Guarding The Bratty Mafia Heiress

COOPER

Her teasing makes my cock twitch. One look at Vittoria's picture during the briefing at the office a few days ago made it clear this assignment was going to be trouble.

The way her full lips curled in annoyance, told me she is the kind of girl who would derail a man without even meaning to.

Those dark, fiery eyes practically beg, Come tame me, Daddy.And I hate that my brain even goes there. I should have requested a reassignment, but I didn't maybe it's because some stupid part of me wants to prove I can resist her.

"Princess, we're here." I watch her sleepy eyes widen in horror as she takes in the property.

"God, what is that smell?" she says, pinching her nose.

"That is cow dung, princess. Welcome to Texas."

I keep my voice neutral, but the smirk on my face gives me away. This is going to be blockbuster worthy entertainment.

"Nope, I can't do this. Turn the car around right now!" She lunges for the steering wheel, and for a second, I swear she might actually try jumping out of the moving vehicle.

I shove her hands away, the girl has no sense of danger. "I signed a contract to keep you safe, and I promised your mom I would protect you, especially from your own stupidity."

"My mother doesn't understand what she's putting me through," she snaps, crossing her arms. "This is punishment."

Your mother is terrified, I want to say. She thinks she might lose you the way I lost, nope not going there.

"Your mother understands perfectly well. Someone wants you dead, remember?" I kill the engine. "Now get out."

She sighs dramatically, before stepping out, her hips swaying in that infuriating way she probably doesn't even realize she is doing. I round the car and grab my stuff.

I clear, my throat. "Your bags? No one here is your personal assistant."

She turns raising an eyebrow. "Cooper, what are your big muscles for? Put them to work." Then she struts inside, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

I haul them up the gravel path, sweat forming despite the cool air. Who the hell travels with this much stuff for approximately two months of hiding?

"Our maids live in better houses than this dump," she gestures around the living room, with enough disgust written all over her face.

I take a quick look at the decor it isn't villa quality but it's more than decent.

"This isn't a vacation. A flashy house, more your style, defeats the point of laying low." I drop her bags by the stairs, my patience thinning

"At least tell me there's a pool, please."

"Sorry to disappoint princess, no pool. There is a treehouse built by the previous owners."

She narrows her eyes. "Was that a joke? Do I look eight to you, Mr. Robot?"

"You certainly act like a spoiled little girl who needs disciplining." And I instantly regret it, because she licks her lips. Making my pulse skips, fck.

"Careful, Cooper. You might actually have to follow through on that threat."

"Oh, you poor thing," I say dryly, trying to hide my arousal. "You will survive in a four bedroom crib most people would kill to stay in."

"Is this how you treated your ex boyfriends, or am I getting special treatment?"

"I gotta clarify, we're not dating."

"Exactly. I wouldn't date someone like you anyway. You definitely have bipolar disorder or something."

I freeze, shoving my shaking hands into my pockets. My fingers brush the six familiar sides of the die I always carry, keeping the memories from crawling back.

"Go unpack," I say tightly. "Then come down and help make dinner." I walk off before she sees how deep those careless words cut.

I bring in the remaining bags and throw myself into work installing security alarms, checking the perimeter, and changing every lock.

The physical labor helps, it always does. I stock the pantry that by the time I finish, the tremor in my hands eases.

I'm pouring a protein shake into a glass when a crash sounds upstairs, something heavy smashing to the floor, followed by a stream of curses. My instincts kick in instantly.

"Vittoria?" I call, quickly rushing up the stairs. "You okay up there?"

No response, my chest tighten. I push open the bedroom door and freeze.

Vittoria stands in the middle of the room wearing a short, baggy shirt. Sht. She sure has a sexy body. I force the thought away. This kid is an assignment, nothing more.

"How hard did you hit your head?"

"I'm fine." She tries to shove me off, staggering a little.

"You're bleeding. Sit down before you pass out."

"I said I'm fine, Cooper. Stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

"Fcking sit brat." I gently guide her to the bed, my hands brushing her warm skin. "Let me see."

She drops her hand, revealing a small gash along her hairline, blood trickling down her temple.

"What happened?" I ask, keeping my voice steady.

"I tried to reach the top shelf, stood on a piece of luggage, and fell."

"Why didn't you just ask for help?"

"Because I'm not some helpless damsel, despite what you think."

"Asking for help isn't weakness, it's common sense. You could have broken your neck."

"But I didn't. I just scraped my head a little."

"That's more than a scrape, you need stitches."

Her eyes widen. "Cooper no fcking way, take me to a hospital."

"The nearest one is forty minutes away, and we're supposed to be invisible, remember?"

She looks at me uncertainly, then nods. "Fine. But if you scar me, I'm suing your agency."

"Don't move an inch," I say, already moving for the first aid kit.

This is what I hate about my profession, you have to use your essential skills to cater to the whims of the wealthy.