Vicious Intentions: A Dark Mafia Romance by Piper Stone – Sample

Prologue

It is said the Damned eat their prey, feasting on bodies and souls, taking what they believe belongs to them.

No limits.

No hesitation.

They have no moral code, no deference to humanity—only primal need.

And they are never satisfied.

Déjà vu: a feeling that one has seen or heard something before.

Cain

Storms.

The power and malevolence had always intrigued me. As if God was asserting his wrath on the Earth, prepared to destroy humanity. In my mind, humans deserved to die. So many were weak and devoid of understanding that at any moment their life could be destroyed. I wanted to be the hand of God, crushing those who dared oppose me.

My father had applauded the darkness festering inside, slapping me on the back more than once as pride filled his face. My mother had been different, determined to expunge the demons before they eradicated my soul. I wasn’t certain why she cared. After all, I was the second born son of the Devil himself, the most powerful and feared mafia lord in the Midwest.

Darkness prevailed in our blood, the need for violence instilled at a young age. Yet, my mother remained faithful that her two sons wouldn’t follow in our father’s footsteps. Perhaps what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

A smile crossed my face as another bolt of lightning flashed bright neon across the sky, the tendrils of electric energy pulsing through me like rocket fuel. Soon I would be old enough to garner additional responsibilities. Not long after that, I’d rule over a unit of men capable of destruction. I’d become invincible, just like my older brother. Dayton would be handed the regime one day, but I’d be the man who carried out savage retaliation when needed. The thought was delicious.

My father was a brutal man and not only to those who defied him. He accepted nothing less than perfection from his sons, rarely acknowledging our existence unless we did something wrong. While I respected him as required, I’d also grown to hate him. The stench of his cigars. His patronizing attitude. His weakness for whores. I would be stronger, more resilient.

I would be a king.

As I stared at the glowing sky, I ignored the continuous pain. Allowing the bruises and marks to bother me was weak. I wasn’t weak. I felt a presence and stiffened, only to remind myself that I was in my brother’s house. I was safe. As safe as I could be with the demons plaguing me every night.

“Go to sleep,” Dayton said softly. “You need rest.”

I turned my head towards the bedroom door, scowling at the admonishment. My brother might be eight years older, but tonight was the first night he’d acted like I was required to play by his rules. Maybe that was because I was in his house, our parents refusing to leave me by myself while they traveled through Italy.

“Whatever,” I told him, turning over in bed. I rarely slept. There was no need. I’d learned a long time ago what happened when I fell asleep. That’s when the real monsters came out to play.

I could tell by the reflection of the storm in the window that he’d remained where he was,

“It’s different here, Cain. You don’t have to worry about Pops hurting you. As a matter of fact, he’s never going to hurt you or Mama again. I promise you. I figured it out. This is your home now.”

His words brought unwanted emotion.

And ugly memories.

“Don’t you dare shed a tear, you worthless piece of human flesh. You are a Cross. You will act like a man.”

“But, Papa.”

Wham! “Don’t you backtalk me.”

How many times had my father used the same words after beating me for some infraction? At least his brutality had taught me resilience. Home. My stomach churned at the thought. “What does that mean?”

He walked closer, easing the blanket up to my shoulder. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to learn the answers to.”

Fine. Whatever.

When I said nothing, Dayton laughed cynically. “I do love you, brother.”

“Love is for idiots who don’t know the fury of life.”

“Wow. What the hell did that man do to you? Families are about love. At least they’re supposed to be.”

“Go away, Dayton.” Fury rushed through me when I heard my voice crack. I was twelve years old for God’s sake. I was no longer a child.

He sighed but a few seconds later closed the door with a soft click.

I squeezed my eyes shut, balling my fists. Then I rolled over onto my pillow so he wouldn’t hear me. No one could ever hear me. I couldn’t cry. It was against the rules.

Damn it. No. No…

After a few seconds, I started to dry heave.

I pulled my knees close to my chest, trying to control my breathing.

Get control. Breathe. You are stronger than this.

Pain tore through me, but tonight it wasn’t about the physical torture I was used to. The rush of adrenaline, the agony that filled my mind was about the life I wanted and would never have.

Finally, a few seconds later, I felt stronger. Maybe one day I’d find a way to escape. At least I had Dayton in my life. He did care about me.

