Prey: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Piper Stone

  “You have rocked my world, lady. You have no idea.” Pierre’s words were laced with a different vibe.

  She anticipated that he would take her right here, fucking her then dropping her off at the hotel. When he released her, holding her in a gentle caress until she stopped shaking, she was thrown by his change in behavior. Exhausted, she clung to him, fingering his shirt. Her instinct was to remain wary, find a way to get out of his sight.

  But her desires had indeed awakened her, allowing her to experience things she would likely never have the opportunity to again.

  And she wanted more.

  The need became overwhelming, obviously for both of them. She ripped at his clothes, groaning as she struggled to remove them.

  Pierre responded, laughing in a guttural manner as he jerked off his jacket. “Fuck, I want you.”

  “I want you. Hurry. I can’t wait.” She was shaking as she fumbled to unfasten his pants, her pussy clenching as the need continued to rise. The moment she was able to wrap her hand around his cock, she threw her head back and moaned. “So hard. God.” She pumped up and down, twisting and turning her hand in a forceful manner.

  “Careful, sweetheart, you’ll make me come too fast and I’m gonna fuck you so damn hard.” He wrangled to get out of his pants, immediately lifting her off the floor. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

  “Just fuck me. Goddamn, just fuck me.”

  He almost threw her up against the wall, the hard slamming noise reverberating into the room. He dragged her legs around his hips, immediately impaling her pussy. “Fuck. Yes.”

  “Oh, God. Oh... Yes.” He spread her wide open, her muscles immediately clamping around the thick invasion. Panting, she clawed at him with one hand, her other slapping against the cold wall. The way he fucked her was carnal, barbaric in nature.

  He rose onto the balls of his feet, jutting his hips forward as he fucked her, plunging in savage actions. His growls permeated the air around them as the electricity soared, shooting through both.

  “Oh. Oh. Oh.” She lolled her head as he took her, the tip slicing against her G-spot. Everything about the hard fucking was spectacular, leaving her spent yet wanting to continue forever. The sound of brutal slapping of her body against the wall matched her cries.

  Savage.

  Crazed.

  Hungry.

  They were both wild in their actions, their bodies undulating together. He slapped both hands on the wall, crowding closer, using only the strength of his muscular thighs to keep her aloft.

  “Oh, Pierre.” She heard the soft mewing, the wanton need dripping from her voice. Everything about this was so wrong, sinful in several ways, but who the fuck cared? She laughed as she clung to him, finally allowing him all the control he wanted. This was absolute pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

  When she could tell he was close to coming, she squeezed with what was left of her strength. And when he threw his head back and roared, she couldn’t help but smile. This was her control over him.

  The man she adored.

  The man she could submit to.

  The man she could fall in...

  She draped her arms over his shoulders, fighting the thought with everything she had. That wasn’t going to happen.

  Pierre held her in his arms, refusing to let her go for almost five minutes. He savored watching her in the throes of passion, a single climax turning into a beautiful wave, the scent of her intoxicating. Everything about her was spectacular. When he finally eased back, he caressed her face, his fingers barely touching her. “Get dressed. I have somewhere special to show you. That is, if you’ll continue to trust me.” He took a step away.

  She was as thrown as before, uncertain of everything about this man, including who the fuck he was. But if she had to admit the truth, she did trust him.

  With her life.

  * * *

  The view was almost perfect, the lights of the city shimmering under the nearly full moon. Wrath stared out the windshield, enjoying the view. This was the last few moments they would spend together. He’d made his decision about her fate.

  She would live to see another day.

  “This is beautiful,” Ashley half whispered.

  “I’ve come here many times when I needed to sort out an issue or problem. No one knows about this location and I’ve never brought anyone here.” The area was precarious to those who didn’t anticipate the danger. The small alcove was likely mistakenly made, the lack of guardrails potentially causing deaths. To his knowledge no one had flown off the edge, or if they had, the stories had been covered up. He snickered at the thought.

  She leaned forward, her fingers gripping the dash. “I can see why. Beautiful but dangerous.”

  “Like all things in our lives that truly matter. Don’t worry. If you slipped, I would catch you, cherie.”

  Tipping her head in his direction, she seemed to be studying his expression, as if searching for truthfulness.

  He took her hand into his, squeezing her fingers. “We will never see each other again.”

  “I know.”

  “But I will never forget.” Wrath started the engine, putting the gear into reverse and hitting the gas. Danger. He lived for the concept, craved the rush of adrenaline more than anything.

  Almost.

  He kept both hands on the wheel as he drove, swerving around the curves with ease. He wasn’t surprised she had no reaction other than a smile. She was much of a danger junkie as he was. Hence the extreme attraction. He was enveloped in his own blackened world, a reminder that everything was precarious in nature. This had been his respite, the only one he’d allow.

  As the lights of the city closed in, his heart began to beat faster.

  And faster.

  Suffocating his breathing.

  Wrath had never been this stimulated or thrown so close to the pits of hell. As he rolled into the driveway of the hotel and casino, an odd sadness crept into his system. Nothing usually bothered him any longer in his jaded life, no loss or gain, no fracture of friendships.

