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Guarding The Bratty Mafia Heiress

Guarding The Bratty Mafia Heiress

AGE GAP • FORBIDDEN ROMANCE • BDSM • MAFIA • ENEMIES TO LOVERS "Acting like a spoiled little girl for attention? Then you will be punished like one." The next slap hurts so badly I can hardly breathe. I whimper as my juice drips down my thighs. Jesus, I'm sick. This man just physically hurt me, and here I am, soaking the sheets. "I'm telling Papà to replace you with an enforcer who actually knows how to do his job," I manage to gasp out. "An enforcer like Damon, who will kiss your ass?" This slap echoes through the room. I swallow back a moan that threatens to escape. "A sexy man who isn't the devil incarnate who gets off on hurting people." He spanks me continuously until my skin goes numb. "Fck, oh God!" I cry out as pain and pleasure collide in an overwhelming rush that leaves me trembling. ~~~ What you just read should never have happened with the off limits Vittoria Giordano. After she was nearly shot, I was hired to protect the engaged heiress till the killer was dealt with. Simple enough, until I met her. A spoiled brat who finds every possible way to push my buttons. She laughs when I scold her, provokes me when I ignore her, and kisses me like she is addicted to the taste of my lips. I shouldn't want her. The last time I let someone in, I was left a shell of a man. Now the threat is gone, and my job is over. I should feel relieved. Instead, every time I see her standing beside her fiancé, pretending to be in love, something inside me ignites and burns. And when the danger resurfaces, I don't return as her bodyguard. I return to claim what is mine.
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Chapter 6

VITTORIA "Where is the wine? You don't expect me to eat this without it, do you?" I complain, folding my arms over my ribs with a glare. Cooper gives me a dry look from across the table. "This isn't a romantic dinner, Vittoria. I'm not here to indulge your spoiled whims. Now eat." I stare at the pasta, my traitorous stomach growling loud enough that I'm certain he can hear it. I twirl some onto my fork and shove it into my mouth, bracing for the worst. My eyes widen instead. This has to be the best Puttanesca I have ever tasted the perfect balance of salty, and tangy. "It's too salty," I lie, already going for another yummy bite. The pasta practically melts on my tongue. "With all the drama earlier, I expected it to be delicious." "Judging by how fast you're eating, you could have fooled me." Cooper leans back in his chair, amusement dancing in those infuriating blue eyes. "Next time you lie, try not to contradict yourself with your fork." "Don't flatter yourself into thinking you're some world class chef. It's just hunger," I shoot back, shoving another forkful into my mouth. Cooper's eyes linger on me as he chews slowly. "How is your thumb?" I raise my hand from the pocket of my floral skirt, wiggling my thumb at him. "Bandaged up. All thanks to you, of course." "I see you're still blaming me for your inability to handle a kitchen knife," he says in that mocking tone that makes my blood boil. I point my fork at him accusingly, bits of pasta flying everywhere. "You should be apologizing for endangering my life!" I drop the fork onto the table with a sharp clatter. "You know what? I'm done being bossed around by a fcking Americano." Cooper's eyes glint dangerously. "Let's make something clear, brat. In this house, you will do exactly as I say. If you don't, there will be consequences." My heart pounds at the intensity of his voice, but I force a scoff, even as my pulse quickens. "You wouldn't dare lay a finger on me. I will tell Papà." "Rat me out and see if I care." His voice gets lower. "But while you're here, misbehave and I will deal with you." Heat surges through me as I inch closer, my chair scraping against the floor. "You're forgetting yourself," I snap at the asshole. "You're just a glorified babysitter Papà hired to guard his asset. I won't fall in line like everyone else." Cooper's gaze drops to my lips, and this time I don't waste the chance. I press my mouth to his, pouring every ounce of frustration, anger, and desire into the kiss. His hand shoots out instantly, shoving me in the chest with enough force to send me stumbling back. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice is rough, betraying his arousal despite the rejection. I straighten, forcing confidence I don't fully feel, my lips still tingling from the brief contact. "Stop pretending. You can push me away all you want, but your body wants me." "You should add delusional to your growing list of problems," he mutters, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as if he can erase what just happened. His words again sting more than they should, because men fight to fck me, and yet here I am, practically begging for attention from a confused man who keeps pushing me away. I stand abruptly and walk to my room without another word. Fine. If he wants to keep lying to himself, I will get what I want somewhere else. ~~~ ~Later that night, miles away from the prison and her hot jailer.~ The bar pulses with energy, bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the bass thrumming through my chest. I managed to slip out after Cooper retreated to his room, and the freedom tastes sweeter than any honey. "Two shots of tequila," I call to the bartender over the music, leaning against the sticky bar top. "Make that four." A man slides up beside me, smiling confidently . His dark hair, strong jaw and blue eyes is close enough to Cooper's. "You must be new around here, I would have remembered a pretty face like yours." I hike up my pink lacy gown, letting the hem brush my thighs as I shift to face him. "I guess the excessive booze must have clouded your memory." "Trust me, I would never forget you." He clinks his glass against mine, then downs his tequila in one gulp. I quickly mirror him, relishing the burn as it slides down my throat. "You're right, I'm a tourist, here to enjoy myself." A mischievous grin spreads across his face. "Well, lucky you. You just found the guy who knows how to have a good time. Consider me your tour guide for the night." I sway a little to the music as I take in my surroundings. "Is that your usual line for newbies at hippie bars?" "Only the ones who look like they need a distraction." He signals for another round. "Want to do something wild to make that person disappear from your mind?" I freeze slightly. "What makes you think there's someone?" "You're a beautiful girl, drinking alone, with that look in your eyes?" He nods toward the center of the bar, where a mechanical bull spins wildly, "So tell me gorgeous, you ever tried the bull ride?" I watch the current rider squeal as she falls into the padded pit, her friends cheering from the sidelines. "No fcking way, that looks terrifying." "I can teach you." He extends a hand to me, his smile widening. "Come with me, be brave baby." Maybe it's the tequila or it's just the image of Cooper's face when he pushed me away but I take his hand. First, he mounts the bull then lifts me up so I sit facing him, my legs wrapped around his waist. "Hang on tight, baby," he says, his hot breath tickling my ear as his hands settle on my waist. The bull jolts to life, rocking slowly at first. I grip his thighs for support, feeling the flex of muscle beneath my palms. "See? Not terrifying at all, just let your body go with the flow." The bull picks up speed, bucking and spinning. His grip tightens on my waist, fingers digging into my hips possessively. Oh fck yes, to hell with Cooper and his stupid rules, this is amazing.
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