BEAUTIFUL DEVIL

  PIPER STONE

  CONTENTS

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Afterword

  Books of the Sinners and Saints Series

  Books of the Benedetti Empire Series

  Books of the Merciless Kings Series

  Books of the Mafia Masters Series

  More Mafia and Billionaire Romances by Piper Stone

  Books of the Dark Overture Series

  Books of the Club Darkness Series

  Books of the Dangerous Business Series

  Books of the Montana Bad Boys Series

  Books of the Alpha Dynasty Series

  Books of the Alpha Beasts Series

  More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone

  About Piper Stone

  Copyright © 2022 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

  Beautiful Devil

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Image by Depositphotos/MisterBigPhotos

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  FOREWORD

  As many of my readers know, I am a huge animal lover. My three golden retrievers—Indiana Jones, Magnum PI, and Remington Steele—are my world. I also adore creatures in the wild including lions, tigers, giraffes, wolves, and others, often donating to wildlife organizations.

  With that in mind, you should be aware that the hero in Beautiful Devil owns a small wildlife rescue sanctuary within the expansive grounds of his estate. Please note that this practice should only be undertaken by licensed and trained professionals in real life. They are not domestic animals and require special handling. Don’t worry, you’ll never read about animal abuse in any of my stories.

  Piper

  “Beauty and the devil are the same thing.”

  —Robert Mapplethorpe

  CHAPTER 1

  “Monsters do exist in every shadow, dangerous beasts hungry to feast and ravage. A monster found me one moonlit night and he’s determined to keep me locked in a cage.

  My creature of darkness is the devil himself, a beautiful, dangerous man who plans on stealing my body as well as my soul.

  But he will never claim my heart.”

  —Emily Shephard

  Emily

  “Mr. Falco. I’m going to finish stocking the walk-in before I leave.”

  “How many times have I asked you to call me Eddie?” The kind, older man gave me a sly grin as I placed the last of the items needing refrigeration into the crate.

  He’d been good to me since my sudden return to New York, offering me a job after less than five minutes of an interview. My mother had told me he’d be kind. I’d never waited tables before in my life, but he’d liked my style, or so he’d said. He knew this was a temporary gig for me, hopefully no longer than three months, but that was dependent on my mother’s health. The uncertainty had forced me to quit a job I loved. “Eddie,” I repeated as I lugged the last items around the counter, grateful it was closing time. I was exhausted, the late evenings taking a toll.

  And it was only my third night.

  Eventually, I’d get another job in my field, but not in New York. I loathed the city and always had. At least the diner allowed me flexibility. And free food. I laughed as I struggled to throw open the latch, slapping my back against the frigid steel door to steady the crate before walking inside. The blast of cold air instantly forced goosebumps to skitter down both arms, the ugly short-sleeved shirt doing little to provide warmth or comfort.

  I eased the crate onto one of the produce boxes, placing the containers in their required space, eager to climb into a warm bed. Within seconds, my teeth were chattering, forcing me to pick up the pace. As I turned to leave, I tripped over the edge of one of the boxes, throwing out my arm just in time to slam my hand against the door latch, almost tumbling onto the floor of the kitchen.

  Pop! Pop!

  The sound was distinct.

  And terrifying.

  Gunshots inside the diner.

  The horrific reverberation immediately echoed in my ears, the vibrations jarring as my eyes caught the muzzle flash. As Eddie was pitched backward by the force, I realized the two bullets had gone clean through, blood and brain matter splattering across my face, neck, and chest.

  In slow motion, the sweet, older man crumpled to the floor in front of me, a portion of his skull shattered by the bullets.

  That’s the moment all time seemed to stand still. I was instantly paralyzed as I slowly lifted my head, startled from the sight of the assailant standing in front of me.

  While bathed in shadows, it was easy to tell he was a large, muscular man dressed in all black. He exuded raw power, his chest rising and falling.

  Now he had his weapon pointed directly at my head.

  I took several deep breaths, trying to process what I’d just witnessed, the spots dancing in front of my eyes making it impossible to see clearly. But I knew exactly what had occurred.

  My boss, the man I’d known for less than a week had been shot, two bullets entering his frontal lobe, rendering him dead within two seconds. The assailant had entered through the front door before Eddie had a chance to lock up for the night, the assassin turning off the main lights to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.

  I lowered my gaze, still trying to process what had happened when I realized the assailant had moved around the counter, headed in my direction. When he pointed his weapon in my face, I finally took gasping breaths.

  You need to get away. Move. Move!

