Broken by His Hand - Piper Stone Page 0,60

been given.

I considered this a break in reality, time taken that I would not ordinarily do. Why not celebrate life? “New York.”

She slowly turned her head before gazing down at her attire. While she looked exquisite in the form-fitting black dress, I gathered she was embarrassed by what she was wearing. A part of me wanted nothing more than to shower her with gifts, providing her with the best that money could purchase, but she wasn’t that kind of woman.

Simple.

Beautiful.

Unassuming.

Those were some of her best traits.

“I brought jeans and tee shirts. You didn’t tell me anything before we left,” she muttered, finally bringing the flute to her lips.

“That’s because time was of the essence.”

“Someone is out to kill you.”

I took my time gazing out the window. The clouds were thick, the ride slightly bumpy as we went through various bands of weather. The pilot had been furious, his face beet red as I’d issued my instructions. While I knew I’d crossed a line like never before, the man was paid very well for his cooperation and silence and would continue.

Or else.

I could have instructed him to go to several posh locations in the world, my father’s empire including partial ownership in resorts as well as other private destinations; New York seemed fitting. Exciting. There was also an opportunity to share other aspects of my life with Sophia. The darkness. The hunger.

My sadistic needs.

While coordination had taken more time than I’d felt necessary, we would arrive in time to enjoy a nice dinner and a bottle of wine.

Perhaps more.

What I remained uncertain of was whether I could trust her. Trust was the most important aspect of any relationship, whether living a D/s lifestyle or accepting a business relationship. My gut told me that she was an innocent dove, a special flower ready to open up to her constant cravings, but I couldn’t be certain. However, my instincts were never wrong. It was time to begin testing her.

“Yes, Sophia. You evidently learned about the club through an outside source, so you are aware that there are powerful men within the club. What you don’t know is that my father and my grandfather kept ledgers of certain... indiscretions of various members.”

She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “So what I heard is true.”

A rush of anger swelled within me. “What do you know and who told you?”

“A friend who’s lived in DC for longer than I have. Evidently, your family and the club have been in the news over the years, rumors of a powerhouse ready to explode with rage over information gathered for two generations. Then the momentum stopped with the death of your parents.”

I lifted my glass. “Nicely done. Whoever this friend is obviously has his or her sources.”

“She does because she is a reporter.”

While I was keenly aware of various reports over the years, the most vicious lies told around my father’s death that had led to the FBI investigation, I hadn’t been prepared to champion my family’s legacy. Legacy. Jesus. Now I was using the word as if it was a rite of passage.

“I’m certain that whatever you were told has a percentage of truth layered in the bullshit. What you don’t know is that times were different in the bowels of the capital city of the United States decades ago. Only the men who held knowledge and leverage over others succeeded. My father and grandfather refused to be left on the sidelines. However, they never used that information to hurt anyone considered an innocent bystander. Only those who were heinous criminals or men about to alter the course of the politics or financial institutions were outed.”

“So, that means you are one noble man, your brothers as well. Congratulations. How does it feel to be an honorable man who will likely wind up with a bullet in his brain at some point in his life? Do you really want to live your life that way, Michael? Always looking over your shoulder? Always fearful for those you might give a damn about?”

Her questions burned within. At the moment, not only did I not have the answers, I had no desire to think about them. “Come here.”

She gave me a heated look, shaking her head and sipping her champagne.

“Do not fight me, Sophia. You belong to me.”

“Because I am your captive.”

Taking a deep breath, I simply gazed into her eyes, searching for the sweet and beautiful soul who’d broken down my barriers. When she blinked, those same eyes glistening, I could tell