CONTROLLED

  PIPER STONE

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Afterword

  Books of the Cruel Kings Series

  Books of the Lords of Corruption Series

  Books of the Savage Empire Series

  Books of the Ruthless Empire Series

  Books of the Tainted Regime Series

  Books of the Carnal Sins Series

  Books of the Kings of Corruption Series

  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

  Books of the Edge of Darkness Series

  Books of the Dark Overture Series

  Books of the Club Darkness Series

  More Mafia and Billionaire Romances by Piper Stone

  Books of the Missoula Bad Boys Series

  Books of the Montana Bad Boys Series

  Books of the Eagle Force Series

  Books of the Dangerous Business Series

  Books of the Dark Wolves Series

  Books of the Alpha Dynasty Series

  Books of the Alpha Beasts Series

  More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone

  About Piper Stone

  Copyright © 2024 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

  Controlled

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

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

  PROLOGUE

  “She was so flawed, so perfectly flawed. So perfectly flawed for me.”

  —Atticus

  Creed

  In the world of monsters and men, there were no heroes, only villains. And they were very hungry…

  The darkness couldn’t hide the smell of fear or the scent of copper, blood often drenching the trees and foliage. I was surprised how giddy I felt, the need for the hunt more overpowering than usual. I was hungry, my beast already out of control and the prey had yet to be dropped off.

  I lifted my head as the vehicle approached, driving over the underbrush, the sound of the tires crunching on the fallen limbs making me lick my dry lips. I shifted from foot to foot, antsier than I’d been in a long time.

  “You seem eager tonight,” my older brother Styx said from beside me.

  I glanced in his direction as the headlights from what our father called the hunting machine showered the starting point with shimmering light. “The prey did kill five of our soldiers, taking a father from his kids.”

  “Yeah, well, there are always bad men in the world of organized crime. What makes this asshole any different?” Styx was disgruntled, in a nasty mood from the last beating he’d received. However, nothing he could say would take away the joy.

  “I’m sick of this shit,” Easton said, tossing his bag of weapons down and trying to walk away.

  I yanked him back by the collar of his shirt, fisting my hand around his throat. “You know how our father feels about one of us not being here for the beginning.”

  “Get off me,” he barked, pitching his fists against my chest. I was only a couple of years older, but I’d grown four inches in the last few months, increasing my bulk by almost twenty-five pounds.

  “Father will be here any minute. Shut the fuck up or we’ll be added to the hunt.” Styx was right. Our dear ole dad didn’t take kindly to anyone ignoring the rules, including his own sons. A single infraction usually meant we were beaten. But anything egregious brought the kind of savagery that nightmares were made of.

  I would never forget the moment we heard a loud popping sound followed by our father’s footsteps as he’d walked into our study room. He’d looked all three of us in the eyes, saying with no emotion that our mother had left.

  It was the moment the three of us knew we had no one to count on but each other.

  And our father.

  The most dangerous man alive.

  The vehicle rolled to a stop, two of our dad’s most trusted men climbing from the old car. They stood in front of the headlights, waiting as the protocol required. It didn’t matter that the trunk was closed. I could still hear the cries of the man picked up earlier in the evening. He’d been warned not to hassle my family or my father’s powerful regime. The fucker had ignored the helpful advice, choosing to take out decent men inside a diner only days before.

  I shifted from foot to foot again, more eager than normal to get the hunt going. How many had my brothers and I participated in? How many assholes who’d dared defy us were rotting in their graves?

  Within seconds, the air crackled from heightened electricity indicating my father’s approach. He enjoyed the pomp and circumstance almost as much as watching the brutal game via dozens of monitors while perched on his throne.

  I grinned as our father approached while Easton was cowering in the shadows. He didn’t understand the need for the hunts, the ritual that had garnered our father his reputation. I relished the experience, learning how to be better than anyone else on the planet. Sadly, my two brothers didn’t feel the same.

  As our father threw out his arms in a kinglike move, I found myself tingling all over. Some would say this was wrong, an abomination, that playing judge and jury should be left to the courts or to God. But I knew better. This was exactly what needed to happen in our world.

  “A truly glorious night,” our father said, peering up at the heavens as if he was the truest savior of the world.

  “Yes, Father,” all three of us chanted in unison while the two soldiers remained still. They knew their places within our father’s regime.

  “Let it begin,” he commanded after taking a deep breath.

  As required, the two soldiers headed to the trunk, taking their time to unlock it, finally jerking it open. They’d learned that almost as important as the artistry of the kill was the allowing of the utmost anticipation by the participant. As the fucker was dragged from the trunk, the light presented the blood and bruises he’d already received for daring to resist his fate.

