OWN ME

  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

  Afterword

  Books of the Dmitriyev Bratva Series

  Books of the Devil’s Syndicate Series

  Books of the Legacy of Kings Series

  Books of the Vengeful Empire Series

  Books of the Brutal Empire Series

  Books of the Savage Empire Series

  Books of the Ruthless Empire Series

  Books of the Benedetti Empire Series

  Books of the Mafia Masters Series

  More Mafia and Billionaire Romances by Piper Stone

  Books of the Claimed and Protected Series

  Books of the Mountain Men of Danger Falls Series

  Books of the Montana Bad Boys Series

  Books of the Missoula Bad Boys Series

  More Rough Romances by Piper Stone

  Books of the Ruthless Instinct Series

  Books of the Alpha Beasts Series

  Books of the Cenzan Mates Series

  More Sci-Fi and Paranormal Romances by Piper Stone

  About Piper Stone

  Copyright © 2025 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

  Own Me

  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

  Sasha

  Click. Click. Click. Click.

  I finally turned off the light, preferring the darkness. Even the goddamn moon coming in through the blinds was too fucking bright. Hissing, I shielded my eyes. The luminous shimmer creeping through my closed fingers was still annoying.

  “Goddamn it.” When I struggled to stand, I stumbled forward, hitting the edge of the table. Down I went. A laugh bubbled to the surface. At least I hadn’t spilled a single drop of booze in my fall.

  Maybe I wasn’t so fucked up after all.

  Almost instantly, another wave of sorrow settled in and I crawled back to where I’d been sitting. Where I’d been hiding from the rest of the world. The floor was nice and cool. I threw one arm around my bended knees, taking another swig. The burn from the vodka felt good against my throat. How much had I consumed?

  Too much, but who gave a shit. Not me.

  Leaning my head against the wall, I took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. There were spots in colors. Wow. Look at that shit.

  Another swig.

  Another sigh.

  Then utter gut-wrenching sadness. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” I held up the bottle, ready to pitch it across the room. I’d never been this angry or this volatile. Or this…

  Tears streamed down my face and I smacked my head against the wall. Why hadn’t it been me? Why? Why? Goddamn it. Why?

  Every muscle aching from exhaustion and agony, I rubbed my arm across my eyes, feeling a stream of liquid from the bottle. What the hell did I care at this point? I could get more. Any damn time I wanted. There was nothing wrong with me. Fuck, I was Sasha Dmitriyev. Proud member of a Bratva regime. I could handle any goddamn thing that fucking came my way.

  Emotions were not my friend. They never had been. They were a weakness that the nephew of a powerful Pakhan couldn’t afford. Yet here I was sobbing like a baby.

  “Everything will be okay, son.”

  I heard my mother’s voice clearly inside my head, the soft whisper like the brush of kisses she used to give me as a young boy.

  “I’m trying, Mama. I just can’t.”

  My words were barely audible, strangled by my sadness and rage. I threw my fist in the air, staring at the ceiling as if some divine intervention would provide me with answers. Maybe the strength to carry on.

  “We’ll get the son of a bitch if it’s the last thing we do.” Mikhail’s voice shoved aside my mother’s. His tone was full of defiance and the same anger I’d experienced for months. Months of searching. Months of turning over rocks finding nothing but cockroaches. Months of enduring sheer agony to the point I just couldn’t take it any longer. He’d be Pakhan soon. Leader of a powerful family, perhaps the most powerful in the United States. He needed to display confidence when the monster was still roaming the streets, laughing from destroying something so pure and innocent.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think that’s gonna happen, cuz. I know you’ve tried.” We all had. Every member of the family, but no one was talking. Talking to ghosts or figures who were just aspects of my tortured imagination weren’t helping anything.

  Outside the family, no one even cared any longer. Another statistic. Another violent crime.

  Another story to put to rest.

  “Fuck. Fuck!” The goddamn stream of moonlight captured something on the table. I’d forgotten I’d even put it there. What, for protection? I laughed again. Maybe that was the answer. Maybe it was best if I didn’t need to worry my family any longer. Maybe…

  I tossed the bottle aside, not caring if it had fallen on its side, and crawled toward the table. Every muscle ached as much as my heart. As soon as I wrapped my fingers around the cold, hard steel, I felt stronger.

  More like myself.

  More like the ruthless man I’d been.

  Pulling the weapon into the stream of light, I took several deep breaths. This was the best choice for everyone. Everyone. Steadying my hand, I shoved the barrel into my mouth. It could all be so easy. Then I would find peace. Who knows. Maybe happiness.

  Only she was in heaven and I’d go straight to hell, no get out of jail free card for me.

