His Dangerous Duty (14 Days of Love and Lust Bikers & Mobsters)

Chapter 1

Giovanna

Basically, I had no rights.

A beautiful oriental rug was under my feet and an ornate crystal chandelier hung above my head.

I was surrounded by luxury. No question I wouldn’t want for another thing, and to many women, they would be fine with such arrangements.

Not me, though. All I wanted was to be respected, treated as an equal and cherished and loved.

The scent of Chianti mixed with leather hung in the air, along with a hint of a masculine cologne. I tried to ignore the latter but couldn’t. I was certain it was his.

I hated myself for liking it even a little.

For many years, I knew this day would come, although I’d prayed every night that it wouldn’t. When I turned eighteen, my mamma had warned me to be prepared. I should have listened to her. But for two years, I didn’t believe her even when she told me the day was nearing.

Foolish me had thought Alessio had forgotten about me and had found someone else to marry. I’d been gravely wrong. There I stood frozen in the center of the beautiful office with mahogany paneled walls as he ogled me in front of my father.

My ears were on fire and my palms were clammy. Blood pumped into my heart like a frightened horse in a rapid gallop to get to safety. I tried to remain composed and unafraid, but it wasn’t easy.

I’d never been so terrified in all my life.

Unsure where to look, I kept my gaze glued to an oil painting framed in gold on the wall.

The detailed Italian countryside made me wish I was home in Sicily, among rolling hills, citrus orchards and olive groves.

Where some families made wine, mine produced the finest olive oil in all of Italy… and in all the world.

I stood tall, with my shoulders back and my chin held high as Alessio walked circles around me as if I was a marble statue and he was considering buying me.

Why was he behaving this way? Making a show of this transaction, because that was what I was, a transaction. Not a woman. Not a human. A means to the end of many wars between our families.

My father had told me it was a done deal. Had he been wrong? Had Alessio changed his mind and was reconsidering the agreement? Would he not marry me, so our feuding families might find peace?

The Italian prince gave nothing away and I feared he’d reject me.

Couldn’t say I would be disappointed or surprised if he changed his mind.

I wasn’t as pretty as other women. Certainly not as beautiful as my younger sister, who I was certain Alessio would prefer more, but she was much too young at only thirteen years old.

I imagined the reason I was here was because he didn’t want to wait any longer to start a family. Why should he? He was in his prime and the heir to his family’s Mafia empire. He needed to secure his position and the only way to do that was by having sons.

Why did he have to be so handsome with that tart expression on his face?

How could I let the dashing Mafia prince get to me so easily?

Was it his confident posture? Or his intoxicating sent? Perhaps it was the fact that he was simply an Italian god and every woman’s dream.

Whatever the reason, I wouldn’t let him know I was melting inside.

He cleared his throat as if preparing to speak, and I stiffened. “What are her talents?” the arrogant man asked in a raspy low voice.

I was about to reply when my father said, “Her talents?”

“Yes, is she accomplished in anything, Signor Amano? I need more than someone to breed with,” He snorted and Lord have mercy, I wanted to slap the snug expression off his stupidly gorgeous face.

Had he no shame, talking about me like I was a horse? Honestly, he could find someone else to breed with because I wasn’t going to allow him anywhere near me.

“Perhaps you should direct your questions to me, Signor Remotti. I’m not mute and I understand English.”

He stopped in front of me and glared. “What are your accomplishments?”

“I sing, play piano and speak four languages.”

“Four languages?” A spark of interest glittered in his brown depths. The whites of his eyes were blinding, turning his irises nearly black as he stared at me as if expecting me to flinch under his scrutiny. Not a chance.

“Did I stutter?” I replied, holding his gaze captive. He should have known I wouldn’t be intimidated. I grew up in a crime family as well. To survive and gain respect in my family, I had to excel at everything.

“Giovanna!” My father gasped and whipped out a handkerchief from his coat pocket to blot the perspiration on his forehead. He wasn’t afraid of the Remottis, per se. He just sweated a lot. “I will beat you at home.”

Alessio raised his hand, making my father stop. “You will do no such thing.”

“She shouldn’t disrespect you and should be punished.”

Great, my father was on Alessio’s side.

“I agree.” He tilted his head and considered me. “But if anyone beats her, it will be me.”

I gulped thickly. Nice job, Gia.

It had always been difficult for me to keep my thoughts to myself. It drove my mother crazy and my father to punish me. But I never regretted speaking my mind.

“But if she apologizes, I may forgive her,” Alessio said in a taunting tone.

“She will. Giovanna, ask for forgiveness,” my father demanded. “Repent.”

I stared at Alessio for a long second. “What do you care if I speak four languages? I’m only here to end the war between our families and give you sons.”

“That didn’t sound like an apology.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Is she always this disobedient?”

“No,” my father replied immediately. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. But a good beating should straighten her out.”

“Or a good fucking,” Alessio whispered so low that I was certain neither of our fathers had heard him. No question he was trying to get a reaction out of me. Of course, I didn’t so much as blink.

But what in the world was wrong with this man? I was stunned. Literally stunned by his bravado in front of our fathers.

“You wish,” I replied in an equally low tone. “You repulse me.”

“Ditto, Principessa.” His hand glided down my bar arm as an equestrian would do to their horse before taking it out for a ride. “She’s very thin.”

“She has a small appetite,” my father said as if embarrassed. “But gaining weight is an easy fix.”

Easy fix? How dare my father talk about me as if there was something wrong with my petite size.

I was more than a little offended. My whole life I’d been teased about being small like it was my fault.

The last thing I needed was for my father and future husband to gang up on me and mercilessly tease me like my former classmates used to do.

Next, Alessio clutched my hips in his hands. “Are you sure she’s fertile?” His hands went to my breasts and cupped them. “Where are they?”

