Controlled: A Dark Mafia Romance

Prologue

“She was so flawed, so perfectly flawed. So perfectly flawed for me.”

—Atticus

Creed

In the world of monsters and men, there were no heroes, only villains. And they were very hungry…

The darkness couldn’t hide the smell of fear or the scent of copper, blood often drenching the trees and foliage. I was surprised how giddy I felt, the need for the hunt more overpowering than usual. I was hungry, my beast already out of control and the prey had yet to be dropped off.

I lifted my head as the vehicle approached, driving over the underbrush, the sound of the tires crunching on the fallen limbs making me lick my dry lips. I shifted from foot to foot, antsier than I’d been in a long time.

“You seem eager tonight,” my older brother Styx said from beside me.

I glanced in his direction as the headlights from what our father called the hunting machine showered the starting point with shimmering light. “The prey did kill five of our soldiers, taking a father from his kids.”

“Yeah, well, there are always bad men in the world of organized crime. What makes this asshole any different?” Styx was disgruntled, in a nasty mood from the last beating he’d received. However, nothing he could say would take away the joy.

“I’m sick of this shit,” Easton said, tossing his bag of weapons down and trying to walk away.

I yanked him back by the collar of his shirt, fisting my hand around his throat. “You know how our father feels about one of us not being here for the beginning.”

“Get off me,” he barked, pitching his fists against my chest. I was only a couple of years older, but I’d grown four inches in the last few months, increasing my bulk by almost twenty-five pounds.

“Father will be here any minute. Shut the fuck up or we’ll be added to the hunt.” Styx was right. Our dear ole dad didn’t take kindly to anyone ignoring the rules, including his own sons. A single infraction usually meant we were beaten. But anything egregious brought the kind of savagery that nightmares were made of.

I would never forget the moment we heard a loud popping sound followed by our father’s footsteps as he’d walked into our study room. He’d looked all three of us in the eyes, saying with no emotion that our mother had left.

It was the moment the three of us knew we had no one to count on but each other.

And our father.

The most dangerous man alive.

The vehicle rolled to a stop, two of our dad’s most trusted men climbing from the old car. They stood in front of the headlights, waiting as the protocol required. It didn’t matter that the trunk was closed. I could still hear the cries of the man picked up earlier in the evening. He’d been warned not to hassle my family or my father’s powerful regime. The fucker had ignored the helpful advice, choosing to take out decent men inside a diner only days before.

I shifted from foot to foot again, more eager than normal to get the hunt going. How many had my brothers and I participated in? How many assholes who’d dared defy us were rotting in their graves?

Within seconds, the air crackled from heightened electricity indicating my father’s approach. He enjoyed the pomp and circumstance almost as much as watching the brutal game via dozens of monitors while perched on his throne.

I grinned as our father approached while Easton was cowering in the shadows. He didn’t understand the need for the hunts, the ritual that had garnered our father his reputation. I relished the experience, learning how to be better than anyone else on the planet. Sadly, my two brothers didn’t feel the same.

As our father threw out his arms in a kinglike move, I found myself tingling all over. Some would say this was wrong, an abomination, that playing judge and jury should be left to the courts or to God. But I knew better. This was exactly what needed to happen in our world.

“A truly glorious night,” our father said, peering up at the heavens as if he was the truest savior of the world.

“Yes, Father,” all three of us chanted in unison while the two soldiers remained still. They knew their places within our father’s regime.

“Let it begin,” he commanded after taking a deep breath.

As required, the two soldiers headed to the trunk, taking their time to unlock it, finally jerking it open. They’d learned that almost as important as the artistry of the kill was the allowing of the utmost anticipation by the participant. As the fucker was dragged from the trunk, the light presented the blood and bruises he’d already received for daring to resist his fate.

The enemy had been stripped bare, buck naked as the day he was born. That’s the only way those who’d been judged should meet their maker.

He was tossed onto the ground, one of the soldiers grabbing the back of his neck with one hand as he reached into his pocket with the other, yanking out a pocketknife. Everything was ceremonial, including slicing through the thick rope binding his wrists together.

I was edgier than normal, perhaps because the man’s son had taunted me at school years before, the kid stupid enough to bully me inside one of the bathrooms. He’d learned his lesson, screaming for his mommy after I’d gotten finished with him. But sadly, the kid wouldn’t be forced to anticipate in the primal event. Even my merciless father had a certain number of scruples.

Once the fucker was freed, he scuttled away like the vermin he was, even going as far as hugging the closest tree. His lips were puffy, one eye swollen shut. As he scanned the area, his chest was rising and falling from his ragged breathing.

My father took a step forward, holding his favorite spear in his hand. Tonight, he looked like a tribal warrior, a truly evil man. “Edward Vallerio, you have been found guilty of performing sins against mankind. For that, you have been handed down the punishment of participating in the hunt.”

He rarely explained why or what the rules were, but I had a sense tonight he was more than eager to toy with the man.

“What the fuck?” Edward managed. “You’re going to die. All of you.”

Even the way my father laughed was threatening to most men. Tonight, he was relishing his power even more than usual. He pointed his spear toward the participant. “Your fate has been selected. However, I am a fair man. You see the woods around you? The forest is thick for ten miles in every direction. But there is a path that can lead to your salvation, granting you parole. If you’re successful in reaching the finish line prior to being caught by one or more of my sons, then you will be set free.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Edward insisted.

There were things that should never be said to my father, including challenging his mental aptitude. I was certain he was going to lose his temper, which wouldn’t bode well for Edward. My father was shaking from rage, the man daring to defy him even having the audacity to laugh at Dad’s discomfort.

I prayed to God the asshole hadn’t ruined the night. We’d been waiting for over three months for a fresh specimen. I would gut the son of a bitch myself if he fucked up the event.

Finally, my father managed to rake his hand through his hair, smiling as if nothing in the world bothered him. That meant he would push us to increase our methods of torture to the highest point.

My favorite.

“You will have a ten-minute head start. In my mind, that’s fair. I suggest you don’t waste the valuable time.” He pointed toward the darkest part of the forest, staring Edward in his eyes.

“Don’t waste time,” Styx finally commented, mimicking our father as if on cue.

“You’re all fucking crazy,” Edward retorted as he wiped blood from his mouth. After he glanced at all of us, his expression changing to a pleading look when he turned his head toward our soldiers, he finally got the picture. The dumb fuck. It had taken him long enough. He finally took off running.

Our father pounded his chest, yelling like Tarzan. “Don’t let me down, boys. Make it painful and bloody.”

“Yes, sir,” we answered, watching as he turned toward the Jeep that had brought him to the starting line. As he climbed inside, he issued a battle cry, which we answered in kind. Only I also threw my head back and howled like a wolf.

Tonight would be the greatest testament of our faith and our abilities, a test to see if we were prepared for our illustrious futures. As the clock ticked down, my brothers and I communicated with our eyes. Very soon, all of this would belong to us.

I was far too eager as I pulled my favorite weapons into my hands, sliding several into my pockets, placing the gun into the holster, my least favorite but sometimes necessary. Then I lifted my beloved machete, the specs of blood from the last hunt remaining.

“It’s time,” Easton growled, finally feeling the excitement. As the two of them took off running, I waited just long enough to issue my favorite statement.

“Beware, little prey. The big bad wolves will find you.”