the bar, making myself a drink then stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, peering out at the gorgeous city. My city. And all the while, he didn’t utter a single word.
I was able to see his reflection in the crystal-clear glass, even the nervous tic that had appeared in the corner of his mouth. I was certain the man was sweating in his very expensive Armani tuxedo.
“What do you want, Dominick? I will be on camera in five minutes. I don’t have time for this.” The flutter in his voice was telling. He was terrified.
“What do I want?” I issued the words slowly. “I’m curious, Drummand. Are you planning on confiding all your sins to your constituents?”
“What sins?” The anger had increased in his tone.
Excellent. I took two sips of my drink, not bothering to answer until he took a step in my direction. “Why don’t you pick one? Gambling? Whoring? Would you like to inform the crowd and the American people that you owe almost two hundred thousand dollars to my family?”
“What? You bastard. I’m in the process of paying that back!” he insisted. “Besides, I spent the majority of that money at one of your casinos, a carbon copy of the one you’re trying to get approved with the board of supervisors.”
“Are you threatening me, Drummand? As you can imagine, that would not be in your best interest.”
He recoiled, his face and neck turning a ghastly shade of green. “I’m not threatening anyone, Dominick. As I said, I’m in the process of paying you back every dime.”
“Mmm... Yes, well, the interest is killing you. Besides, that’s not the point.”
“And what the fuck is the point?”
I turned sharply, closing the distance. “The point is that I own you, Mr. Hargrove. Nothing you do can occur without my approval.” I adjusted his bowtie, giving him an evil grin. “I certainly don’t have any intention of preventing you from running, if you obey my rules.”
“Rules? Christ, that’s ridiculous. People don’t give a shit about gambling. Hell, half the people in this town wager on something,” Drummand hissed. “I can explain that away in a heartbeat.” He dared laugh.
“Well, maybe you’re right. Then how are you going to explain this?” I pulled out a single photograph, one of the most damning that Kelan had sent. “What you do to young women is disgusting, Drummand. This girl in particular appears underage. Did you know that?”
I wasn’t entirely certain whether the man was going to have a heart attack. His face turned a bright crimson, his eyes bulging. Coughing, he moved toward the drink on the coffee table, gulping the entire contents. After the liquor had been consumed, he pointed his shaking index finger, the threat almost charming.
“How. Dare. You,” he managed.
I laughed, pulling yet another photograph out of my pocket. “I know all your dirty little secrets, Senator Hargrove. There isn’t anything you can hide and no matter what you do or if you try and run, I will find you.”
“You are a bastard.”
The second picture was much more devastating, exposing a secret no one knew. He’d failed miserably. His desire for young women would be his undoing.
His mouth twisted, his body swaying.
“Yes, that may be true. Here’s the thing, Drummand. I don’t give a shit what you think. I don’t give a shit about you at all, but I do believe yo
u care about your reputation, the various businesses you’ve turned into an empire. And I am certain that you don’t want to go to prison.”
“Damn you,” he struggled, wheezing. “What do you want from me. What?”
I slipped the photographs back into my pocket. “Simple and in agreeing to my demands, the gambling debt will be wiped off, the pictures secured in a vault meant for my eyes only. Just in case you try and betray me.”
“Just fucking tell me, for God’s sake. What? I don’t have anything. The businesses are crap, every dollar I invested gone. I’m wiped out. But then, you already know that.”
“True, but there is something much more precious to you. Isn’t there?” I moved closer, giving him a polished smile. His confusion fueled the ache in my loins. “Your daughter.”
“I... I don’t understand.” He darted his eyes back and forth across mine.
“Caroline. She’s mine. Completely and forever to do with anything I damn well please. You’re going to help explain to her that she’s been sold to me. Now, you can do that in any manner that you like, but in forty-eight hours, I’m coming to collect.”
He spit, coughed, and his entire body began to tremble. “You aren’t serious. I can’t sell my daughter. I won’t. You’re a lunatic!”
“Oh, I’m very serious, Drummand. You’ve fucked with my family and my businesses for long enough. It’s time I fuck with you. This is entirely your choice. If you want to run for president, thereby accepting my offer, then I’ll be the first to applaud your announcement. If you don’t show up at the press conference or simply give an innocuous announcement, then I’ll understand, and my men will be coming to collect every dime you owe me. And that money will be collected, punishment given for your infractions. And the pictures? They’ll arrive at the police station sent anonymously. I think that’s clear. Don’t you?”
Closing his eyes, he rubbed his jaw, the glass almost falling out of his hand. “You are worse than your fucking father, Dominick. You’re a demented bastard.”
“Thank you for the compliment.” I finished my drink and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll be looking forward to your speech.” Chuckling, I dropped the glass, moving toward the door. I stopped just long enough to offer one last incentive. “I suggest you heed my warning and my request, at least if you’d like to keep your daughter alive.” I knew the words would haunt him, keeping him in line. I had no intention of harming Caroline, but I would have no trouble destroying the asshole.
