Claimed by El Diablo

Chapter 3: Property of the Club

I woke to the jarring sound of a heavy deadbolt sliding out of place.

I gasped, shooting up from the leather sofa. My body instantly protested, screaming in agony from the awkward sleeping position, the lingering dampness of my clothes, and the sheer terror of the previous night. Morning light, gray and dismal from the lingering storm, filtered through the horizontal blinds of Javier’s office window.

The heavy oak door swung open, and Javier stepped inside.

If he looked intimidating in the dim, chaotic lighting of the bar, he looked downright lethal in the harsh light of day. He wore a fresh black t-shirt, dark denim, and heavy combat boots. A silver chain hung from his belt loop, catching the pale light. In one massive hand, he held two steaming foam cups of coffee; in the other, a black duffel bag.

He kicked the door shut behind him and set the coffees on his mahogany desk. His obsidian eyes swept over me, taking in my disheveled hair, my muddy jeans, and the pale, bruised state of my arms. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but his expression remained completely unreadable.

"Drink," he ordered, nodding toward the desk. "Black, two sugars. You need the caffeine."

I didn't argue. I scrambled off the sofa, my legs stiff, and wrapped my cold hands around the hot cup. The first sip was heaven, sending a jolt of warmth through my shivering frame.

Javier tossed the duffel bag onto the sofa where I had just been sleeping. It landed with a heavy, metallic clink.

"There's a full bathroom through that door," he said, pointing to a frosted glass door I hadn’t noticed last night in the shadows. "Shower. Scrub the mud off. Then put those on."

I stared at the bag. "What is it?"

"Your new skin," Javier replied flatly. "If you walk out into my compound looking like a terrified Catholic schoolgirl, Hector's spies will know it's a sham before noon. An Old Lady of the Kings of Chaos doesn't wear pastel cardigans and practical sneakers."

I bristled, a sudden, foolish spark of anger piercing through my fear. "I'm a nursing student. These clothes are practical. And I don't exactly have a wardrobe for playing a biker's concubine."

Javier closed the distance between us in two massive, terrifying strides. I backed up instinctively, but my spine hit the edge of the desk. He planted his hands on the wood on either side of my hips, trapping me. He leaned down, his face mere inches from mine, his dark cologne wrapping around me like a heavy blanket.

"Don't disrespect the title, Valentina," he warned, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that made my toes curl. "In this club, an Old Lady is royalty. She is protected, she is respected, and she is untouchable. Right now, that title is the only thing keeping your heart beating. So you will wear the clothes, you will play the part, and you will do it convincingly. Understand?"

I swallowed hard, staring into his pitch-black eyes. He was so close I could see the faint stubble on his jaw and the jagged edge of the scar cutting through his eyebrow. My pulse hammered, a confusing mix of absolute terror and an undeniable, forbidden heat.

"I understand," I whispered.

He held my gaze for a second longer, his eyes dropping briefly to my lips before he pushed off the desk. "Rosa is waiting in the bathroom. She'll help you get sorted. You have thirty minutes."

I grabbed the duffel bag and practically fled toward the frosted glass door.

Inside the bathroom which was surprisingly luxurious, all dark slate tile and modern fixtures stood a curvy, beautiful woman with raven-black hair, heavy eyeliner, and arms covered in vibrant, colorful tattoos. She wore tight leather pants and a cropped top that exposed a silver belly ring.

"Hey, honey," she said, offering a warm, sympathetic smile that immediately put me at ease. "I'm Rosa. Mateo's Old Lady. Mateo is the VP here."

"I'm Valentina," I managed, clutching the bag to my chest.

"I know," Rosa said gently, stepping forward to turn on the shower. Steam began to fill the room. "Javier told the inner circle what happened. Look, I know you're terrified. I know this world seems insane. But Javier... he doesn't do things halfway. If he said you're under his protection, you are safe. But you have to let me help you look the part."

I nodded, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. "Okay. What do I do?"

"First, get in the hot water. Scrub the cartel dirt off you," she instructed.

Twenty minutes later, the nursing student was gone.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back. Rosa had dried and styled my dark hair into wild, voluminous waves. She had applied a smoky layer of eyeliner and mascara that made my brown eyes look huge and dangerous, followed by a swipe of deep red lipstick.

But it was the clothes that truly transformed me.

Gone were the sensible jeans and the oversized jacket. From the duffel bag, Rosa had pulled a pair of form-fitting black denim jeans that hugged every curve of my hips and legs. On top, a sheer, tight black lace camisole that left very little to the imagination. She finished the look with a pair of heavy, silver-buckled combat boots that added two inches to my height.

"You look breathtaking," Rosa declared, adjusting the lace on my shoulder. "Javier is going to lose his damn mind."

"I feel exposed," I muttered, tugging self-consciously at the hem of the top.

"That's the point," she grinned wickedly. "You're the President's woman now. You're supposed to look untouchable, expensive, and completely his."

Rosa opened the door, leading me back out into the office.

Javier was sitting at his desk, staring at a ledger. When he heard the door click, he looked up.

Everything in the room seemed to stop. The pen in his hand went completely still. His dark eyes slowly dragged up my body, starting from the heavy boots, lingering on the tight black denim, trailing up to the exposed skin of my chest, and finally resting on my red lips. The air between us crackled, thick and heavy with a palpable, scorching tension.

He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. The possessive fire burning in his eyes made my breath hitch and a foreign, heavy heat pool low in my stomach.

Slowly, Javier stood up. He walked around the desk, his gaze never leaving mine. He reached over to the leather chair where he had tossed his heavy, heavily patched leather President's cut last night. But beneath it was another jacket a beautifully worn, buttery-soft black leather motorcycle jacket.

He stepped up to me. The sheer size of him was overwhelming. He held the jacket open.

"Put it on," he murmured, his voice noticeably thicker than before.

I slipped my arms into the sleeves. It was massive on me, smelling entirely of him cedar, smoke, and danger. The heavy leather fell past my hips, swallowing my frame, a glaring visual symbol of a massive predator marking its territory.

Javier reached out, his knuckles brushing against my collarbone as he adjusted the lapel. I shivered at the contact, the heat of his skin searing through the chill in the room.

"We are going to walk out there," Javier said softly, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw, tilting my face up so I had to look at him. "You will stand by my right side. You will not flinch. You will not look at the ground. You belong to me now, Valentina. Let them see it."

Before I could process the command, his hand slid to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. He leaned in and pressed his lips firmly to my forehead a searing, deeply intimate brand that sent a shockwave straight to my heart.

"Let's go meet the family."

He dropped his hand to the small of my back, guiding me out of the office and into the belly of the beast. The bar area was packed this morning, thick with the smell of breakfast grease and stale beer. The moment Javier opened the door, all eyes turned to us.

I kept my chin high, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I felt the heavy weight of the leather jacket on my shoulders, and the burning heat of the devil's hand on my spine.

I was officially playing a deadly game. And looking at the hardened criminals staring back at me, I realized I had absolutely no idea how to survive it.