Page 22 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss

Chapter fiftee n

Valentino

T he microphone is heavy in my hand. Sweat beads across my forehead, drips down my back as I stare at my family and the close friends of the Benettis.

We are crammed into the backyard, the hard decking over the pool turned into a dance hall.

It’s gorgeous. You’d never think I had this place torn apart twelve hours ago.

It’s my time to give a speech.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining us at our ancestral home as we add another beautiful person to our family. Can we get another round of applause for Junelle?” I pause, letting the attention move back to the bride so I can take a calming breath.

My gaze flicks just to my right where Cheyenne sits in her stunning plum dress.

Elation plays at my heartstrings when she smiles at me.

“I won’t give a long speech, I know the staff have prepared a good meal for us.

Andrea, you’ve grown into a man right before my eyes, but you’re still just the little boy who used to make me pinky promise on everything we made.

It didn’t matter if it was to have ice cream after dinner or to come home after work, you wouldn’t leave my side without that promise. ”

I walk around the head table to my nephew, my heir, to the man I raised with all the love I could as a man stricken with grief and rage. He’s already leaning forward when I get to him. Tears slip down his cheek as I hook my pinky around his.

“I promise that all the Benetti here and in our hearts are so proud of the man you’ve become. Promise me you’ll spend the rest of your life showing Junelle what a good man you are?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, hand shaking, before he stands and hugs me over the table. “Thank you, Uncle Tino.”

“Love you, kid.” My voice is harsh with how much I’m holding back tears.

I hug Junelle next, and the waterworks just come out of me. The tears start falling, and I don’t give two shits. I’ve got to be the luckiest fucking man in the world. My family is the most beautiful creation. Perfect even when we’re messy .

I sniffle hard once I’m standing back enough to see everyone again. “Now, let’s eat!”

Waitstaff appear in the blink of an eye, setting plates in front of everyone at the head table.

I pull Cheyenne’s seat closer to mine when I sit down.

She hands me a tissue as she dabs her eyes.

The makeup team really did a masterclass amount of work to cover up the bruising on her neck.

I kiss her forehead. She won’t ever need to cover up again.

“That was a lovely speech,” she says, her voice still a little too broken for my liking.

I pass her a glass of ice water. She’s not exactly pleased I said we weren’t drinking tonight, but I promised to make it up to her later.

“You should have seen him in Jamaica,” Ugo laughs, taking a slurp from his wineglass. “Never thought he’d stop crying.”

Cristina slaps his shoulder. “Don’t be a dick, or we’ll make your wedding worse.”

“Psh, who says I want all this?” He rolls his eyes. Ugo has just turned thirty, he’s got his whole life ahead of him, yet he’s got it in his head he doesn’t have a mate. A defence mechanism if I’ve ever seen one. We’ve all got our crazy vices. His future mate won’t see those as red flags, though.

Like Cheyenne has, she’s seen me at my most feral yet. She still wants me, craves to be near me, even after everything she saw this morning.

“You don’t have to have this exactly,” Cheyenne says. “I don’t want this exactly. It’s a whole societal construct to control women. As if a piece of paper will speak louder than my or my partner’s actions?”

“Oh, no, I want the whole thing.” Cristina puts her elbows on the table as a wistful look appears on her features. “Swept off my feet, the dress, the vows. If my mate doesn’t sob like a baby while my dad walks me down the aisle, I don’t want ’em.”

Conversation carries on. I ask about her father, who retired from the life a while back and is living in the middle of the woods.

Like always, this starts Cristina off on a tirade of complaints.

It allows my thoughts to drift to what Cheyenne said.

She wants a partner whose actions will speak louder than words.

While I feel like I have proven that about myself, if I had to guess, it’s about sustained actions.

I can do that.

Step one is dancing with my mate as promised.

As the DJ begins to play, I hold out my hand for Cheyenne. Her hand is warm, firmly grasping mine as I guide us through the small crowd to the dance floor. Junelle winks at her as we pass by. I imagine she’s blushing under all that makeup if what I’m feeling is an indicator.

There is nothing particularly special about this dance. The music is slow, so we mostly sway in lazy steps around the edge of the dance floor. Cheyenne holds me tight, her fingers curling around the hair at the base of my neck as my hand flexes around the voluptuous curve of her waist.