Thump!

A single sound grabbed my attention. I twisted on the bed, listening carefully. It had to be a branch against the side of Dayton’s house. After taking several deep breaths, I eased my head back to the pillow.

Then I heard it again.

Fear swept through me and I leapt off the bed, searching the nightstand for a weapon. Then I remembered Dayton had refused to allow me to have a gun in his house. I moved towards the door, opening it a crack and listening.

The muffled cry was filled with anguish. I rushed down the hallway towards Dayton’s room, flinging open the door. As a single bolt of lightning lit up the room, I stared in horror, unable to process what I was seeing.

A man stood over my brother, a hatchet in his hand. I saw the spark leave my brother’s bloodied face as I lunged forward.

“No!”

The bastard issued a single backhand, knocking me across the room and against the hall. Dazed and confused, I struggled to get to my feet. The assassin turned and within seconds, he disappeared out the window.

“Dayton. Dayton!” I tumbled forward, dropping to the floor by the bed. Even in the darkness, I could see pools of blood, my brother’s broken body lying in pieces.

While the asshole who’d taken my brother’s life had been shrouded in darkness, I’d caught a glimpse of a single scar on the top of one hand, something I would never forget.

I rose to my feet, glaring out the window as almost every emotion was swept away with my brother’s soul.

In its wake, a true monster had been born, a creature hellbent on revenge.

I would hunt down the person responsible. Then I would exact the kind of torture no man could tolerate.

And I would enjoy every brutal, bloody moment.

Chapter One

Several years later

Cain

The taste of blood remained in my mouth. It had for years, the coppery stench lingering in my nostrils. I reminded myself often of the reason why.

My brother’s blood had permanently stained my skin.

Why was I finding it more difficult to maintain a sharp focus, my need for revenge? Because of a woman, an innocent bird that I couldn’t wait to trap, then keep inside a gilded cage.

Perhaps for a lifetime.

Obsession.

My father had said that anything that became necessary in someone’s life was an obsession and should be condemned. I’d laughed at his statement more than once, but as I stood watching the beautiful woman crossing the campus grounds, I realized my behavior, my need to possess her, had become my greatest weakness.

Sage Winters had no idea she had not one, but three monsters stalking her.

I’d wanted nothing more than to destroy her, exacting revenge for a heinous act from years before. She was easy prey, vulnerable, and unsuspecting. The fact that her father had allowed her out of her protected cage meant he’d grown arrogant. I’d planned for months on using his overconfidence that no one knew about his true identity against him.

A vision of the worst night of my life flashed through my mind. Sage would pay dearly for my brother’s murder.

My father hadn’t needed to order me to go hunting. I’d done so myself, beginning at the age of thirteen. But it had taken me seven additional years to track my prey, two more to perfect my vicious plan. The life I’d been born into was violent, death just a part of the scenario.

I was very good at exacting punishment, my methods more creative than any other member of my family. I would enjoy taking what was most precious to my brother’s killer. My blood pumped wildly through my veins just thinking about the sweet release of retaliation.

The man known as the Iceman was an assassin, a hired gun for anyone who could afford his expertise. Little was known about the man who’d enshrouded himself in shadows, living another life as an upstanding citizen while using the darkness to hide his savage acts. However, I’d been provided with a gift years before, a single glimpse of a scar on his right hand, a burn from a mission that had almost taken his life.

In my years of planning revenge for the murder of my brother, I’d learned many things from my vicious father, including patience. I’d also been taught the best methods of seeking retaliation against our enemies were often the sweetest.

And the ones that would drive a stake through a man’s heart.

His daughter would become the vessel for my vindication.

However, my original plans had changed since watching her, stalking her over the past months. Now I wanted everything, craving not only her blood but her body as well.

Little did Sage Winters know that soon she would belong to three powerful, ruthless, and unforgiving men.

After her father watched her final surrender, only then would I allow him the release of sweet death.

“She is spectacular,” Hunter Augustine said from beside me. “I can’t wait for my first taste.” He was one of my two best friends, a man almost as evil and callous as I’d become. He could hide behind his wide grin and twinkling eyes, fooling everyone that he was a good guy, yet I knew his darkest secrets, his penchant for sadism. That was why we got along so well.