  But my body refused to cooperate. Besides, it was obvious I wouldn’t make it a single foot without being shot.

  “What do you want?” I managed, my voice shaking.

  “A very loaded question that you wouldn’t like the answer to. However, we don’t have to make the situation any more difficult than it is.” His voice was deep, husky.

  And very much in control.

  The killer also had an accent, although so slight I couldn’t detect from what country. The darkness of his tone was sensual, dominating. I concentrated on the rapid thumping of my heart, counting the beats as he moved even closer. Now I was able to gather a strong whiff of his aftershave.

  Sandalwood and spices, a hint of a deep forest fresh with a dash of the ocean.

  My God. What was I doing?

  I managed to catch a good look at his weapon, shocked at what he was carrying. The MP-443 Grach was used by Russian military, not typically sold in the United States. The double action, short recoil semiautomatic was a powerful weapon, used for exactly this purpose. He wasn’t some criminal off the street. He was a trained professional.

  I was drifting onto a precipice, uncertain if what I’d just seen had really happened. The moment he grabbed my arm, spinning me around so my back was against his chest, I almost lost it. As he pressed the frigid barrel of his pistol to my temple, I was no longer certain I was standing. There was a presence about him that was larger than life, which should add to the moment of terror, but I remained in the protective vacuum, just trying to clear my vision. Then I realized why I was having difficulty seeing clearly.

  There was blood in my eyes. And on my face. And in my hair. And on my hands and… I finally let out a ragged moan, still unable to put a coherent sentence together. No. Hell, no. This bastard wasn’t going to strip me of my humanity or my intelligence. I tried to think of every scenario of how I could get away from him but in all of them there was very little chance I’d survive.

  “When there’s nowhere to run then you listen, remain calm, and stay vigilant. The criminal will make a mistake. The last thing you want to do is antagonize your captor. No sudden moves. No excess talking. Just breathe. Practice with me. Breathe.”

  My father’s words continued to play in my mind. At least they provided a small amount of comfort. I took several deep breaths, holding the dense air into my lungs as I counted to five. Then I asked a question calmly, devoid of any emotion.

  “I asked you a question. What do you want? Mr. Falco was a very nice man, but he didn’t have much money. However, you can take what you want. The cash box is in his office and I’m happy to show you where that is.”

  He snickered as he led me toward the back of the diner. “I assure you that Mr. Falco was not a very nice man, and I certainly don’t want his money or yours.”

  “Then what? What? Please just take what you want and leave.” Every bit of trai
ning I’d received from my father over the years was being challenged, ugly scenarios crowding out his calming voice. Maybe because there’d been a quietness about the assassin as soon as I made the demand, which scared me more than what I’d just witnessed. I sensed the assailant was trying to figure out what the hell to do with me. He thought I’d seen his face, but I’d been too frightened to capture much more than the fact he was huge in stature, his anger evident by the way he held his weapon. And the way his jaw remained clenched. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be inside the diner.

  “Unfortunately, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, which means you’re coming with me.”

  “No. No, I’m not.” I’d heard stories about how victims of violent crime reacted, some so stupidly they’d gotten themselves killed. I fell into that category when I jerked my arm, almost managing to get out of his clutches. I was failing my father and perhaps myself, but I gathered a sense that if I walked out of the diner with the gunman, no one would ever hear from me again.

  His second yank was brutal, forcing me tightly against his body. That’s when I realized just how large he was, six foot four at least. I wasn’t tiny by any means at five foot six, but he seemed like a giant, the strength in his hand easily able to crush my windpipe if so desired.

  He was a solid mass of chiseled muscle, which made him extremely dangerous. I allowed my gaze to fall on his forearm, memorizing the tattoos. Black ink covered almost every inch of what I could see, a single vine drifting onto the top of his hand. What the hell was this about if not a robbery? My mind drifted to various scenarios, finally processing what he’d said about Eddie.

  The assailant had known him. Drugs? That didn’t make any sense. Eddie was a family man. Then what? Blackmail? What could this asshole possibly gain? A debt owed? That was always possible, but for what reason?

  Within seconds the gunman walked us to the back door, jerking me to a stop. “Now, are you going to remain quiet?”

  “What do you want me to say?” There hadn’t been a single night since I’d arrived back home that I hadn’t heard screams in the night. None of them had been followed with sirens. That was another reason why I’d left New York. No one seemed to care about their neighbors any longer. Arizona was completely different, a place I’d almost thought I could call home.

  “A yes or no will do.”