  The enemy had been stripped bare, buck naked as the day he was born. That’s the only way those who’d been judged should meet their maker.

  He was tossed onto the ground, one of the soldiers grabbing the back of his neck with one hand as he reached into his pocket with the other, yanking out a pocketknife. Everything was ceremonial, including slicing through the thick rope binding his wrists together.

  I was edgier than normal, perhaps because the man’s son had taunted me at school years before, the kid stupid enough to bully me inside one of the bathrooms. He’d learned his lesson, screaming for his mommy after I’d gotten finished with him. But sadly, the kid wouldn’t be forced to anticipate in the primal event. Even my merciless father had a certain number of scruples.

  Once the fucker was freed, he scuttled away like the vermin he was, even going as far as hugging the closest tree. His lips were puffy, one eye swollen shut. As he scanned the area, his chest was rising and falling from his ragged breathing.

  My father took a step forward, holding his favorite spear in his hand. Tonight, he looked like a tribal warrior, a truly evil man. “Edward Vallerio, you have been found guilty of performing sins against mankind. For that, you have been handed down the punishment of participating in the hunt.”

  He rarely explained why or what the rules were, but I had a sense tonight he was more than eager to toy with the man.

  “What the fuck?” Edward managed. “You’re going to die. All of you.”

  Even the way my father laughed was threatening to most men. Tonight, he was relishing his power even more than usual. He pointed his spear toward the participant. “Your fate has been selected. However, I am a fair man. You see the woods around you? The forest is thick for ten miles in every direction. But there is a path that can lead to your salvation, granting you parole. If you’re successful in reaching the finish line prior to being caught by one or more of my sons, then you will be set free.”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind,” Edward insisted.

  There were things that should never be said to my father, including challenging his mental aptitude. I was certain he was going to lose
his temper, which wouldn’t bode well for Edward. My father was shaking from rage, the man daring to defy him even having the audacity to laugh at Dad’s discomfort.

  I prayed to God the asshole hadn’t ruined the night. We’d been waiting for over three months for a fresh specimen. I would gut the son of a bitch myself if he fucked up the event.

  Finally, my father managed to rake his hand through his hair, smiling as if nothing in the world bothered him. That meant he would push us to increase our methods of torture to the highest point.

  My favorite.

  “You will have a ten-minute head start. In my mind, that’s fair. I suggest you don’t waste the valuable time.” He pointed toward the darkest part of the forest, staring Edward in his eyes.

  “Don’t waste time,” Styx finally commented, mimicking our father as if on cue.

  “You’re all fucking crazy,” Edward retorted as he wiped blood from his mouth. After he glanced at all of us, his expression changing to a pleading look when he turned his head toward our soldiers, he finally got the picture. The dumb fuck. It had taken him long enough. He finally took off running.

  Our father pounded his chest, yelling like Tarzan. “Don’t let me down, boys. Make it painful and bloody.”

  “Yes, sir,” we answered, watching as he turned toward the Jeep that had brought him to the starting line. As he climbed inside, he issued a battle cry, which we answered in kind. Only I also threw my head back and howled like a wolf.

  Tonight would be the greatest testament of our faith and our abilities, a test to see if we were prepared for our illustrious futures. As the clock ticked down, my brothers and I communicated with our eyes. Very soon, all of this would belong to us.

  I was far too eager as I pulled my favorite weapons into my hands, sliding several into my pockets, placing the gun into the holster, my least favorite but sometimes necessary. Then I lifted my beloved machete, the specs of blood from the last hunt remaining.

  “It’s time,” Easton growled, finally feeling the excitement. As the two of them took off running, I waited just long enough to issue my favorite statement.

  “Beware, little prey. The big bad wolves will find you.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Twenty years later

  Creed

  The stench of blood in the air was more enjoyable than it had been in a hell of a long time. The beast inside of me had already risen, demanding his pound of flesh for the betrayal. While lately I’d sent my men to handle losers and rats, my time taken with building the Saint Empire, including that of our weapons corporation, I’d craved getting my hands dirty.

  I’d been determined to take out the assholes myself. I stood over one of them, fisting the broken man’s shaggy hair, staring down at his brutally beaten face. My soldiers had worked him and the other two men over prior to me arriving at what I liked to call my warehouse sanctuary. My family’s corporation owned dozens of buildings in Chicago, some worth millions while others were slated to be torn down. At some point. And this building in particular had been targeted for demolition in the next two weeks.