“One of many, I assure you.” Grinning, I threw him a look before heading toward the dorm she shared with a girl already in the clutches of the Elite. Our group was generations old, children of some of the most powerful men and women in the country, many of whom worked on the wrong side of the law. Our power was unequaled, our true wealth undocumented. And it was widely known that graduates of the exclusive college would one day rule the world.

As if we weren’t already doing so.

“Does her father have any idea she’s being hunted?” Cristiano asked as flanked my side, his once heavy Latin accent all but erased from his deep immersion in the American lifestyle. As the eldest son of the Moreno Cartel out of South America, his future was laid out almost exactly as mine was. Soon, we would both lead powerful crime syndicates, taking over from our fathers. He was almost as brutal as I’d become, which was why I considered him one of the posse.

The three of us were tight. We’d performed various required acts of violence over our years of servitude to the system, including eliminating enemies determined to bring down our families.

Loyalty was the first rule. Secrecy the second. Obedience the third.

Anyone who broke even a single rule was banished.

Or worse.

All three of us had gone through an initiation period that only the strongest, most resilient people could survive. Now we ruled the estate where the members lived, our dominance more powerful than that of our ancestors. Even the administration had no control over us. However, the capture and control of sweet Sage would be our finest hour.

“If he doesn’t, he’s a fool. I’ve heard The Iceman is in the process of retiring.” My answer was succinct. Maybe the fucker believed he could retire to Florida, spend his days basking in the sun.

“Where do you get your information?” Hunter inquired, his eagerness to enjoy the fruits of our labor well noted.

“You know I have my sources.” I’d spent years tracking The Iceman’s activities, learning everything I could about his actions, finally discovering his real identity that he’d gone to great lengths to hide. Xavier Winters had certainly aged significantly over the past few years, the birth of his only child a surprise to both him and his ageing wife. Most who knew him saw nothing but the pleasurable, kind man who owned a two-decade old Italian restaurant in Chicago as well as a food distribution firm servicing fifteen states. While many were aware of his extreme wealth, the fact that he didn’t flaunt it by driving expensive vehicles or supplying his wife with jewels and furs had kept him mostly off the radar.

That was how he’d managed to stay alive, able to protect his wife and only child. If it hadn’t been for the second slipup in his illustrious, decades-old career, I’d never have connected all the dots.

Killing him wasn’t enough.

I wanted more. Much more.

“Yes, you do. It’s time we moved forward with our plan.” Cristiano was the quiet one, always observing. He was dangerous, more so than people gave him credit for.

“Patience, my dear friend. We’re almost there.”

“The party has been announced, our useful minions directed to attend, a few select guests invited to keep it interesting and full of activity.” Hunter moved ahead of me, opening the massive door to the dorm.

The party was little more than a lure, allowing our first official meeting with Sage. The people he called our minions were some of the school’s most beautiful female students, all vying to be chosen after graduation. Many hoped they would become a bride. Little did they know at best they’d become our whores.

The realization that there was only one woman for me had occurred the very first time I’d laid eyes on her. Sage likely didn’t remember that she’d bumped into me on her first day at the school, giggling from nervousness and excitement. I’d spent two hours jerking off to the most intense fantasies about what I would do to her. Similar images flashed in front of my mind just walking into her dorm.

The beauty crawling towards me on her hands and knees. Around her neck she’d have a wide diamond-encrusted collar, her red lips open in anticipation of sucking my cock.

I’d also created vivid images in my mind of the beautiful strap marks that would cover her porcelain skin after I’d disciplined her for even the barest hint of an infraction.

But there was nothing like the torrid visions of fucking her from behind as she swung from a steel bar, her wrists wrapped in chains.

I was nothing less than a twisted fuck.

“Excellent,” I managed, although in truth I could care less about the party. If it were up to me, we’d wait for her to return from class and take her. Both Hunter and Cristiano were more interested in tempting then tasting her. We’d stalked Sage for months, placing cameras inside her dorm room. I’d also watched her sleep, study, and shower, basking in the vision of her naked body, waiting for the day when I’d taste every inch of her.

The games were set to begin.

We entered the building, heading towards the stairs to the third floor. While there were students coming and going, no one dared question us or our intentions. They knew what would happen if they did.

