Page 1 of Finding My Bodyguard

Prologue

Monroe Iris

“Where’s the ring?” I spoke loud enough to be heard over the chatter of my father and his business associates. This was not at all how I expected this to go. I knew my fate was to be married off to strengthen my father's mafia but I thought it would at least be romantic. I thought my future husband would at least present me with a ring and maybe a few gifts. This was anything but.

Kashus, my now fiancé, wasn’t even here. His dad, Marco, had asked for my hand in marriage for his son and continued talking to my father as if I wasn’t in the room. As if I wasn’t the one being affected by this arrangement. It was causing my skin to boil.

“She wants a ring.” Marco laughed in his thick Italian accent, causing everyone in the room to join him. My head cocked to the side. I didn’t see what was funny. Proposals were supposed to come with rings. My question was a valid one.

“Kash will take care of that soon. You worry about looking pretty and minding your manners.” My father, Jacob, patted my leg under the table. “You don’t interrupt men while they are speaking.” He whispered the last part, causing my eyes to roll. It was always the same thing with him. Be seen and not heard. Don’t upset the men.

My father carried on as if we lived in the eighteen hundreds. Hell, my whole family did. This was the lifestyle I had been born into. There was no room for women to think or speak in the mafia. We had a specific purpose—to be wives, take care of the home, and produce heirs. I was ready to leave my father's suffocating house, even if it meant moving in with a stranger. I had been researching Kashus and his family since I discovered he would be my husband. They were a part of a crime family from Valdosta, Georgia.

Kashus was Marco’s only son, and he was mixed. Marco had broken tradition and reproduced with a black woman. The decision had weakened their status in the business, and now they were trying to gain respect in my father's all-black mafia. Marco had been married to Kashus's mom for a few years before she died. A marriage bonded by love was something I’d never witnessed. My mother and father were arranged and had eventually learned to love each other. That was different.

On social media, there were pictures of Marco Grant and his wife, Tammie Grant. They looked happy, and I hoped their love meant they’d raised their son to value and respect women a little more than my father did.

“Sorry, I’m late.” A deep baritone caused me to turn on my heels. My eyes bulged as who I assumed to be Kashus Grant entered the room.

“Damn,” I whispered loud enough for only me to hear. The pictures I’d seen of him did him no justice. My eyes traveled the length of his body. He was gorgeous—probably the most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. He was tall and stocky. His yellow highlighter colored skin coated his chiseled body like a work of art. His dreads were freshly retwisted and pulled into a man bun. There was no way he didn’t get attention everywhere he went. He was so pretty but in a street sort of way. The man looked like he had the type of dick that made women lose their minds.

“You’re always late, Kash.” His father scoffed.

“I’m always handling business.” He walked further into the room. I stared at him. The man even walked sexy. If this was going to be my husband, I was a lucky girl.

“Where’s the woman you bought me?” His eyes traveled to me.

My breath hitched at his statement. Bought was such an ugly word to describe this arrangement, but I guessed it was technically what they’d done.

“Kashus, don’t start your bullshit.” Marco grunted.

Kashus waved his hand to dismiss him. My eyes darted between the father and son pair. They looked nothing alike. There was no doubt that Kashus had to favor his mother.

“You put me in this bullshit, Marco.” Kashus spat back. He was bold, and I was smitten. He moved to me. I was the only woman in the room, besides the server, so it had to be obvious who I was. Besides, I was sure he’d seen pictures of me.

“Are you my soon-to-be wife?” His tongue swiped over his lips, and my insides heated. I nodded. I was too turned on to speak.

“I’m Kashus, but everybody calls me Kash.” He approached me, extending his hand. I glanced up at him. His body towered over me from where I sat at the table, but he wasn’t much taller than me. At five-ten, I probably came to his chest.

“Monroe Iris.” I extended my hand. He didn’t waste any time kissing it. His gaze was on me intensely, but I couldn’t read him. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Nice to meet you, Monroe.”

He let go of my hand and walked to his seat, which was located directly across from mine. His eyes found me once more. His tongue grazed over his thick, juicy lips before he looked away. That was it? That was all he was going to say to me?

“That’s it? Where’s my ring?” I voiced my concern, causing everyone to turn to me. Without hesitation, Kash reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and slapped it on the table.

“My bad, ma.” His voice was nonchalant as he slid the paper over to me. “Here go a blank check. Knock yo’self out.”

He had to be kidding me. My eyes shot to my father. I waited for him to correct the disrespect, but he didn’t. Glaring across the table at Kashus, I tried my best to gain my composure and remain ladylike, but this light bright negro had me fucked up. I slapped my hand down and attempted to slide the check back across the table but was stopped by my father.

“How about you go grab a few of your things, Monroe? Us men need to discuss business.” My father picked the check up off the table and placed it in his wallet before he dismissed me.

Rolling my eyes, I stood from the table. I wanted to say something. The more I thought about it, the more I didn’t want to risk turning off my new family. I didn’t know if I would get another proposal offer. My dark skin and the few extra pounds I carried had made it hard for my father to find an appropriate husband for me. Kashus Grant was possibly my last chance.

“I will have this check deposited into your account, and you can get whatever ring you wish.”

I stared at my father. He didn’t get it, and nobody in the room understood the significance of the wedding ring. Glancing around the room, I took in my audience of rich, powerful men. It was no use in fighting. I knew it would only end in me draining my energy. I needed to save that for my arrogant new fiancé.