  Fortunately, a new pad of concrete was about to be poured, the thick foundation of a brand-new arts building. Our family had ventured into less profitable but soul healing decisions including funding various arts programs in our beloved city. Well, Chicago was only home to two of the three Saint children, my older brother Styx returning to his life as a surgeon in Boston. However, he’d convinced Easton and me that providing a location for students in several artistic programs who couldn’t otherwise afford a formal education was ideal for our reputation.

  Without actually trying, we’d become heroes in just a few months, our donations to the ballet, opera, symphony, and arts foundations bringing us the kind of recognition one couldn’t buy even with the billions of dollars we had. That had forced the typical haters of our main business operations to take a couple of steps back. Yes, we were the world’s largest and most profitable producers of combat weapons in the world. Our technology was off the charts, our designers and scientists creating everything from security devices to undetectable bombs.

  That had brought us thousands of haters over the years. But we weren’t daunted, only careful who we sold to.

  My thoughts drifted to longing for a hunt, the desire taking me back almost twenty years to when my brothers and I had been young and stupidly naïve. We’d cried for our mother who’d walked out on us. But I knew the truth, even if I hadn’t told my brothers what I’d found. I hadn’t needed to.

  But the day I’d found her bones in a shallow grave on the property I still owned, the dress we’d last seen her in a dead giveaway, I’d ceased the hunts altogether. My father had killed her, driving a single bullet into her brain. Maybe I’d known it all along. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to believe it.

  But it had added credence to how we’d all come together to handle our father’s brutality, taking out his hatred on his own children.

  It was strange to think about the past now, something I’d fought hard not to do over the years. All three of us had. I hadn’t even stepped foot on the hunting grounds in well over eight years, if not longer. But now? It was all I’d been able to think about as of late.

  The adrenaline rush was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, a high few people ever understood. It was better than any risky adventure. Better than drugs and certainly more satisfying than sex.

  I could almost taste blood, the desire was so strong. Maybe I would plan a hunt for the future. Perhaps I could convince my brothers to participate in one if for no other reason than old time’s sake. I even had the duffle full of medieval weapons our father had amassed safely secured in a hidden location inside my estate.

  Back to reality. I could fantasize all I wanted when business here had been concluded.

  I took a deep breath as the man I was holding struggled, eyeing the old building that I’d actually taken a liking to. If only we could save the old bones, bricks and mortar that had been around since the late nineteen hundreds. It wasn’t feasible and the foundation would keep many secrets for years to come.

  “Please, Mr. Saint. I didn’t do anything.”

  I did so loathe men who cried like babies, lying through their swollen lips about the most obvious situation there could be. The idiot had been caught on camera with his two buddies attempting to make a side sale of several stolen pallets of weapons and ammunition to the kind of third world country even we refused to sell to.

  And for an exploited price, enough money so the three stooges could live comfortably on some tropical island for the rest of their lives. Or until the country they’d sold the shit to blew up the entire freaking world. That wasn’t the Saint objective. Not at all. We enjoyed life. We reveled in our power and influence, the wealth that had allowed us to afford all the tasty goodies and toys we’d amassed over the years.

  Even Styx, while turning more… reputable in his life’s endeavors, enjoyed the peace of mind our hefty bank accounts provided given his growing family. Who knew one of the Saint boys could enjoy living a decent, humanitarian life while thriving on procreating. It had been something we’d promised collectively against after our father’s demise. No more kids.

  Oh, well. Things had changed. Not for me.

  I was the most ruthless and savage of the three, which was why I was the Don of the Saint Empire. We were very much like every other crime syndicate, only I liked to think of us as far more intelligent in our choices and in acquiring opportunities.

  “Paul. You’re a fucking asshole and not just a liar if you expect me to believe that bullshit.” I couldn’t help myself, backhanding the shackled man. The force pitched him to the ground, his whimpers turning into full blown sobs. I motioned to one of my half dozen soldiers, who stomped forward, both righting the jerk’s body while pulling out his small iPad.

  “Please. Please.” Paul continued to whine like a baby.

  “Take a look, my friend. You tell me what you see.” I stood back while my soldier hit play, allowing the man I was staring at to watch in dark yet vivid color the exchange he made with the dangerous Iranian. Paul’s surprise turned into panic.

  “He made us do it, Mr. Saint,” Jimmy said from his position behind me. Both he and Wally, the third accomplice, were tied to very uncomfortable chairs, waiting their turns to be executed. I did so enjoy tormenting them. If I had more time on my hands, I would take them for a nice, long hunt. Sadly, I had a meeting to go to prior to Styx and his lovely wife arriving in town.