Broken by His Hand - Piper Stone
Chapter One
Michael
Treachery.
I knew more than a thing or two about the concept, not that it became any easier over time to deal with. I’d been the voice of reason, the brother with a conscience. I’d come to realize that being the caretaker of the heinous secrets contained within the walls of Club Darkness had taken a toll.
Rich. Demanding. Monstrous. The men who frequented the club were some of the most dangerous and powerful people in the world. They’d paid a pretty penny to set foot inside, their yearly dues more than the majority of people made in ten.
My brothers and I were very careful about who we allowed inside our hallowed doors, our background checks more intense than those of the FBI.
Although we’d made a few mistakes, all of which had proven to be costly.
One day, our empire could be toppled.
But not under my watch. And for those who tried? I had no issue eliminating them.
In whatever means necessary.
I’d spent my life protecting Gregory and Christopher, foregoing certain desires and proclivities that some would consider heinous. They were my brothers after all.
Hissing, I turned the steering wheel, moving around a well-lit corner in Georgetown, my gaze drifting to the rearview mirror. For some reason, I was antsy tonight, exhausted from long hours spent at the club.
But a wicked hunger furrowed in my loins, the kind that had been increasing over the last few months. Soon, I would no longer be able to deny my needs.
Neither one of my brothers understood the darkness dwelling deep within me, a brutal beast longing to see the light of day. My father had told me more than once that I was exactly like him, a man who enjoyed inflicting pain. While I’d fought the concept the majority of my life, I’d come to the realization that he’d been right.
Maybe it was time to step out of my comfort zone.
Even my nightmares were tainted with blood, as if my dangerous path would soon catch up to me.
My grip on my cellphone was white-knuckled, my anger close to the edge. While the crown prince was one of the most powerful men in the city, his demands to join the club had become repugnant, pushing me into making decisions that could be regrettable. Yet, I was in no mood for the man’s kind of pressure.
“While I understand your position, Prince Al Amoundi, the rules of the club are imposed for a reason, including privacy for every single one of our members. While I understand your continued desire to join the club, I feel that it wouldn’t be in our mutual best interest for that to happen.” I certainly didn’t owe the asshole any kind of explanation. Members were carefully selected, put through rigorous checks. Besides, I knew what the asshole wanted. Access to congressmen and senators, attempting to forge an illegal union between countries. What a crock of shit. The prince was one of the evilest men I’d ever met.
Yes, business was conducted in the club’s rooms and dark spaces, corporations developed while friendships were tossed aside. I’d been privy to dozens of meetings, gleaning data that would be kept along with other private information. I’d only come close to exposing a member’s secrets twice.
And a part of me wished I’d swung the heavy bat.
I’d have no issue using the dirt I’d discovered on the prince if necessary. Sadly, my guess was that he knew exactly what I could hold over his head.
“You will learn that you are nothing in my world, Michael. I only hope for your sake that it’s not too late.” The prince’s English, perfected by years spent at American schools, pissed me off more than usual.
I chuckled as I glared at the phone, a snarl pushing up from my throat. I refused to allow him to get under my skin.
The bastard hung up on me, but only after cursing in his native language, the threat one I’d heard more than once. I’d become used to the verbal abuse, although there were days in which I craved exacting revenge. I tossed my phone into the passenger seat, turning up the volume on the satellite radio, a smile curling on my lip from the sound of Disturbed. A little heavy metal was in order tonight.
My anger continued to build, the kind of rage that couldn’t be soothed with liquor or a fine cigar.
No one threatened me. Not for any reason. I didn’t give a shit how much power and influence they had or if their money