The lock was easy to maneuver, and as soon as we stepped inside the suite, I took a deep breath. Her perfume lingered, the scent distinctly different than the girl she shared the three rooms with. I’d memorized every detail of Sage’s room, touching everything. I pushed open her partially open bedroom door, entering her hallowed space. Everything about the room she’d occupied for almost two years was special. The bold color of violet on the walls, the thick comforter, and two sets of pillows. Even the art she’d selected, which was more erotic in nature than I would have imagined, told a story about her personality.

She was a born submissive.

I adored the fact that she was hiding her true nature under baggy clothes and thick glasses. However, I knew she was a little lioness in disguise. I also knew the secret she kept from everyone, including her parents. Such a naughty girl. Taming her would be delicious.

Hunter moved toward her bed, running his fingers across her pillow. Then he pulled it into his hands and against his face, inhaling deeply. The man was likely the sickest fuck of all of us, enjoying kinks that I had no interest in.

I moved towards her dresser while Cristiano remained in the outer room. As soon as I opened the top drawer, a smile crossed my face. For as prim and proper as Sage appeared on the outside, her true personality could be found underneath the holey jeans, sweatshirts, and ratty tennis shoes. The lingerie she wore was provocative. Unable to resist, I tugged a crimson thong into my fingers, rubbing the tips across the thin lace.

I’d taken photographs of her standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom wearing only a bra and panties. They always matched, and her choices had always made my mouth water. Soon, I’d rip my teeth through the material, tasting her for the first time.

And a couple of nights before, I’d stood over her while she’d been sleeping. I’d almost taken her then. I’d brought with me a gag and zip-ties, prepared to take her as my captive. Then she’d stirred, waking out of a deep sleep. I’d remained in the shadows as she’d sat up in bed, certain she’d seen me. But if she had, she would have reported me to the dorm resident.

Or maybe she hungered for my touch more than I knew.

Only after that had Hunter been able to convince me that having a party was the best move.

I shifted my hand across my aching cock, forced to adjust it given the hard crush of the zipper. The woman had no idea how close she’d come to becoming my prisoner.

I held her panties to my nose again, drinking in her essence. She was everything I wanted.

After pocketing the delicious piece, I left my calling card on her nightstand. A single blood-red rose petal. It was the second one I’d left in my many visits. I wanted her to discover she’d become my prey. But if she’d realized it up to this point, she hadn’t expressed any alarm.

Or perhaps she enjoyed being the subject of dark, demented fantasies.

My heart continued to pound with adrenaline as it did every time I was anywhere near her. The anticipation was well worth the wait. After taking a deep breath, I let it out through my nose, another wave of anger rushing through my system. I’d waited ten long years. Everything had to be perfect. At this point, I’d allow my fury to fuel my desires and nothing more.

“Remove the equipment?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah. I don’t want any complications.”

“Understood.”

As both Hunter and Cristiano snagged the cameras and audio recording equipment, I sat down on her bed. The main reason I enjoyed my visits so much wasn’t about sniffing her clothes but about reading her journal.

Not only was she a talented author, but the fact she that penned her personal fantasies on paper ignited the beast inside, the creature becoming insatiable.

I pulled it from the drawer, tugging on the satin bookmark indicating where she’d left off. This time, her red pen was inside as if the book had been put away in a hurry. Almost as soon as I started reading, my cock pressed against my zipper painfully.

I felt the rush of wind as soon as he opened my window. I’d longed to see him again, hoping tonight would be the night. I didn’t know his name, nor did I care to learn. This was our game, our playtime. It was filthy and dangerous, but that only added to the intense excitement. I needed to feel something, anything to mask the agony tearing through me every day.

I remained under the covers, turned on my side, the anticipation of his rough touch everything I longed for. As I’d done before, I pretended I was asleep, keeping my breathing even as I felt the weight on the bed change. My face was turned away, but I heard him searching through the duffle bag he always brought to our late-night adventures. Seconds later, he brushed his hand down my arm before dragging them behind me, quickly snapping the hard steel around both my wrists.

Moaning in appreciation, I took several sharp breaths, the excitement surging through me like white lightning.

“Good girl,” he said in a gruff tone, the two words sending a thrill down my spine. He lowered his head, moving hair away from my face and neck before blowing his heated breath against my cheek. Every cell in my body tingled, and I struggled in my bindings just like he’d commanded me to do.