  “Fine. Yes. Whatever. If you’re asking whether or not I’ll scream, why bother? No one will come to my aid. Besides, I know what you’re capable of.”

  He seemed to contemplate what I said, his hot breath skipping across the base of my neck.

  He chuckled in my ear then cracked the door, allowing the stench of the alley to waft across my nostrils. The combination with Eddie’s blood was putrid, my stomach finally lurching. I was aware of how masculine my captor was, muscular in all the right places. I closed my eyes, horrified from what I was thinking. A very sweet man had dropped dead in front of me, and I was languishing over his assailant’s aftershave.

  Obviously, the gunman didn’t trust me, slapping his massive hand across my mouth as he led me outside. He wasted no time crossing the alley, taking long enough strides I almost tripped twice. When he approached a sleek dark sports car of some kind, another shock filtered into my system. A murderer in a sports car? I don’t know why that seemed odd.

  When he opened the passenger door, my brain finally drifted out of the fog and I started to struggle, trying to remember every self-defense class I’d taken.

  He sensed every move before I made it, finally wrapping the arm holding the weapon around my neck. Suddenly, his lips were against my ear, mere centimeters away. Too close. I felt suffocated, my throat closing. There was also something far too intimate about the hold, his fingers resting on the top of my breasts. As he crushed me against him, another slight moan escaped when I felt the hard ridge of his cock pressing against me. The man was fully aroused. Oh, God. Oh… God.

  “You need to listen very carefully because I’m only going to say this once. If you try anything like that again, I will be forced to hurt you and I don’t think you want that to happen. Correct?”

  “No, sir.” Sir? Really? I was losing it, no longer the same woman who’d started the shift. I certainly wasn’t naïve to this type of crime. I’d been taught how to defend myself from as early as eight years old, my father insisting I learn methods of getting away from anyone who attempted to abduct me. Then he’d taught me how to shoot, not only handguns but assault rifles and crossbows as well, much to the chagrin of my mother. He’d added wrestling moves and boxing as training exercises, something I’d hated but grew to appreciate over the years.

  I’d dealt with criminals while interning at the hospital, junkies drifting into the emergency ward in search of a quick and easy fix. I’d been the one to ‘handle’ the situations, able to render the addict no longer dangerous until the cops arrived. But tonight, I’d lost all my training, surrendering to the fear.

  “Good girl. That’s much better.”

  I darted a quick glance at him as he shoved his weapon behind his back, still scanning both sides of the street at regular intervals.

  Good girl? Had he really just called me that? I fought back the tears that were threatening to form, realizing what this meant. He was taking me somewhere else to kill me. As soon as he forced me onto the passenger seat, another thought raced into my mind.

  Wait a minute. Why hadn’t he killed me inside the diner? What was the difference in one dead body or two? Oh, God, no. He was taking me for another reason.

  Finally, the fight or flight mechanism kicked in and as soon as he was near the front driver’s side, I fought to get the hell out of the car, fumbling to find the handle, almost able to throw myself onto the pavement.

  The bastard was too quick, grabbing me around the back of the neck and jerking me backwards by several feet, tipping me at an awkward angle. He’d left his door cracked in his hurry, and I was finally able to lock eyes with his. They were dark, obsidian black pools of pure evil.

  Another wave of absolute terror raced into my system, but as I gazed up at him, I was struck by his incredible beauty. His face was expertly chiseled, his full lips and a high forehead adding to his stunning good looks. The ugly glow highlighted a three-day shadow covering his angular jaw, the look sexy as hell, adding to his dangerous aura. He had curly dark hair, the long strands covering at least an inch of his collar. Without a doubt, he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. A flutter of excitement surged in my tummy, the hardness of my nipples as shocking as the entire experience.

  The air was ripped out of my lungs as he cocked his head, exhaling, his hard glare penetrating. I was lying across his lap, forced to realize he’d remained hard as a rock. There was a quiet danger about his demeanor, cold and calculating yet the sexual energy he exuded was powerful. My mind went places that it shouldn’t have, sensing an odd connection, a tether that was electric, abstract, and intense. I blinked several times, my lower lip quivering. He noticed my reaction, a smile curling on his upper lip.

  “I thought you were going to be a good girl.”

  “I…” I was never speechless but as before, I couldn’t form a single sentence to try to plead for my life.

  I also realized my skin was crawling, but my body was radiating the same heat his was; white hot, the touch of his fingers searing my skin.

  He closed the door, shutting down the light, now only the dirty streetlight highlighting his oppressive shadow.

  “Don’t try that again or I will be forced to punish you.”