The Billionaire’s Stubborn Bride

MY FATHER'S REQUEST

ARCHER

Coming to Milan to marry someone I didn't know was already a crazy idea, but meeting a stunning stranger who looked like a fallen angel was entirely unexpected.

All my well-laid plans disappeared when that angelic beauty kissed like a goddess. The woman in my arms was oblivious to how she looked. When she walked into the bar this evening, every man turned to watch her, captivated by her long, smooth legs, creamy white skin begging to be touched, and slender figure with enchanting golden-brown eyes. But the most astonishing thing about her was her striking red hair, so vibrant it could only be described as ruby red.

I couldn't resist conversing with her as she approached the bar, fidgeting like a homemaker about to meet a secret lover. Surprisingly, she responded and checked me out enough to know she was interested.

I deepened the kiss, and when I raised my hand to cup her firm breast, she shuddered, making me groan. This was completely unexpected; I had never imagined meeting someone like her.

Suddenly, she broke the kiss, flustered, with her lips swollen. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"You..." Whatever I was about to say died in my throat as she rushed to her car and sped away like the devil was chasing her.

I stood there, staring at her disappearing car like a bewildered fool, wondering what had just happened.

I returned to my hotel room, just a few buildings from the bar. My trip to Milan wasn't a pleasure tour or a business visit. I was in Milan for a specific purpose: to find a wife.

With my hands in my pockets, I pondered the morality of what I was about to do. When my father, the formidable Urso Petraki, was battling cancer and asked something of me on his deathbed, I couldn't refuse.

My father had been all I had ever since my mother ran off with the gardener when I was three. He was a good father—strict and disciplined, but loving. He had never asked anything of me before, so when, on his deathbed, he asked me to marry his best friend's daughter, I couldn't say no.

That was six months ago, and it was the last time I saw Aolo Ferretti, my father's best friend. It was shocking when he called a few days ago to remind me of his promise to my father. Before my dad passed away, he sent Ferretti a letter reminding him of the deal between them and asking him to honor it.

Ferretti offered to make me his joint heir to sweeten the deal, sharing the inheritance of the renowned Ferretti fortune. It piqued my interest, but it also made me wonder just how unattractive the daughter must be if she was being married off like this. Would I have to close my eyes when it came time to consummate the marriage?

I sighed as I walked across the reception of the five-star hotel where I was staying. Entering the elevator, I pressed the button for the penthouse suite. I didn't know how long I would be staying there or if I would stay at all; it all depended on meeting the bride.

After freshening up and putting on my pajamas, I climbed into bed and lay down, hands folded behind my head. My thoughts drifted to the stunning woman I met this evening. I closed my eyes and pictured how she looked after our kiss, with swollen lips, dreamy eyes, and heaving breasts as she took deep breaths. I imagined how good she looked in my bed tonight, with her fiery red hair across my white sheets. The thought aroused me.

She had been so responsive; I was sure it would have been incredible between us. I would make her forget all about her ex-boyfriend and their breakup. I groaned as I stroked myself, doing something I hadn't done since I was a horny teenager, all while thinking about the goddess I had just met.

***********************

Walking to my rental car with flowers and a bottle of whiskey in one hand, I noticed a few women checking me out, not all single. I smiled. The valet was already waiting with the car parked. I picked up the keys, tipped him, and opened the door, carefully placing the bouquet and drink on the passenger seat. I entered the address Aolo had sent me and sped off.

Upon arriving at the Ferretti mansion, I was not entirely surprised to see the vast estate and its surroundings. A butler waited by the door, and I nodded in greeting.

"Mr. Ferretti is expecting you," he said, turning for me to follow him. As we walked, I took note of the house, where no expense had been spared in furnishing the Ferretti home. It perfectly blended vintage and modern, old and new, reflecting a family embracing changing times.

The butler knocked on the door of what I assumed was Aolo's study. "Sir, Mr. Petraki is here."

"Let him in," Aolo called from within the room. The butler pushed the door open and stepped back to allow me to enter.

As I strode into the room, Aolo greeted me with a smile. "Archer, it's good to see you." I placed the package I had brought on his desk, and he nodded approvingly at the flowers. I extended my hand for a handshake, which he eagerly accepted.

"Good to see you too, Aolo," I replied. Aolo took a seat and motioned for me to do the same, so I complied. Leaning back, I observed my future father-in-law. Aolo Ferretti had been a good friend to my father, though distance had separated them over the years. He had attended my father's funeral, and I even noticed him discreetly shedding a tear or two.

"Archer. I didn't tell my daughter about her impending marriage to you until last night," he admitted. I raised an eyebrow at this, considering that Aolo had contacted me almost a month ago. He must have seen the questions in my eyes.

"I didn't want her to overthink it. Ruby tends to do that, and I wanted to spare her from that," Aolo explained.

"But will she agree to the marriage?" I inquired, trying not to show my eagerness to escape this commitment.

"No, no," Aolo shook his head. "Ruby is a good girl; she'll do as I say."

My budding excitement withered instantly. Aolo stood up, and I followed suit. I handed him the bottle of whiskey and flowers, and he smiled in thanks.

"Thoughtful of you to bring her flowers. Very thoughtful," Aolo mumbled, almost to himself. I'm spared from having to respond by a knock on the door.