STRICTLY FORBIDDEN

  PIPER STONE

  CONTENTS

  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

  Afterword

  Books of the Lords of Corruption Series

  Books of the Cruel Kings 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

  Strictly Forbidden

  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.

  CHAPTER 1

  Noel

  A peal of thunder cracked across the ominous night sky, a clear indication the horrific storm was making its final approach.

  I shifted against the building, trying to catch my breath and secure my bearings. I’d managed to escape, fighting the weakness and nausea from the sedatives the monster had used. But every limb was heavy, every step I took as if doing so in quicksand. It was dark. Why did it have to be so dark? As the first drops of rain hit my face, I relished the stinging sensations, my skin little more than mottled bruises.

  After finally catching my breath, I scanned the vast area, searching desperately for any hint of light, praying someone could help me. There was nothing. No people milling the empty street, no sounds of laughter or anything indicating there was other life.

  Than him.

  The embodiment of evil.

  I closed my eyes, my entire body trembling. Hot tears trickled down my face, seconds later turning into racking sobs. Horrified, I slapped my hand across my mouth, fearful he’d hear me. I had to fight, to flee the horrible prison, but I was fearful I had nothing left to give. More determined, I wiped my face with my filthy hands and scooted to the corner of the building, darting my head toward the street.

  The place was a deserted town, its buildings housing only members of the homeless. Almost everywhere I looked there was trash and other debris, most facilities dilapidated as if they’d been abandoned for some time.

  The place and the horrific night were a carbon copy of… no. I couldn’t go down that wretched road or I’d never manage to escape and this was my one chance.

  Seeing no one, I ventured out further, careful with my steps as I headed to what I was certain was a dense forest. I remembered bits and pieces of being brought here, the sedative not strong enough to do anything but keep my mind fuzzy and my muscles too weak to fight.

  I took another few gulps of air before dashing across what had to be an alley, giving myself a mental high five when I made it to the other side. My entire body ached, the lack of food and constant beatings taking a toll on every muscle.

  As well as my mind.

  You can do this. You can do this. Go. Go. Go.

  I glanced all around me again, doing everything I could not to dry heave. There was nothing of any substance in my stomach, food a distant memory. At least other than bread and water. I rubbed my wrists, the thick coil I’d broken free from leaving a wound that was itching from the dried blood. A part of me just wanted to accept my fate. That the bastard was going to kill me. But his plans were sick, repulsive. He was using women for something. What? Body parts? Draining their blood?

  I’d conjured up so many stories, so many horrors.

  I waited, still listening. Still praying. I could see the forest. The trees were real.

  Just like in one of my stories.

  My God, the bastard had recreated one of my books. I hadn’t realized what he’d done, the lengths he’d gone to until I scanned the deserted street. Sadly, in my book, none of the victims managed to get away. Time to change the ending. With a solid boost of adrenaline, I finally decided I was ready to do this.

  But I heard a metallic scrape and froze, sucking in and holding my breath.

  And a whistle, a melodic tune that I knew far too well.

  He’s coming. Run. Run!

  It was the same one he used every time he stomped downstairs into the basement where I’d been kept for days, maybe weeks. There was no night, no day. No light, just darkness and cold.

  I could swear even now I could hear his footsteps on the rickety wooden stairs.

  Heavy thumps.

  I’d never seen his face, but I knew he was huge, very muscular.

  I pressed my body against the cracked brick, trying to find an alternative way of escaping. The whistling continued, a happy tune of a kid’s nursery rhyme that had already dulled my senses. I slapped my hands over my ears, trying desperately to drown it out. Another wave of tears and anguish rushed through me.

  If I didn’t run now, he’d win. He’d fucking win.

  Do it. Do it. Run. Run!

  I took off sprinting, doing everything I could to keep from shrieking. Even if there was someone here, they wouldn’t help me. They’d never go against the Claw. I ran hard and fast, even though my bare feet were bruised and bloody. Rocks penetrated my skin, the pain blinding. But I continued. I had to. Going back wasn’t an option. I knew what horrors he’d inflict, the agony that would go on for hours.

  I noticed something reflected in the single dingy streetlight still working and carefully headed toward it. It was a metal bar of some kind. A weapon. Oh, dear God. I’d been lucky enough to find a weapon. Snatching it, the cold metal felt solid in my hand, like the only lifeline I might find. No one knew I was here. I wondered if anyone was even looking for me.

