Hunt me a dark mafia rom.., p.1
Hunt Me: A Dark Mafia Romance, page 1
HUNT 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
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Afterword
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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.
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Stone, Piper
Hunt 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
Mikhail Dmitriyev
Darkness was my friend.
Violence my obsession.
Bloodshed my reward.
A motto I’d chosen to live by.
“Time to kill the motherfuckers.”
Sergio’s voice rumbled through the group of soldiers. The deep tone was tinged with the same hatred we all felt.
No one betrayed the Dmitriyev Bratva and lived.
The Irish had been doing it for years, attempting to destroy the empire my father and uncle had created. I sneered as I moved forward into the broken-down yet operable amusement park, a relic from the early glory days of Las Vegas. Now, the once-cherished family entertainment center catered to birthday parties and school functions, barely making ends meet. Not for long. The Irish had full intention of building a glorious entertainment mecca.
The twenty-five acres of land located just outside of Vegas was prime real estate. After its destruction, a resort would be built.
But with the Dmitriyev name attached.
The true reason for the park’s continued existence was to allow the Irish scum to launder money more creatively than most. The facility was also used as a meeting zone, a safe retreat away from prying eyes and law enforcement. Families of the Irish clan enjoyed the park while the monsters running the organization discussed who they’d annihilate next.
In addition, the park was used to house millions of dollars of illegal drugs, their mainstay of financial gain. Today, they’d lose a substantive dollar amount. That thought alone kept a smile on my face and a bloodthirst in my veins.
Why?
Because I’d been the one to discover the park’s existence, a location formerly enshrouded in secrecy and security. Because of my investigative skills, I’d been promoted to an enforcer of my father’s regime. A true honor and one I carried with pride. My first test was to end the Irish patriarch’s life.
And I do so gladly, with joy in my heart.
I’d learned everything I could about the O’Shaughnessy clan, the patriarch little more than a butcher. He and his monsters had killed our people for the last time. We were eager to send them back to Los Angeles where they came from. Only I’d prefer to do so in body bags. They foolishly believed they were omnipotent, laughing at us for attempting to rule the city. Without extra security, they were sitting ducks.
At least the fuckers had made the attack easy.
Today was reckoning day.
It was time for Tristen and his entire brigade to meet their makers.
We’d cut through the iron fence at the back of the property. Twilight was just settling in, shadows forming across the empty maintenance buildings. We moved like true soldiers between them, heading for the building housing the Irishmen.
Music caught my attention, the carnival-like sounds creating an unsettling feeling.
The park should be closed, Sundays always used for ‘maintenance.’ Or in other words, to hold the secret meetings and to count their fortune.
In the lead, I threw out my hand, forcing the others to stop. I shifted against the building, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“What’s wrong?” Sergio asked. He was my father’s lieutenant, a man who’d traveled with my father and uncle when they’d left Moscow. As the most trusted man in my father’s employ and his friend, he was the leader of every mission.
“The music.”
He laughed and clapped me on the back. “A cover, mladshiy brat. They always keep their cover intact.”
Young brother. Sergio used the phrase selectively, a nod of respect to a single recruit groomed from a group of soldiers eager to please their master. My father. With confirmation of the amusement park as a target, I’d become the chosen one, Sergio my mentor. After I passed tonight’s test, the phrase would be buried along with my initiation. Until another was chosen. The old ways, initiations and tests as required by the Pakhan. Tonight, Sergio was allowing me to take the lead, forever watchful while teaching me the ropes.
A true honor.
“We should check to ensure there are no innocents.” Innocents. In our line of work, no one was truly innocent, yet I’d voiced my refusal to kill women and children before. This could make or break my promotion, but I stood fast in my beliefs. Nervous, I sought his approval.
“You will be a great leader one day. Make it happen.”
I nodded in relief, motioning the others to continue. “Vissarian. Check the perimeter. Make certain there are no innocent bystanders.”
My cousin was my age, already an aggressive soldier deemed vor v zakone, or in English a thief in law, also an honored position. He grabbed two of his men, heading off toward the main part of the amusement park where our task was to create an explosive surprise.
We moved in accordance with our plan, placing explosives in strategic locations. As we headed for the building housing the Irish bastards, my excitement grew to a near frenzy. I was itching to pull the trigger, eager to be a part of taking a man’s life. I was more than ready to accept my leadership role.
