Prey: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Piper Stone

  “Other duties?” He knew the answer and bristled at the concept. The old Italian ways would never be able to die until the elders no longer had control of the consortium.

  “One of our members had a beautiful daughter that would be suitable for you. She is of child-bearing age and from what I’ve been told, very fertile. Plus, this will endear you to the consortium once again.”

  While he knew his father was entirely serious, he had no answer that would satisfy either one of them. “I will take that under advisement, Father, but for now, I have my goal as presented. There will be no other failures.”

  “Son, just keep in mind that women can be our ultimate demise. What you might think is a connection that can never be broken is merely a myth. If you continue, you will lose everything.”

  Wrath sucked in his breath, fighting yet another round of anger. He’d been followed. Then again, the consortium had eyes everywhere. The truth is, he’d been careless, something that would never happen again. “Understood, Father, but something for you to relay to the consortium members. I will not be threatened for any reason at any time. You forget,” he allowed the words to linger as he turned to glare into his father’s eyes, “I know every ugly secret and I won’t hesitate to expose them if necessary.”

  He didn’t wait for his father to respond, merely walking out of the office with his shoulders held back in an air of defiance. The line in the sand had been drawn, something he’d hesitated from doing for the past two years. Twenty-four months of playing their lapdog in hopes of obtaining a position at their round table. Until one or more died, that was never going to happen. He chuckled as he headed down the ornate set of stairs. Maybe he needed to take matters into his own hands. He’d broken the rules, getting close to the enemy.

  Perhaps this was the ultimate coup.

  As he moved out into the sunshine, he envisioned Ashley’s stunning smile, his cock twitching. His longing for the dangerous woman had increased given the distance and what no one would ever know were the lengths he would go in order to find her.

  One day, she would be the one to bear his children. And one day, he would be the ruler, king of the world.

  * * *

  Miami

  One week later

  Federal Agent Sophia Waters sat at her desk attempting to concentrate. She tapped her pen on the open file, studying the same notes she’d been staring at for over an hour. The same ‘what if’ scenarios burned in the back of her mind.

  What if Pierre Renier was The Player?

  What if she’d figured that out earlier?

  What if she hadn’t fucked him like some wanton slut?

  And what if she hadn’t fallen hard for the man?

  At least she hadn’t botched the entire operation. Catching a glimpse of Stephen leaving the club had set the operation in motion. Their return to the states had been without incident. However, she’d fudged the follow-through report, leaving out certain... aspects of the case. The nagging regarding Pierre would remain until she was able to dig more seriously into every detail of the officer’s past.

  She’d scoured everything in her search to find The Player, and the men who obviously had the assassin’s back. Rumors abounded, whispers of a group that had set their sights on ruling the world.

  But they were just rumors, almost like the identity of The Player.

  “You look like you’ve lost your best friend,” David said as he flanked her desk.

  While she appreciated everything her partner had done, including securing the exit arrangements in Monte Carlo, she was in no mood for additional harassment.

  She’d had enough of that from her superiors after her return. “Just a few nagging details.”

  “Hmmm... Are you going to tell me what really happened?”

  “I’ve told you everything I know.” Along with everyone else. She chewed on her inner lip as she thought about Pierre. She thought she’d seen him racing after the SUV, dressed in all black and she could swear he had a gun in his hand. Even remaining in the shadows, there’d been no mistaking his handsome, rugged face. Jesus Christ. Why couldn’t she think straight?

  “Well, at least Stephen Wallace is safe, thanks to you,” he said as he tapped his fingers on her desk. “Time to move on. We have other cases.”

  “He’s coming here.”

  “Here?”

  “To the United States.”

  “You mean The Player?”

  She lifted her head, staring into her partner’s eyes. “Yes.”

  “We don’t even know the assassin’s name.”

  “But we know the kind of target he prefers.”

  David scoffed. “You really think he’s allowed to pick and choose, selecting the most powerful people in the world to assassinate? You really think there’s some formidable group ready to control the world?”

  She closed the file, sitting back in her seat. The Player’s ability to appear and disappear meant connections. The way he blended in with the rich and famous meant the group was well funded. “That’s exactly what I think. He’s ceremoniously taken out at least eight targets who were considered corporate moguls, industry leaders, or military giants that we know of. He’s never taken a hit on the little people, not a single one.”

  “So he craves being around the wealthy.”

  “That means he has an endless supply of cash and credit.”

  David sat down on the edge of her desk. “What are you thinking, partner? I can see your wheels turning.”

  “I do believe there’s a consortium of sorts that employs our player and they pay lucratively for exclusivity and for dedication. My guess is that they’ve been around for years, much like a cartel or mafia organization but infinitely more powerful.”

  “You make this sound like a romance novel.”

  Sophia rose to her feet, staring him in the eyes. “No, this is definitely not a romance novel.” Her thoughts drifted to the BDSM club, her body shivering involuntarily. While she wanted to deny the fact anything about what The Player was doing could be romanticized, she knew she’d be lying.

  “Have you mentioned your theory to the director?”