  But this was... excruciating.

  They sat in the car as the engine idled, both staring out the windshield. Ashley finally turned her head in his direction then leaned closer, cupping his face as she kissed his cheek. “This has been... delightful.”

  With that, she exited the Ferrari, taking long strides toward the entrance.

  He studied her as she walked, her exquisite form and head held high with confidence. If karma had any sense of humor, they would meet again, perhaps under an entirely different set of circumstances. However, he would be prepared, ready to snap the last buckle on the tether that would keep her in his grasp forever.

  At least he’d caught sight of the mark, Mr. Wallace’s departure from the club acknowledgement that he’d arrived in town. Now he had a job to do.

  As he pulled his phone from his coat pocket, eyeing the single text given by the same young man working behind the reservation desk, he smiled. At least his luck was changing. If the kid was telling the truth, his mark was spending time at his designated Blackjack table. While patience certainly wasn’t a virtue, he would wait this out, enjoying the game for a little while longer.

  Then he would disappear.

  Fifteen minutes later he had a prime spot hidden in the shadows, his exit plans already altered. If his calculations were correct, Stephen Wallace would spend thirty-seven additional minutes attempting to win at least one hand. Win or lose, he’d finish his two hundred dollar glass of scotch and move directly toward his suite where he’d make a single phone call to a trusted associate. The consort would arrive approximately fifteen minutes later, spending no more than one hour in the room before leaving with a cool two thousand dollars in her swanky purse. By then, the intelligent but very naïve businessman would be under the effects of the same date drug that had swept the streets of his home country.

  What poor Stephen didn’t know was just how far reaching the tentacles of the Constantino family truly were
, owning a solid fifty-two percent of the business, or a portion thereof, in Monte Carlo.

  Including the high dollar dating service Stephen always used.

  Anonymity.

  Discretion.

  Or so Stephen believed.

  Tonight, the man’s horrible luck would continue, but it was something he’d never have to worry about again.

  Wrath studied the casino floor, his vantage point allowing him to see a solid eighty percent of the room. There was no sign of Ashley, although every time he inhaled, he was certain her exotic perfume was the only one filling his nostrils. He had difficulty getting her out of his mind. At this point, the detriment was intolerable. Sighing, he turned his attention toward Stephen then glanced at his watch. Everything was going according to plans.

  Within thirty seconds of Wrath’s determined schedule, Stephen Wallace finished his drink, tipped the dealer well, and headed toward the set of elevators, stepping inside an empty steel box. He followed the American, immediately moving toward the set of stairs. Wrath took them two at a time, counting off the seconds in his mind. He’d calculated the elevator’s speed with no additional stops. He moved into the hallway, simply passing by the elevator and barely darting a look before moving into the alcove housing the ice machine. Another excellent vantage point.

  The ping of the elevator made him smile but as the doors opened and no one stepped off, his skin prickled.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Wrath waited until the doors were ready to close before bounding toward them, hitting the button. The doors slid open again, revealing a very empty elevator. For the first time in several months, beads of sweat formed over his brow as his heart rate increased.

  He took a deep breath and walked inside, looking for anything that might provide a clue. Turning in a circle, the shimmering set of LED lights allowed a glint. Crouching down, he immediately recognized the necklace. He was thrown, rage creeping in for a few seconds as he accepted the meaning of the find. “You little wench.” He pocketed the locket, stood and slammed his hand against the cold steel just as the doors opened into the lobby.

  The American female was damn good at being an operative.

  He wasted no time, racing toward the set of entrance doors. As he rushed out into the cool air, in the distance he noticed a dark SUV speeding away, the polished rims illuminated by the full moon. He shoved his hands in his pockets, shaking his head.

  The fabulously secretive and cunning American agent had no idea what kind of challenge she’d placed on the table. Wrath never lost, either in business or in pleasure and he certainly wasn’t about to start now.

  “I’m coming for you, sweet Ashley. When I do, your life will truly begin.”

  * * *

  “You finally wanted to see me, Father?” Wrath strolled into his father’s expansive office, curtailing the heightened level of emotions that continued to ride him. He’d been unable to squelch them since leaving Monte Carlo. His arrival back on the estate had certainly been met with excitement from the staff as well as his baby sister, but in the two days since his return, his father had opted to keep to himself.

  No doubt out of utter disappointment for his son’s lack of care in performing his required job.

  The estate had several hundred acres, allowing all three of Benedetto’s sons to live within the gates but on their own terms. He had one older and one younger brother, but they’d received the same barrage of training beginning at the age of five, their duties equally as important within the community. Both Angelo and Gabriel were competent assassins in their own right, their skills perfected by several years of required missions. No other family within the consortium had racked up the number of clean assassinations as the Constantino family had.

  Until now.

  The concept of shame enshrouding the family was something that his father would be unable to cope with. Benedetto was a proud man. A wealthy man.

  And the kind of monster that nightmares were made of.