He continued his exploration, sliding the palm of his hand down my back, using his fingers to crawl the sheer nightie over my bottom.

“Did you shave for me, my good girl?”

“Yes, sir.” His deep voice sent a rumble through me, and my stomach knotted from a hint of anxiety. I never knew what he would do. His needs became darker with every unexpected visit. Yet I craved his acts of savagery, the longing extending for hours after he’d left. The yearning to feel the marks he left crisscrossing my body was only increasing. I was wet with desire, my pussy throbbing, ready to beg him to whip me.

Then I’d beg him to fuck me.

He seemed to sense my hunger and grabbed the back of the nightgown. With a quick snap of his hand, he ripped it from my body. Then he jerked me up by my hair and onto my knees, wrapping one arm around my breasts as he nuzzled his head against my neck.

“Have you thought about me?” he growled as he twisted my nipple.

The pain was intense, but I knew better than to scream. Whispering my answers was a requirement, or the punishment would be much worse.

“Yes, sir.”

He tweaked my other hardened bud before sliding the palm of his hand down my stomach, digging his fingers into my slicked folds. He toyed with my clit, flicking his thumb back and forth across the piercing he’d commanded me to get. Then he’d reminded me that he’d be the only man to suck it between his teeth.

I was so wet I could tell I’d soaked his fingers, my soft moans indicating the utter pleasure rolling through me. He continued rubbing, pushing me to a moment of climax.

“Ride my hand, little pet.”

I bucked hard against him, fighting to feel more friction. He twisted his hand, thrusting his fingers into my tight channel. God, I wanted more. “Harder. Please.”

He issued several hard cracks of his hand against my bottom, the pain instantly exhilarating. I was pushed into a beautiful moment of bliss, my tiny mews keeping him fully aroused. He smacked my buttock again, the sharp jar exactly what I needed. After several more, I was wetter than before, my mind a raging blur of need and want.

When he smacked my pussy with several fingers, then did it again, and again, I lurched forward. The agony was deliciously sweet, crackling electricity soaring through me.

“My good girl likes it brutal. Yes…” As he nipped my earlobe, he gave me what I needed, driving the heel of his hand into my mound. I gyrated my hips, dragging my tongue across my lips as I continued struggling, riding his hand like a bucking bronco.

“Oh, God. Oh…” As an orgasm tore through me, I bit down on my lower lip to keep from violating his rules.

“Yes, I am a god.” His chuckle was dark, laced with hints of evil. I knew exactly what he was capable of, the brutality he thrived on.

And I wanted to feel it. All of it. I wanted to be his slave, to serve his every need.

He barely allowed me to finish before bending me over, pressing my face against the covers. Then he used his knee to drive my legs apart.

“Do you know how much I hunger to fuck your tight pussy, little pet?”

“Uh-huh.” There was no doubt that I was the only woman who could provide what he craved.

Complete surrender.

I was frantic with need, wiggling my bound hands, taking gasping breaths as he freed his glorious cock. It was long and thick, and there was nothing like being fucked by him.

“My needy little pet. Aren’t you? You’re all mine, you little slut. Never forget that.” He thrust the entire length of his cock inside, and I struggled to fill my lungs with air, doing everything I could to remain obedient. He wasn’t gentle, plunging hard and fast.

“Yes… Sir… Uh. Uh. Uh. Uh.”

My delicious stranger tangled his fingers in my hair, digging into my scalp as he pushed my face into the comforter. He fucked me long and brutally, stripping me of the last of my inhibitions. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Nothing.

When he pulled out, I gasped again, my whimpers that of a wanton girl in need. He raked his fingers down my spine before pressing the tip of his cock against my dark hole.

Then he thrust it all the way inside.

Fuck. My cock ached like a son of a bitch. Her stories were getting darker, more sadistic. It was apparent our perfect little pet liked it as rough as possible.

As I eased the journal into the drawer and stood, I was forced to adjust my shaft to relieve some pressure. Sage would be rewarded with exactly what she wanted. She would serve the three of us. She’d be well used.

Punished.

Tasted.

Fucked.

Branded.

The kinky girl would be forced to accept that her father had fucked with the wrong family.

Then she’d realize she belonged to the worst of the Damned.

The kind of monster nightmares were made of.

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