  She exhaled for the fifth time since poring over the file. “Not yet. I want to make certain there’s some evidence to support this.”

  “You do realize that you’re no longer on the case. Right? There is no sign that this player dude is in the United States or coming after Mr. Wallace. There have been no other outward attempts at assassinations either.”

  “I know but my gut is telling me we haven’t seen the last of The Player.” This was an international firm and certain reports of other assassinations had filtered into the newsreels. Either the FBI and CIA were hiding under the sand or they weren’t telling the worker bees in the various law enforcement agencies the truth. She’d bet on the latter.

  His eyes twinkling, David leaned closer, lowering his voice. “That makes it seem like you know what the assassin looks like, which could give you a very important advantage. From what I’ve heard, he’s never been identified in any manner, not just his appearance. You wouldn’t happen to know what he looks like, now would you?”

  “Bucking for another promotion, David?”

  Shrugging, he swept his gaze down the length of her. “I’ve never lied about my ambitions. Funny how you’ve never mentioned yours. Maybe you’re tired of this life of fighting crime. Considering retiring to the islands with a dangerous criminal, partner?”

  While her partner was teasing, a cold shiver trickled down her spine. A flash swept into her mind. Windy, sandy beaches. The ocean the color of aquamarine. Living the life of luxury even while being on the run. She rolled her eyes, shoving away the delicious image. That wasn’t her. She was a dedicated agent and if her instincts were correct, The Player would make a mistake, allowing his identification to be known. If that was the case, she’d be ready to take him down. And the reason for the mistake?

  His unwavering desire to dominate her.

  Chapter Six<
br />
  Three months later

  The world of the beautiful people, where all your inhibitions are left at the door.

  The lights along the Miami’s South Beach strip glowed in vibrant hues of fuchsia, tangerine, and violet, creating a festive ambiance. The boardwalk was just as crowded as the neon-infused bars lining the oceanfront, everyone ready for an exciting time. Sophia strolled down the sidewalk, enjoying the incredible scents of Puerto Rican food. Her mouth watered as she inhaled, her tummy rumbling. The past few weeks had been particularly arduous, the last case brutal, forcing the entire FBI team to work thirteen-hour days. At least the work had taken both her and her partner straight to the hottest clubs on South Beach.

  This was Friday, only hours after the case had been officially closed. She hummed along with the salsa music, her hips swaying back and forth automatically. Her good mood was soon to get even better after consuming at least two glasses of wine. Staying one more night in the funky hotel certainly wasn’t going to break her budget.

  Besides, she deserved a treat for being a very good girl.

  “Where there’s pleasure, there’s always pain.”

  As the phrase and his words filtered into the back of her mind, she bit her lower lip to keep from exclaiming. Pierre hadn’t entered her mind for almost two months. Why now? Why here? Perhaps because of the incredible nightlife and the tempting fragrance of the ocean. She studied the people around her, the majority with drinks in their hands.

  A warm flush swept up from her cleavage, the tropical dress leaving very little to the imagination. The night was humid, adding to the crackle in the atmosphere, everyone overheated, and the real party had yet to begin.

  She was suddenly overwhelmed, feeling decidedly claustrophobic. Air, she needed the cool breeze of the ocean. Without using the crosswalk, she managed to dart across the street, yanking off her shoes and heading straight for the water. The rolling waves lapped at the shoreline, the moon creating the most incredible shimmer across the water. She was very lucky to be here and should be satisfied with her life in every manner. She should be. Why did she suddenly feel so lost?

  Pierre.

  His rugged good looks.

  His demonstrative mannerisms.

  His commanding demeanor.

  And those damn incredible green eyes, allowing her a glimpse into his soul.

  Funny how she couldn’t think about Pierre without also thinking about The Player. She laughed and held out her arms, tipping her head back as she thought about the last few months.

  There’d been no sign of The Player, including internationally. There was speculation that given his failure to carry out the contract involving Stephen Wallace that his services had been rendered useless. Given he’d made two mistakes in a row, the concept seemed plausible to the powers that be.

  She wasn’t buying it at all.

  The Player might be laying low, but she suspected he was relaxing on some tropical island, most likely surrounded by women and booze. A chuckle left her mouth. She’d always envisioned him living in the lap of luxury, wallowing in riches the rest of the world could only dream about.

  Much like she believed Pierre was doing. As if that was his real name. Even after continually searching the Monaco databanks, confirming both the status and picture of Officer Pierre Renier, she still didn’t buy it. However, she’d made a promise to herself to let what had happened in Monte Carlo go, pretending as if she hadn’t made such an egregious mistake. Her resolve had worked.

  Until now.

  Sophia had remained antsy, as if the ball was going to drop at any moment, but she’d learned to keep her suspicions to herself. She had mentioned her idea about a group of people surrounding The Player, all with a playlist of those they determined required extermination. She’d been ceremoniously asked to take a couple of days off, her hard drive searched and certain files taken.

  Then she’d heard nothing, life going on as usual.