And one day I would rule as Pakhan.
When the devices were in position, we moved stealthily through the buildings toward the meeting facility. The goal was simple. Full annihilation of everyone inside. We refused to allow any chance for escape.
Sergio remained right behind me, his grin almost fatherly.
“Are you ready?” he asked from beside me.
“Let the fuckers burn.”
I didn’t hesitate, kicking open the door and rushing inside.
The Irishmen had zero chance to react before we opened fire. I stood in the center, allowing the AK-15 to do all the work. I’d envisioned taking my time, torturing every single asshole inside as they’d done to my Russian brothers, but my loyalty had prevented me from making the suggestion.
As the bodies dropped one after the other, I took a deep breath, admiring the work we’d accomplished. Strings of blood and gore covered the walls and floor, the massacre satisfying the sadist deep within.
A single moan drew my attention, one of the fuckers left alive. With a smile on my face, I stepped over the broken bodies, finding the asshole crawling toward the exit. As if he would make it out alive. I fisted his hair, twisting his body awkwardly while jerking out my knife.
His eyes opened wide, the terror in them delightful.
I recognized the fuck immediately as Tristen’s brother. Ryan was second in command. Equally as dangerous.
“Please. I have a family,” he whimpered.
I’ll be damned. Even the powerful crumbled in the end.
“Naslazhdaytes’ vremenem v adu,” I hissed seconds before driving the blade into his chest.
Enjoy time in hell.
As I twisted the knife, jerking it upward, blood spewed from his mouth, his screams dying almost immediately. Within seconds, the look of horror in his e
I caught Sergio’s eye.
He issued a single nod of respect.
I’d passed the test.
As I took several deep breaths, I did another sweep of the compound. “Where the fuck is Tristen?”
The fucker had either gotten wind of the attack or had simply sent his brother to do the dirty work. Ryan handled disposal of weak links. My mind was pulled toward the thought of the music I’d heard earlier. Had the fucker lured enemies here to their deaths?
“This will be enough,” Sergio stated, although I heard the same edge to his voice I had in mine.
Fuck. Goddamn it. I couldn’t allow my anger to corrode what we’d come to accomplish. I’d hunt Tristen O’Shaughnessy another day.
“Podzhech’ vzryvchatku,” I commanded as I turned in a full circle, ensuring our work inside had been completed.
Ignite the explosives.
After tossing the muscle to the floor, I wiped his blood on my pants, returning my knife to the sheath. I trailed behind as the other soldiers left. As quiet enveloped the building, I walked into the center of the carnage, glaring down at their lifeless bodies. Laughing, I walked out, listening to the rustle of the soft breeze and the tinkling of music in the background.
And a bad feeling swept through me.
As I moved away from the building, two sounds captured my attention.
Heavy footsteps racing toward me and something else.
A child’s laughter.
What the fuck?
Vissarian lunged from the darkness.
“What the fuck is going on? There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here,” I snarled.
“A birthday party up front.” My cousin was out of breath.
I listened for the laughter again, my nerves on edge. Fuck me. “Get them out of here.” The explosives were concentrated on the buildings at the back of the property, but we’d used enough firepower to create fireworks seen from the heart of the Las Vegas Strip, the decision meant to send a clear warning.
As Vissarian gathered a few additional soldiers, I heard the laughter again.
“Wait. Something is wrong.” I turned in a full circle.
“Whoa. Whoa!” one of our men called. “The place is wired.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sergio bellowed.
“Not our explosives. All the people up front are in the target zone.” The soldier was out of breath.
Other screams penetrated the night as popping sounds began to occur. What the fuck?
“Those people were brought here to die,” I growled. “Get them out of here. Get them out of here!”
Soldiers ran in every direction.
“We need to get out of here,” Sergio snarled.
Laughter. No, a giggle. From a fucking child.
“Thirty seconds!” one of our soldiers called.
Fuck.
A flash grabbed my attention, a woman screaming and flailing as Vissarian caught her around the waist.
“Mommy!” A strangled sob came from behind me, the voice so tiny I almost didn’t hear her in the commotion.
I spun in a circle, straining to see what the woman was squawking about.