  The pain excruciating, I closed my eyes, trying not to allow the memories to influence me.

  I could do this.

  I had the strength.

  Waaaah…

  The sharp wail drew my attention and my eyes flew open. What?

  Now my hand was shaking as I jerked the gun free, trying to figure out what I’d heard. The sound occurred again. A wail. A cry. A little cry.

  Oh, my God. What the hell was I doing? What the fuck was wrong with me?

  Very carefully I placed the gun on the table and struggled to my feet, forced to grip the back of the chair to keep from falling. With another cry, I was suddenly sober, the ache and anger pushed aside.

  All I could think about was getting to her.

  To my baby daughter.

  I stumbled up the stairs, rushing to her room, thanking God my father had insisted on installing baby monitors all throughout the house.

  Throwing open the door to her room, I took a few seconds to catch my breath, staring at the spinning mobile over her bed providing sparkles of light.

  With cautious steps, I walked closer, realizing she wasn’t crying. She was laughing, reaching up to the stars, her little eyes as bright as they were in the sky.

  “Oh, my baby. My baby girl.” Scooping her up in my arms, I held her tightly, holding back sobs as she reached for the mobile. “You like that, huh?”

  She giggled again and reached for my face, placing her tiny fingers against my cheek.

  “Oh, Nina. You don’t have to worry. Daddy is going to get better. For you. For us. You’re my everything.” As soon as I began to hum a song my mother had sung to me a very long time before, she cocked her head. She was listening.

  I moved to the rocking chair, the one that had taken us so long to find, testing at least two dozen before finding the right one. As I sat down, she laid her head against my chest and for the first time, I began to sing. Softly. Slowly.

  Rocking.

  Singing.

  And soon, my little baby girl, my miracle angel and the breath of my life was fast asleep.

  CHAPTER 1

  Six and a half years later…

  Sasha

  “Stop worrying, Halle. The party is going to go off without a hitch.” I backed against the wall as a rush of people flooded the corridor behind the stage. Reporters were everywhere, roadies trying to weave their way through the crowd so they could begin dismantling the set.

  “Are you kidding me?” she snorted. “You put me in charge of this birthday party and everything must and will be perfect.”

  Another memory brought me to a halt. Fuck. It was like clockwork although this year, the date had snuck up on me. I’d already walked several laps around my resort and the concert hall during the arduous day, acting like
a tiger pacing his cage. I’d spent an hour in Dreamscape’s gym pumping iron and jumping rope. It had done nothing but put me in a foul mood given the conversations I’d overheard.

  I’d been surrounded by happy people celebrating birthdays and anniversaries. There’d even been one guy chatting with a stranger about his dozen ideas for proposing to his girlfriend of two years. It had taken every ounce of my control not to drop a hundred-pound weight on his head.

  It went without saying I was in a nasty mood and crowds didn’t help.

  “Sasha. Are you with me?” Halle chided.

  I glanced at my watch, waiting until my vision had cleared. Goddamn, I loathed being chained to the past. “I’m here.”

  Which was only partially correct. I hated the date on the calendar. I had for seven fucking years.

  As the noise in the hallway overpowered everything else, I slipped away from the craziness into an adjunct office I used when spending any time in the concert space. While I adored my cousin’s wife, she was a type-A personality on steroids. But she was the perfect person to orchestrate my daughter Nina’s seventh birthday party since she had a daughter close in age.

  With my rough business schedule, and long hours including working weekends the last few months, I’d needed help, or I’d throw the kind of party that would crash and burn. Nina was a harsh critic about everything her daddy did or didn’t do.

  “What’s going wrong with the arrangements?” This time. Before it had been a crisis with balloons. Before that, the caterer had walked. At least I’d had another contact that could pick up the slack without hesitation. It paid to know people in Las Vegas.

  With my eyes aching like a son of a bitch, I leaned against the wall, reminding myself this only occurred once a year. Thank God for that. I sucked at being a dad.

  “The entertainment bagged. Poof. They’re gone.”

  “Who did you hire again?”

  “A world-renowned juggler and clowns. Plus, they were going to bring a bounce house with them.”

  There were world-renowned jugglers? Really?

  And a bounce house. I loathed them. In my mind they were terribly unsafe. And I thought I’d told Halle that Nina hated clowns. Who didn’t? They were creepy as shit. Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t be so elated that there was another failure with the party, but this one made me happy.

  While I had no clue who I could hire on such short notice, I was bound and determined that this deadbeat dad was going to do something right. “I’ll take care of the entertainment.”

  “How? How are you going to do that on short notice? I’ve checked around. There is nobody available.”

  Hearing noise just outside the door that included singing, several girls doing their best to sound like Lainey Rose, a strange and perhaps impossible idea popped into my mind.

