Home > Unruly Protector (Cocky Hero Club)

Unruly Protector (Cocky Hero Club)
Author: Esther E. Schmidt

 

CHAPTER ONE

 


Be your asshole self

— Clemente —

I’m a businessman. It’s a business deal. Plain and simple. We will set rules, have open communication lines, and map out a plan. This will allow us to move forward together without any misunderstandings.

Simple.

Easy.

Then why the hell are my nerve endings triggered? I pull at the cuffs of my white dress-shirt, and stretch my neck from left to right, rolling my shoulders right after. This is merely a business deal, I remind myself. An arranged marriage. It’s basically a different label for a business deal between two people, that’s all. I knew what I agreed to when I took the deal to make a cartel back off and regain peace to keep my sister safe.

I knew it was coming. I had to get married at some point in my life. It’s common in my world; the mafia world. My uncle greedily arranged everything for me when I called him to make sure the cartel situation was handled. The ‘get married’ part was his counter deal. I’m head of the Famiglia, and he was right to throw this part into the deal since it’s about time I took a wife.

But I guess the whole “it’s just a business deal” statement I use to lie to myself is only now hitting me full force, making me aware it’s not a mere deal; it’s a life-changing alteration. Some woman I have never met—or haven’t so much as had one conversation with—is going to be my wife.

Fuck, yes, I’m nervous. Not about the fact I would be linked to someone unattractive, since they call her “the beauty of Italy,” it’s more about the fact that I am not an easy man to be around, let alone live with. And I’m not looking forward to comforting a woman, holding her hand, and wiping away tears. It’s not who I am, and for sure as fuck never will be.

And then there’s the load of responsibilities and issues I deal with on a daily basis. Issues involving life, death, blood on the streets, or the peace in my territory that greedy hands want, no matter the cost.

This unknown woman is now unwillingly linked to all of this as well. Arranged marriages are a normality in my world. Another normality is the fact the women have no choice in who they are wed to. Though this woman, my future wife, has been brought up in this world knowing her duties and the expectations along with it.

And as I mentioned, I have enough on my plate to deal with without being distracted by a woman who hates me, and who will fight me on every turn. Though, maybe it will be a nice distraction to take her on our wedding night since I’m all for a challenge and domination. But I also hate the fact that I know nothing about this woman since my uncle set it up.

Shit. Here my mind thinks I’ll have a feisty woman on my hands while she could very well be a wilting flower for all I know. Damn. I sure hope not. A soft hand touches my arm, ripping me from my internal debate swirling with my concerns.

“Stop fidgeting. Just be nice and try not to be an asshole.” My sister, Gracy, raises her eyebrow as if she needs me to agree with her in an effort to keep me in line.

Fat chance. But truth be told, I did ask her to come with me for comfort. Though, it was supposed to be comfort for the woman who we are picking up from the airport. My fiancée. Better yet, the reason I asked Gracy to go to the airport was so my future wife didn’t have to ride to my house alone in the limo.

That’s correct, it wasn’t my intention to pick her up myself. It’s for this reason I promise Gracy, “I’ll try. No guarantees.”

Eddie, Gracy’s boyfriend, and president of the motorcycle club Unruly Defenders, snickers. “Be your asshole self, Clemente. This woman will live with you twenty-four-seven, she’s bound to find out the asshole side of you sooner or later.”

“Asshole,” I grumble.

Eddie snickers again. “I’m not denying it, and neither should you.”

“Behave,” Gracy snaps, bouncing her head between the both of us before she adds, “Here they come.”

“They?” I grunt, and follow her line of sight.

I should have known my future wife wouldn’t be traveling by herself, but to let her travel with a dude who looks like a damn playboy is unleashing anger inside my veins. It spikes to another level when he places his hand on the woman’s lower back as if they have an intimate relationship.

My gaze shifts to the woman’s face and she captures me with her unusual blue eyes. The distance between us doesn’t diminish the intensity of the blue swirling in those tiny circles. She instantly takes a step aside to create distance between her and the man guiding her to me. The welcoming smile she gives me isn’t a fake one. And if it is, she’s a damn good liar.

Great, now I’m even more pissed.

Our eyes stay locked until she’s standing right in front of me. She gives me one hell of a warm smile until her gorgeous eyes drop to the floor and she bows her head submissively.

“Clemente Dimentello. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” Her voice is like the shiny side of gold, enriched with the burst of light as if it’s bouncing off a diamond.

Such class. Such delicacy. And such control to wrap the receiver tightly in a blanket to bind him to her. And I have to admit, I am willingly letting her wrap me into her cocoon of captivating beauty. Though I keep my eyes wide open and my heart as closed as ever.

I take her hand in mine and raise it to my lips to brush a light kiss over her knuckles. “Caterina Rosellinno, the pleasure is all mine.”

I keep my voice in the same dominating rumble I always use and address her escort, who is now standing behind Caterina.

“Your job to deliver her is done,” I say to dismiss him, and head for the limo.

But the annoying man—along with Caterina who is still rooted to the ground—prevents me when he states, “I am her personal guard and will be here until the wedding has taken place.”

“The fuck you will,” I growl low in the back of my throat.

Caterina leans in close. Her scent assaults my nose and I inhale deep to familiarize myself with her presence. A fresh and bold mixture of jasmine, rose, and a hint of oriental woody fragrance ignites a feeling which instantly settles and makes my cock hard.

“Mattia is like a brother to me. We grew up together and he respects the Famiglia traditions. He has never touched me inappropriately nor does he act on any other feelings toward me other than sisterly concerns. I, on the other hand, have been raised for this moment and would like for my future husband to respect my words and trust. Allow me my personal guard in this new and unfamiliar transition. Please, Clemente.” Her voice is pleading and I don’t know how, but she’s put an angle of dominance in there for persuasion, and she does it flawlessly.

And then there’s the hint of Italian accent she curls her words with while it was void in her previous words. As if she added it to sound sexy, enthralling, more...fuck. She’s doing it to throw me off focus. This woman is dangerously aware of her abilities.

As usual I’m always up for a challenge and like to assess my opponent before I take action. Meaning I will grant her this, but she’s going to become aware very damn soon I am not one to be played with. Besides, if I allow this fucker to stay here, I can kill him in front of her to show what kind of man she’s set to marry.

I wrap my fingers around her bare nape. A few hairs have fallen loose from the tight bun she’s pulled her perfectly highlighted dark brown hair into. They brush the back of my hand as I pull her close. My body jolts with awareness of her soft skin and suddenly all the concerns I had about my future wife being a wilting flower diminish, leaving only excitement for this intriguing enigma.

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