  The rain began to fall in torrents. Within seconds I was drenched but nothing would stop me. Nothing. I was almost gleeful when I noticed I was close to the forest. If I could reach the safety of the trees, I had a chance. One chance. A stitch formed in my side and I had to stop and catch my breath.

  Go. Go. Now.

  I followed my little voice, rushing forward.

  And straight into the arms of my captor.

  My eyes snapped open as I was jerked from restless sleep. My conscience had pushed me to awaken, protecting me against the horrific images as it had done so many times before. I jerked up, making a terrified sound like that of an injured animal. The images had been so real, more so than usual. Why? Why couldn’t I let them go?

  So many years had gone by, enough that I should be over the paralyzing fear, but it wasn’t happening. What was wrong with me?

  Even now, I played out how I’d managed to escape his grip, using the metal prod as a knife, jamming into his face and neck several times.

  Only he hadn’t died.

  I scanned my bedroom, hating the darkness even more. As I quickly fumbled to turn on a light, I heard a rumble of thunder and almost toppled the lamp. A slight shriek erupted and I was certain the boogeyman would leap from the shadows.

  As warm light flooded the room, I yanked the covers up to my shoulders, still whimpering. There was nothing there. No monster. No villain. There never was. My brain remained fuzzy and I dropped my head into my hands, allowing the sobs to consume me tonight.

  I thought I’d gotten better, that I could handle living and being very much alone. But nothing was okay any longer.

  The bastard had won.

  He’d won.

  Just like he’d promised to do.

  Florence supermax prison

  Kage

  Some experts said monsters were made, not inherently evil.

  They were fools.<
br />
  The bastards I’d spent years with were pure demons, the worst of mankind. Not that I was too far removed but at least I believed I still had a conscience.

  Not these fuckheads.

  As I snatched a towel from the prison attendant, I almost laughed seeing how threadbare the clinically white mistake for terrycloth was. Budget cuts. So I’d heard. The truth was that no one gave a shit about the monsters left to die in the only supermax prison in the United States. We were considered the worst of the worst.

  Here I was, a former decorated Marine.

  That had been a lifetime ago. I was no longer that man.

  As I sauntered into the group shower, I knew instantly this morning was that day, the one most inmates dreaded. There were gangs inside the prison walls, affiliations with powerful outside organizations and crime syndicates. The guards, although highly trained, could do nothing to stop the beatings.

  Or the bloodshed.

  I’d been labeled a killer, taking out the son of the man I’d worked for, which was a fucking lie. I’d taken the fall out of loyalty instead. But it didn’t matter now any more than it had then. The fucking prosecutor had needed a win, especially over a brutal cartel.

  So here I was, a caged animal with no rights. If I said a goddamn thing in my defense, my tongue would be cut out as a first strike. The rest would be worse. I had no real affiliation inside the joint, although there wasn’t a soul who didn’t have a clue who I was and where I’d come from.

  Those had been the only details they’d gotten correct.

  I was considered dangerous, unstable. It was best for the other thugs to think that way. My deranged and brutal actions were the sole reason they’d mostly left me alone. That and the fact I’d crushed two hands, broken six arms, and damaged a fucking kidney since I’d been here. But I sensed everything about this morning was different.

  I calmly walked to the shower, tossing my towel before standing under the barely lukewarm water. At least the shit was clear, not brown today. As I grabbed the soap, I noticed two soldiers from a Russian Bratva huddled in the corner. Leave it to the Russians to try to take me out. They’d soon learn the error of their ways.

  I found it interesting that so many attempts had been made by different cartels or soldiers from other mafia families. Pick a nationality and they’d attempted. When would they learn?

  It wasn’t long before other inmates inside the shower were backing away. While I acted as if I wasn’t paying any attention, the truth was far from it. As a former Black Ops member, I’d learned stealth in my sleep, and had the keenest observation skills of anyone I knew. The bastards wouldn’t realize they’d found themselves in a snake pit of sorts until it was too late.

  As usual, the assholes were cocky, as so many of the lifers were. I waited until the right moment, when the Russians had flanked either side before attacking. I didn’t need to carve shanks from spoons inside the joint. My fists and techniques had been turned into deadly weapons.

  Without hesitation, I attacked. There was nothing more joyful in this bleak world than hearing the sounds of bones crunching. I threw my palm around one soldier’s fist, crushing it between my fingers as I kicked the crude rusty knife from the other’s hand. As the first guy howled, I kicked him against the cinder block wall and started in on the other guy. Issuing punch after punch, within seconds the guy’s face was unrecognizable.