“No. No!” she cried, struggling to get away.
“You need to leave. Now,” I barked.
“No. My baby girl. My baby girl!”
“Get her out of here,” I yelled, immediately rushing toward where she was pointing. I’d done some horrible things, but killing either a woman or child would never happen. Not as long as I was alive.
“It’s going to blow,” Sergio yelled, trying to stop me. “We can’t stop this.”
An unknown man appeared out of nowhere, his expression one of horror. He wasn’t an enemy soldier, but one of the guests. “No, this can’t happen.”
“Whoever the fuck you are, get the hell back,” I instructed, leveling the gun in his direction. “Take him.”
“You don’t understand. That’s my daughter!” he yelled, struggling even though there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d get free. Something didn’t feel right about this.
Two soldiers grabbed his arms, pulling him backward. There was a chance he was nothing but a ploy, a counterattack in the works.
I took a deep breath, calculating the time I had left as I scanned the entire area.
“Listen to me, Mikhail. We need to get the fuck out of here,” Sergio told me. “We can’t save them all.”
Pop! Pop!
Boom!
“Not if there’s a child. I won’t be a baby killer. Not today. Not any day.”
The crackle of explosives popped from all directions.
Another sound. The man was still yelling. “Shut him up!” I took a few steps toward the building housing the bodies, another flash catching my attention. There she was. Fuck. The child giggled as she ran, her long hair floating behind her in a long, dark trail.
There was no time left, the imaginary ticking of the bombs echoing in my mind. She turned and stopped, her face registering horror that some big, bad wolf was hunting her in the darkness. Her little mouth twisted as she yelled for her mommy. I could see the tears glistening on her cheeks as I advanced.
“Mommy!”
With only one arm, I scooped her up, racing away from the buildings.
And with every step, I counted down the remaining seconds.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Boom!
The force pitched us forward by several feet, slamming us into the ground. Anguish tore through me like white-hot lightning, the horrible echo of the blast ringing in my ears. Yet I could hear her crying, her little body molded so tightly against mine.
All time seemed to stop, the air around me sucked into a vacuum. Suddenly, the pain vanished and I was cold. So cold.
Muffled voices called from behind, footsteps vibrating the earth.
Her crying continued.
She was alive. Thank God, the little girl was alive.
I rolled over, protecting every inch of the girl as the blast tossed scraps of building material and metal against my back. I refused to move, holding the little girl while she wailed and squirmed.
At least she was alive.
As the roar died down, soldiers rushed closer and I could hear the mother’s sharp cry of thank you.
“You saved her. You saved my little baby.”
Just before I blacked out, I lifted my head, unable to focus.
I rolled over, staring up at the night sky as the little girl was whisked from underneath, the man holding her crouching down. “Thank you, son. Thank you for saving our daughter’s life. If there is anything I can ever do for you, please let me know. I’m indebted. I owe you her life.”
While his face was fuzzy, I memorized his features. After tonight, I would forever be known a monster, yet I hadn’t turned into a child killer. For that, I was grateful.
Just like the man peering down at me, his eyes something I’d never forget.
His identity was unknown, his face unrecognized, but I’d hold the man to his promise. As my father had told me, no good deed ever went unpunished.
CHAPTER 1
Twenty-two years later…
Mikhail
“That should be you, son. This should be your wedding day.” My father’s booming voice held an air of chastisement.
“That would take me finding a bride,” I answered, attempting to hide my disdain.
“You’re not getting any younger and you need to consider your future, not only as Pakhan, but also the importance of producing an heir.”
My father meant to the great Dmitriyev throne. While I was illustrious leader of the Bratva after having brought the family into a new century, he was stuck in the old ways as taught to him by his father and grandfather. Archaic institutions I wanted no part of.
“Go enjoy your daughter’s wedding, Pops.”
“Very well, son, but at some point, you’ll need to heed my words. The Bratva needs your leadership.”
As if by not marrying I was somehow a lesser man. I watched him walk away, noticing my brother was sauntering closer, his grin indicating that he knew exactly what our father had been discussing. When he slid beside me, we both kept our attention drawn to the dance floor where our baby sister was enjoying her moment in the limelight.
“You know how to throw a great wedding reception, brother,” he finally said, as if the subject was any better than the insistence I marry.