  She’d learned to keep her mouth shut after that, but a day hadn’t gone by that she’d hadn’t invested her own time searching, finding a vast number of clues that had led to absolutely nothing. There were little connections between the recent assassinations—some successful and others a complete failure. Given several parties had stepped up after the contract kills, accepting responsibility for their ten minutes of fame, she couldn’t put a solid handle on anything.

  A chill swept down her spine, a sixth sense telling her to turn around. There were people from every walk of life strolling along the beachfront. There was no way to see their faces, but as goosebumps popped along her arms, hair standing on the back of her neck, she had a feeling tonight was going to be very special.

  Maybe it was just wishful thinking, exhaustion settling in after pretending to be someone else for so long. Then again, maybe this had been a mistake after all. Grousing, she hugged her arms across her chest as the chill settled in. She was determined to follow through with her plan, enjoying a well deserved drink or two then languishing by the hotel pool. That would certainly provide some level of rejuvenation. Then she could permanently place Pierre into a little black box, padlocked with no key.

  Her spirits lifted, she waited as patiently as possible as she walked to the edge of the street, every car whizzing by seeming to be a sleek and very expensive convertible. Music blaring. Beautiful people. Stunning attire. South Beach royalty, something she’d never be able to achieve. She couldn’t complain, evidently her inquiries forgotten. The recent promotion both she and her partner had received now allowed them to work on the more important cases. Or as David would say, walking away from the grunt work.

  She eyed the crosswalk sign, debating ignoring the huge red hand. Perhaps she should obey the laws and not press her luck. Chuckling, a flash in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Another shiver slithered down every bone in her back with such determination, she was left shaking.

  He was here.

  Sophia was absolutely certain of it.

  She craned her neck as a group of people walked by the entrance to one of the hottest clubs on South Beach. When the crowd passed by, she was able to see a man standing alone just outside the set of double glass doors. Dressed in dark clothing, he had his hands in his pockets and even from this distance, she knew he was staring at her.

  Watching her.

  Hungering for her.

  Beckoning to her.

  There was no possible way of seeing his eyes, but she was drawn to then, mesmerized to the point she took a step off the curb. A single horn blast stopped her momentum, but certainly not her locked gaze.

  This was just a coincidence and nothing more. He tilted his head, a smile crossing his face.

  Her pussy quivered as she willed the light to change and the second it did, she moved toward him.

  “Come on, let’s go!” The boisterous laugh of the girl as she jumped right in front of Sophia pissed her the hell off. They bumped, the girl squealing as she almost tumbled to the ground. “Watch it!”

  Her friends laughed, helping the obvious drunk to her feet. Sophia snarled, pushing everyone aside and taking long strides.

  Only microseconds had passed but by that point, the mysterious man had disappeared. Panting, she picked up the pace, eyeing the closing glass door. He must have gone inside. She shot the bouncer a look as he carded her, slapping a twenty in his hand to allow her to pass quickly. The slender foyer opened up to a massive dance floor, lighting pulsing from every direction, fog rising from the floor itself.

  Sophia scanned the perimeter, almost pushing her way through the crowd. There was no one that even remotely fit the man’s description. “Jesus,” she hissed under her breath. This was so out of character for her. Her boss had been pushing her to take a vacation. Maybe that’s exactly what she needed to do.

  After another five minutes of searching, she chalked her ridiculous behavior up to the long hours, just like she’d thought before. At least she’d ventured into an incredible club, the music sending just
the right amount of vibrations into her very core. Drinking in the atmosphere, she enjoyed the flirtatious activity a little more than she should as she tried to head toward the bar. Tonight was all about tequila instead of wine with no worries. She was within walking distance of her hotel.

  When a hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her backward, she was certain the very rough grasp belonged to Pierre.

  “Wanna dance, baby? I think we’ll make beautiful music together!” The grunting noises coming from the sparsely dressed and very sexy male should have been arousing. Not tonight.

  “I don’t think so, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Come on. Just one dance.” His grin was infectious, his dance moves more than just provocative. They were overtly sexual, ready to claim her right here on the dance floor. He moved around her in a full circle, keeping beat with the music.

  “How can I resist?” Sophia was shocked the man was a fairly good dancer, adding a few salsa moves as he swung her around the dance floor. Within a few seconds, she was more relaxed, actually enjoying herself for the first time since...

  The disappointment she’d felt about herself moved straight into anger. She was tired of living out a fantasy. Leaning closer, she rubbed her hand down the sexy blond’s chest, giving him a seductive smile. “I need a drink.” The man wasn’t going to get lucky, but she could certainly enjoy herself while she was here.

  “What the lady wants, the lady shall have. Come on.” He took her hand, leading her off the dance floor and toward the smaller bar nestled in the corner. Winking, he released his hold. “A little white wine for the lady?”

  “Tequila. Straight.”

  Sophia didn’t wait to see if he was surprised at her selection, turning away and scanning the crowd one last time.

  The heat was oppressive, yet her nipples were fully erect, aching as if they’d been clamped. She could almost hear the creaking sounds as the mechanism was opened and closed. She languished over the thought, taking several deep breaths, hungering more deeply than she had at night, restless hours when her mind worked overtime.