  The first guy tried to come back strong, but he was no boxer. I spun around, kicking him hard in the gut then issuing a final blow to the second dude, watching in sheer glee as he slowly dropped to the shower floor.

  When I snapped my head back to the first guy, I was rewarded with seeing fear in his eyes. That wasn’t enough for me. He swung a futile punch and I caught his hand in mine, bending his arm at an awkward angle. The final snap forced the other inmates to gasp.

  Before they started cheering.

  What a fucking game. There were no guards in sight. They’d likely been paid well to allow this shit to go down. The way of the world, and the prison had a certain ruling system of its own. I doubted anyone close to the prison hadn’t been corrupted.

  I took my time rinsing off the blood before grabbing my towel and heading out.

  More time in solitary confinement.

  So the fuck what?

  CHAPTER 2

  Kage

  Chained like an animal.

  That’s all I’d been for years, treated as if I was scum on the bottom of a guard’s shoe. As I was led past the other inmates, they screamed obscenities and made threats, nothing that mattered to the faceless men who’d taken the job of trying to keep the peace. Sadly, most of the guards had been bought by one gang or another, eager and willing to follow directions, abusing inmates as ordered.

  They mostly left me alone, but today as I was shoved down the ugly corridor, one of two guards was poking me with one of his bully sticks over and over again. It was typical, prisoners with a short fuse launching at them, chained or not. That allowed them permission to beat the fuck out of the man attempting to protect himself.

  I wasn’t in the mood to be goaded by anyone at this point. And I hadn’t bothered to ask where the fuck the bastards were taking me. What did it matter at this point? Maybe they were taking me to see the warden where he’d tell me additional time had been shoved onto my record. It was a supermax prison. They could do anything they wanted and no one cared.

  As the guards stopped at one of the interrogation rooms, the ugliest and meanest of them snickered before unlocking the door. The hard shove was typical, but this time slammed me against the table.

  “That is enough!” Her voice was harsher than normal, the prison psychologist usually very demure. She jerked to her feet, her face reddening. “Not only will I report this to your warden, but I can and will ensure you are tossed out of here on your asses with no chance at receiving your pension if I ever see you abusing a prisoner again. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen?”

  I grinned before glancing over my shoulder. The two jerks were shocked and pissed off. Oh, boy, didn’t I feel sorry for them. Not.

  “Do you understand?” she hissed. Wow. The woman actually had a backbone.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Johnny boy said with a sneer on his face.

  “Un-fucking-cuff him. Now.”

  She even cursed. Someone must have pissed in her Wheaties. I liked the new Cecilia Daniels. I’d seen her a few times given my… anger issues. She’d been motherly, trying to nurture me into being a good man, reminding me I’d served my country and had been a model citizen. Who cared? As if I could turn over a new leaf now. I was nothing but an empty, enraged shell.

  “He’s a dangerous criminal capable of eating your face off,” Mark the shadow said. He was the guard most likely to become a fuck toy for the big cartel lord inside the place.

  “I’ll take my chances,” she said. “He’s a human being, unlike the two of you.”

  Holy fuck. She was on a roll.

  Johnny cursed under his breath as he followed her directions, and it was all I could do not to kick the son of a bitch in the face. When the shackles had been removed, she finally turned her attention toward me, offering a respectful smile. I’d been tough on her during our meetings. Her attempt at getting through the thick block wall I’d placed around myself had done nothing but anger me and I’d made certain she knew it.

  It felt good to be treated like a human being for a change.

  “Now, get out and I do not want us bothered,” she told them, nodding toward the door.

  “It’s your funeral, lady,” Mark said.

  “That’s Doctor Daniels to you. It’s about time you boys learn some respect.”

  I had to give her more credit than I had at this point. She was damn good at putting them in their places. When they were gone, slamming the door behind them, she rubbed her hands down the jacket of her conservative suit.

  While she was older, not quite enough to be my mother, her age wouldn’t matter to the thugs inside here. Most hadn’t seen a woman in years. Any piece of meat was good enough for them.

  “Sit down, Mr. Bronson.”

  I eyed her warily and she shook her head.

  “Please?”

  Grinning, I did as she asked, thumping into the chair then rubbing my wrists. The fuckers had purposely ensured that the steel was digging into my skin.