She tenses for a moment, but then she looks at me.

Her soft eyes glisten under the lights. I see our whole future mapped out in them.

The love that’s already growing between us flourishing back home.

The push and pull of my lifestyle feeding into her writing.

I want to be her muse, the man she turns to when she needs inspiration.

Whatever she needs from me for her to succeed, I’ll give it to her.

“You’re thinking very hard,” she whispers as the song fades into another.

“Move in with me,” I say. “You can do whatever you want but let me come home to you every day.”

“You really wanna see all my dirty secrets, don’t you?”

I crack a smile as heat flares in my chest. “You’re my dirty girl, aren’t you?”

Cheyenne laughs, loud and full of life. There isn’t a care in the world behind that noise. She is utterly, completely content.

“Are we going to share an office?” she asks. “I need somewhere to display all my spicy art.”

“You can hang up any art you want, baby,” I promise, leaning down to her ear so only she can make out what I’m saying. “I’m sure I’ll be able to help with your creative process.”

I kiss across her jaw, carefully on her neck. Her breath hitches, her fingers tightening on my neck as we slow to a stop. My dick is half hard, pressing against my trousers as we stare at each other.

“What if I’m feeling inspired right now?”

Her breath ghosts across my cheek and sends a chill right down my spine.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking I’d like a do-over of our first time,” she says softly. “I want to experience those feelings again with the knowledge I now have, how you envisioned it happening.”

The wolf side of me is practically panting at the opportunity.

“My dirty girl wants me to claim her good, doesn’t she?”

Cheyenne doesn’t say anything, but her arousal pounds through our bond. The rush she feels when I call her mine makes my head spin.

“I’ll give you a head start. Go up to my suite while I say good night,” I say. She turns to leave, but I tug her back to me just as fast. “Not before I get a taste of your pretty mouth.”

Her lips part, and I kiss her long and slow. My hand slides over her bare shoulder, grazing that invisible little scar she already carries. I’m going to make it last tonight, one she’ll see every day, to remind her that she belongs to me.

Just like that first night, I tap her ass as she leaves. I quickly say good night to Andrea and Junelle. We’re still on for breakfast in the morning, but I’m leaving the party earlier than I originally planned.

Marcello catches my eye as I’ve nearly escaped, two small glasses of limoncello in his hands. He comes up quickly, a nervous look in his eyes. I swear I can’t take anymore shit today. Our little vacation turned into a whirlwind of chaos. Why can’t we enjoy the peace for just a moment?

“Hey boss, I need to ask you something.” He doesn’t offer me the other drink, and I’m wondering if he needed the second one for courage.

“If it’s work, it can wait,” I tell him, moving to step around him.

“It’s not bad.” He clears his throat as he steps in front of me. Marcello squares his shoulders, and swallows. “I want to transfer to Tolson. ”

I pause.

“With Luca out of the picture now, you’ll need someone to take over his role.

I’m not asking to be your second. I’m sure that’s Andrea and I’d never want to step on anyone’s toes, but I want to do more with the family.

If you had someone else in mind, maybe they could take my spot here, ya know?

Really teach them what it means to be a part of the Italian mob.

Nonna could really use some young wolves around the villa to keep her busy. ”

I smirk. She’d eat most of our made men alive if she got the chance. She doesn’t do much with the business side of the family these days. I imagine if I asked her to train up some of our younger members, she’d gleefully accept putting them in their place.

“I’ll have the consigliere get your papers sorted when I’m back.”

“Really?” he asks. Marcello really has me questioning if I’m that much of an asshole. I need another tested capo I can trust stateside, why not him? There are a few people I’d be happy to promote, but I like the idea of having them prove themselves first.

“Yes.” I clap him on the shoulder, trying to end the conversation.

“Here, we toast.” He finally offers me the second drink.

“Have a drink for my health,” I chuckle. “I’ve got a mate who needs claiming. ”

I head into the house. The air conditioning hits my heated skin, but it doesn’t do anything to cool the arousal burning inside of me. I take the stairs to the second floor two at a time in a rush to get to Cheyenne.

The door is unlocked.