“You vile man! You insult and violate me so casually!” I stepped back and crossed my arms over my chest. “No wonder our families have been feuding for decades!”

“But… Did I violate you?” he asked in an antagonizing tone.

“If you don’t know, then you’re not an intelligent man.” I turned toward my father. “I’m done. Let’s go home.”

“Jesus, Giovanna,” Papà replied through gritted teeth. But Alessio’s father remained silent and let his son deal with me alone. “We’re not leaving unless Mr. Remotti doesn’t want to marry you.”

I gaped, jaw hitting the floor.

“I will never forgive you for this,” I told my father as tears blurred my vision. Instantly, my fight or flight kicked in. “Reject me now so we can end this farce of a meeting.”

Alessio stared into my eyes. “No.”

“No?” I was utterly baffled. “Clearly, we aren’t a good match.”

“How do you know?”

I laughed mockingly. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Did I stutter?” He threw my own words in my face.

“You are the most disrespectful and arrogant man I have ever met.”

“I doubt that.” He snorted and tugged on his collar as if he was getting hot and needed air.

“Why would I want to marry someone as self-centered and domineering as you? Please, I’d rather stay single for the rest of my life.”

My father cursed in Italian, muttering threats to beat me when we returned home. Getting a beating was the least of my worries. I could heal from my injuries and be free.

But being married to Alessio Remotti would be a death sentence.

“Okay, then. We dine at eight.” Alessio turned on his heel and left the study.

“What?” Taken aback, I swooped my gaze at his father. “He wants me to stay?”

“Alessio approves.” Mr. Remotti stood with his hand extended to my father to shake on the deal.

“But I don’t approve,” I cried, wholly stunned at the turn of events.

Why would Alessio want to marry me? I wasn’t up to his standards, not that I knew what his standards were, but still. We were nothing alike and I hated him. Not hate, that was too strong of a word and I never used it. I didn’t like him enough to marry him.

“Enough, Giovanna. You’ve disgraced me enough with your mouth,” my father snapped at me.

“Leave the child alone,” Mr. Remotti said. “She’s spirited and confident. Those are excellent traits.”

“You’re too kind,” Papà replied. “She’s always been a handful.”

I lowered my head in shame. I had been a handful. Stubborn. And mouthy.

“That’s good. We wouldn’t want weak bloodlines. Let’s go have a drink.” Mr. Remotti took my hand. “Stay strong, my dear. The guard will show you to your room.” He kissed the top of my hand and left with my father in tow.

“Follow me,” the guard said. He was standing at the double doors Alessio had gone through when he bolted out.

I nodded and followed him. What else could I do? I didn’t know where anything was in the mansion, which appeared to be larger than my home.

“You heard everything, didn’t you?” I asked the man.

He grunted his reply.

Needing more information about Alessio, I did what I always did, question everything and everyone.

“Is Alessio violent toward women?”

The guard didn’t make a sound.

“Please, I must know so I can be prepared. Will he hurt me? Force himself on me when I don’t want his grubby paws anywhere near me? If you have half a heart, please help me.”

The guard continued up the stairs. His silence made me more scared than before.

A rogue tear rolled down my cheek. I quickly swiped it away before anyone saw me. I never cried in front of anyone, not even my own family.

He stopped at a set of cream double doors with decorative gold flourishing and opened both. “Be on time for dinner.”

“Can you not tell me anything?”

“You’ll be fine. Just stay as you are.” The man avoided making eye contact and left, closing the double doors behind him.

Stay as I am? What does that mean?

Stay stubborn and mouthy? That wouldn’t be difficult, but I prayed I wouldn’t be whipped for it.

Finally acknowledging the room, I covered my mouth with my hands.

There must have been dozens of floral arrangements scattered around the room, and the main flower of each were lilies, my favorite flowers. The grande room was three times bigger than mine at home.

There was a sitting area across from the four-poster bed, and beside it was bookshelves. I loved to read, so I went to check out the books, expecting to find nothing that would interest me. Most rich people only had books to make them appear sophisticated and learned.

I read for pleasure, preferably romance.

My fingers glided across the leather spines, and I inhaled the scent of the very old books. Of course, I’d been right. Nothing… Wait.

My fingers stopped moving when Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen jumped out at me.

“You’ve got to be joking. This couldn’t be real.” Carefully I removed the book, which looked really, really old.

My hands shook as I held the beautiful dark green book, covered in gold peacock feathers. I held my breath as I opened it and saw 1894, First Edition ‘The Peacock Edition.’

My teary eyes went back to the bookshelf, and I found many of my favorites. And not just any old edition, but first editions of every book. Romeno and Juliet. Wuthering Heights. Little Women. The Great Gatsby. A Christmas Carol. Jane Eyre.

I stubbled back and sat down, feeling weak in the knees. There were many other books, but on the shelf right at my eye level were my favorites.

Had someone told them about my love of reading? Not that I’d dare handle those precious beauties. Oh, no. They were to be admired and cherished.

I swallowed my emotions and put the beautiful book back on the shelf. The more I looked around the room, the more it appeared to have been decorated specifically for me.

My favorite colors were everywhere. Warm orange and pink, the colors in a sunset, were in the floral linens, the drapes, and in the paintings hanging on the walls.

On my bedside table was a photo of my white mare, Madonna. The two things I loved most in the world, my horse and books, were in this room.

I should have been nicer to Alessio.

Stupid, foolish girl.

Maybe Alessio and his family weren’t so bad. Maybe I could learn to love Alessio Remotti after all. Maybe marrying the Italian prince could be the best thing to ever happen to me.

With that final thought, I knew what I needed to do. Give Alessio a chance, and show him that I could be a good, obedient wife.