  The very reason Wrath had left him alone upon his return. He’d spent his time honing his skills at weaponry in several manners, also trying not to allow sinful thoughts regarding Ashley to enter into his mind.

  He stood several feet away from Benedetto’s desk, trying to hold his tongue. While he’d been born into what the Italians considered true royalty, he’d never fully understood the ramifications of fucking up.

  The word on the street was that the Constantino family had lost their edge as well as the consortium’s favor. He’d never appreciated the value of the arrangement, perhaps because his father had always handled the business side of things. But as heir apparent, it was vital that Wrath take the lead. One day, his son would take the helm, leading the Constantino family into another era, but the goal would always be the same.

  Altering the entire world’s corporate and military structure to suit the consortium, thereby growing their wealth.

  And no one country was the wiser, the consortium only spoken of in their limited circle. As far as members of various law enforcement were concerned, there were several hired guns taking out world leaders in a random fashion.

  Granted, the concept didn’t sit well with his brothers, but as with everything else within their family, Benedetto ruled with an iron fist. No one challenged him.

  “Do you know what the Italian people say about the Constantino family?” Benedetto asked. He remained in front of his floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the pool.

  Wrath followed his father’s gaze, watching the way his much younger sister frolicked in the water, her nanny by her side. His father’s second wife, barely older than Wrath himself, hadn’t wanted a child in the first place, almost always leaving her with a nanny. “Why don’t you tell me, Father?”

  “That we are direct descendants from the gods themselves.” Benedetto shot him a sideways look, a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

  He’d heard the campfire style stories, mostly when he was a child, other parents refusing to allow him and his brothers to join in. There was no reason for their people to be afraid of them other than the legend that had been around before his great-grandfather. However, they had certainly used the centuries-old fear to their advantage as necessary. “The old ways, Father.”

  “Yes, ones you do not enjoy partaking in.” Benedetto finally turned, never blinking as he stared at his son. He took solid and very slow steps forward, keeping his hands behind his back. “Are you aware that you’ve disgraced this family?”

  Exhaling, Wrath nodded as his father came even closer. “That was not my intent.”

  Benedetto seemed to study him, glancing up and down.

  The harsh backhand his father issued caught him by surprise, the heavy ring his old man always wore catching him just under the eye. Stumbling, he dropped to his knees, cupping his face and taking several deep breaths. In his entire life, his father had only struck him twice, although the man’s form of punishment was much worse in several ways.

  “I will not tolerate incompetence from any of my children. Do you understand that, Ricardo? The consortium cannot tolerate it. Twice you failed us. Twice. And yes, I know you fixed your first mistake, but the second mark is still underground, protected by the goddamn Americans.” Benedetto shook from his rage, finally running one hand through his thinning hair. He adjusted the ring, hissing as he yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping away the string of blood marring the solid gold. “If the consortium has to deal with this, you will be banished and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing.”

  Wrath struggled to rise to his feet, daring to look his father in the eyes. No other person in his life would he allow to touch him in that manner, but the respect he felt for his father was unequaled, even if he’d lost his love for the man. “I completely understand and I will hunt Mr. Wallace and when I find him, there will be no place the man can hide, no matter which country he’s in.” The oddity of seeing such utter disappointment in his father’s eyes was probably more traumatic than he wa
nted himself to believe. If forced to banish one of their own from the consortium, which had occurred only once, Wrath would have a target on his back.

  There would be no solace.

  There would be no money.

  There would be nowhere that Wrath could hide.

  Another would be sent to exterminate him, likely one of his brothers.

  His father tipped his head, studying Wrath once again as if determining whether his own child was capable of lying. “Very well. Gabriel will handle things until you accomplish your goals.”

  “Gabriel?” Another form of punishment, allowing his brother to be the first on the list, the man the consortium trusted the most. Whatever assignments he received would be out of the public eye and certainly less dangerous. The kills were also considerably less fulfilling. The reduction in rank was indeed an embarrassment for the entire family.

  “He’s the most qualified, although sometimes I wonder if he has far too much of his mother in him, just like Angelo.” Finally, Benedetto’s face softened and he placed a hand on Wrath’s arm. “You are just like me, my son, a man with no conscience and no love for anything but your family and your country. That is an incredible gift to have. Your brothers are much softer, preferring wine and women to hard work. This is merely a blip for you, nothing that I am too concerned about. As long as there is nothing that you need to tell me then within a few months you will be back on track.”

  The reasons for marrying were simply to provide heirs, blood for the continuation of the consortium. This was the very reason he’d loathed his father since he was a small child, the utter disregard he had for his mother disgusting. But his father was right.

  Wrath had grown into the exact same man as his father, capable of horrific violence without the concept of understanding love. He allowed his father to see the same cold smile he’d offered since he could remember, even though inside he was burning with hatred. Sadly, that was only one of the emotions driving him to near madness.

  “I will rest, Father, for a few days. That is all I need.”

  “You will soon be asked to perform your other duties. Would you like for me to make arrangements?”