  Lainey Rose had just finished her phenomenal residency, the wildly popular musician topping every chart with every album she released. She’d been the best decision I’d made for our entertainment venue since I’d taken over management.

  Our numbers had soared for months, every resort fully booked, our casinos, restaurants, and nightclubs at max every day and night.

  As I opened the door, I was able to see Lainey coming down the hallway, signing autographs along the way. People adored her. She was sweet, funny, smart, and one of the hottest women I’d ever met in my life.

  She was also my daughter’s favorite singer, Nina memorizing every word of every song. How many months had I been forced to listen to the sappy love songs that drove both young girls and women wild?

  Too many.

  However…

  “Just leave it to me, Halle. I promise you I won’t let you down.” Every once in a while, I could be pretty damn persuasive. I bit back a smile. I had no clue how Alexsey controlled the feisty woman. She was a handful, but certainly good for my cousin.

  He’d stopped being a brooding asshole and had found a personality.

  “If you do, you know what will happen,” Halle barked at me.

  “Yes, I do. I promise I’ll be a very good boy. Now, I need to attend to a few things.”

  She growled into the phone and hung up on me. I slipped mine into my pocket, pounding the back of my head against the wall.

  Being a single father wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.

  At least my little girl seemed happy. She loved school, her friends, and her family. What more could I ask? She had no understanding of the family legacy she’d been born into and that was fine by me. In some people’s eyes, she was a Bratva princess, a tool to be used later in life. To me, she was my perfect princess and the only thing left of a life I’d once enjoyed. I would do anything for her.

  Including using every technique I’d mastered in convincing women to do what I wanted with Lainey Rose if necessary. A slight smile crossed my face. Although she wasn’t a typical girl. She was a combination of innocence and wild kitty all wrapped up into a lovely package. In the months of limited conversations, I’d learned she had a fiery personality, squelched by a team of idiots who’d created a perfect, marketable package.

  Maybe my enjoyment of women was jaded or at least had been over the last few years. I had my reasons that in my mind were acceptable. However, seeing how her team had manipulated her had pissed me off. Sadly, I wasn’t in control of her. If I was… Filthy thoughts drifted into my mind, completely inappropriate.

  Then again, maybe she needed a change in direction. Or at least a day spent away from the norm.

  All she could do was say no, which I anticipated she would do. Private gigs weren’t in her contracts.

  “Trouble in paradise, boss?” Jaxon asked. He was my right-hand man. Not only considered security but also a good friend.

  “Just my cousin’s wife freaking out about entertainment for Nina’s party.”

  He laughed. “Let me guess. You’re going to ask our resident superstar if she’ll consider attending the party. Nina does adore her.”

  “You know me too well.”

  “How tight do you want security with or without a special guest?”

  “Tight. We have guests coming, people I don’t know.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll be vetted.”

  I gave him a look, chuckling as we walked. “Don’t make my house look like a police state.”

  He threw up his hands. “Yes, sir.”

  “Make sure we don’t have any incidents out here in the hallway. I can tell the reporters are itching for yet another story.” I headed into my office.

  Once inside, I took a deep breath and headed to the window. The last few months had been exhausting, but extremely profitable.

  A few minutes later, I checked my emails and waited until the commotion died down before leaving the office. At this point she was decompressing in her dressing room, most reporters scampering away to provide their soundbites for the late evening news.

  As I headed down the hall, I buttoned my suit jacket. Stopping short, I noticed a man who’d been thrown out of the concert venue before, fighting with Jaxon.

  “Let me go. I need to see Lainey!”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. While it wasn’t unusual for a groupie to try to avoid our security measures, I had to admit that my patience had vanished. The slight scuffle ensuing was it. I’d had enough.

  Jaxon had him by the arm and with two long strides, I was in front of the man’s face, barely two inches away. Given my height and bulk, I used my size as a deterrent. At this point, he was lucky my anger hadn’t kicked in. I took another step and his eyes opened wide.

  The guest slammed his back against the wall out of fear, darting his eyes to Jaxon then back to me. Thankfully, the man was nervous instead of engaging in some level of arrogance. That would bode well for him walking out without a broken arm or nose. The stench of whiskey assaulted my senses. The man was intoxicated. Another reason I couldn’t express the full extent of my anger.

  “Now, I’m going to tell you this once. I’m going to have Jaxon escort you out and ensure you get to your destination safely. However, given my act of kindness, you’re going to promise me you will never set foot in this establishment again. Yes?”

  He acted as if he wasn’t going to honor my request, so I inched closer. The odor was suffocating. I cocked my head, remaining silent. If looks could kill, the guy would be engulfed in quicksand.