Page 19 of A Bride for the Bodyguard

I cringe at the thought of the inevitable fallout. This whole thing has been such a whirlwind that I still haven’t told anyone except for Melanie.

Jack gently squeezes my hand.

“We don’t have to worry about any of that right now.” For some reason, his reassurance anchors me back from the sea of anxiety threatening to drown me. “Let’s just focus on getting you settled first, alright? We’ll take everything else one step at a time.”

I nod in agreement, his words echoing in my ears - ‘one step at a time.’

Yet despite his reassurances, a sense of unease still lingers like an uninvited guest within me.

Chapter Seven

JACK

Two Weeks Later

The glow from a bank of monitors bathes the room in a ghostly light.

I lean forward, my eyes scanning each screen with practiced precision, searching for anything out of place at Diego’s safe house.

It’s like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles—every shadow could be a threat, every rustle of leaves could spell danger.

“Come on,” I mutter under my breath, rewinding the footage from the camera that covers the back perimeter.

Nothing.

Just the usual flicker of moths drawn to the infrared lights. I switch to another feed, and there it is—a brief flash of movement by the front gate. Could be a cat, could be more. I zoom in, enhance the image. Still, nothing conclusive.

This security system is supposed to be state-of-the-art. But I guess even Fort Knox has its weaknesses. My mind races as I consider the potential vulnerabilities—blind spots in camera coverage, the delay between motion sensors triggering and alarms blaring,

As I’m double-checking window locks, door seals, and panic room integrity, Diego walks in. He holds out a beer towards me—a peace offering or maybe just an attempt to lighten the mood.

“No thanks,” I decline without looking up from my task. “I don’t drink on duty.”

Diego shrugs nonchalantly and sinks into one of the nearby chairs with his own bottle. “Any luck?” he asks after taking a long gulp.

“None yet.”

“This whole thing... it’s like something out of a spy novel,” Diego finally breaks the silence again, his tone laced with confusion and frustration. “I was sure it had to be someone from our own security team.”

He’s right—it doesn’t add up, none of it does—but there’s no sense in dwelling on what we can’t understand right now.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” I advise him while finishing my checks—all clear for now. “We’ll figure this out.”

A sudden creak of the door has us both turning our heads.

Instantly, I whip out my gun, aiming it towards the unexpected interruption.

A man with thinning hair, dressed in a blue beach shirt and khaki pants, saunters into the room. Then he freezes as he takes in the sight of cold steel pointed his way.

“Easy there, Jack,” Diego says as his expression relaxes. “It’s just George.”

“Who the fuck is George?” I keep my weapon trained on the intruder.

The man raises his hands in surrender before answering. “The landlord,” he squeaks out.

Jesus Christ.

My gaze remains locked onto him as I slowly lower my weapon. But something doesn’t sit right with me. “Landlords aren’t supposed to barge in unannounced.”

---