Page 44 of Finding My Bodyguard

“I always make sense.” He laughed.

“I just don’t want to force her into anything. This is about her more than it's about me.”

“If you say so, nigga. You know I’m riding either way.”

“You got the recording?” I asked. Meechie nodded.

“Sending it to yo’ phone now,” he replied. I smirked. Kashus Grant was easy to catch up. All it took was a few light-skinned big booty strippers to get him on a recording talking foul about Monroe and snorting cocaine up his nose. He planned to get her strung out on drugs after he took over her father's business. I already had plans to fuck him up, but now I was going to put two in his head. You ready to go talk to her pops?” Meechie asked just as the flight attendants opened the door.

“Let's go!” I growled. I had never been afraid to talk to anybody, but this impromptu meeting with Monroe’s dad had me a little bothered. It didn’t have anything to do with him, but I knew after I secured her freedom, she would be free to leave. The thought of Monroe out there in the world without me was scary, but like I said… This wasn’t about me. It was about Monroe and had been since day one.

The Iris estate was exactly how I’d pictured it to be. It reminded me a lot of my childhood home. It was big and flashy with security guards posted all around. It was the life to be had for everyone on the outside looking in, but for people like me and Monroe, it had been our prison. I got out of the car and handed my keys to the valet before walking up the stairs. Meechie was right on the side of me. Before we could reach the front door, we were swarmed by security. We knew the deal. It was a standard greeting for a meeting of this caliber. I threw my hands up, removing the gun that I kept tucked at my waist. Meechie did the same.

“Be careful with her. That’s my baby!” I handed my favorite gun to security. I wasn’t afraid to go in without protection. Jacob Iris wasn’t foolish enough to start a war by taking me and Meechie out. I was certain he didn’t want to spend his last days alive at war with the London Cartel.

“Weapons will be returned to you upon leaving,” one of the guards informed us as he allowed us to enter.

Another man instructed, “Take them to Iris.” We were led down a long hallway. I scanned the walls for pictures or any sign of Monroe’s childhood but found nothing. The walls were bare except for the expensive paintings and art plastered around. The guard led us to the back of the house and into a back room I assumed to be Mr. Iris’s office.

“Sir, your visitors are here.”

“Only Royale enters.” His voice sailed through the air, and the guard put his body between me and the door, blocking Meechie from entering.

“You good with that, Ro?” Meechie shouted over the guard.

I nodded as I stepped further inside the room. Mr. Iris was standing in the window behind his desk. Even from behind, I could tell the toll the cancer was taking on him.

“Royale London.” Mr. Iris greeted me as I entered the room. “I was confused when this meeting was requested, so I did some digging. You kidnapped my daughter and married her without my permission.”

He’d done his research. I wasn’t surprised.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand.” He turned around, gun pointed at my head. I took in his appearance. He looked tired, no doubt, from the cancer. It had to have been months since Monroe had seen her father because if she had seen him like this, she would have known he was sick.

Still, even in his ailing state, he exuded power. He reminded me a lot of my father.

“For the record, I didn’t kidnap her. She came willingly.” I walked over to the chair in front of his desk and sat. His having a gun pointed at me didn’t scare me one bit. Just like him, I had been raised for this. I had my first gun placed in my face at seven. I wasn’t easily intimidated. “Killing me would make your daughter a widow.”

“Huh, I don’t see the problem in that. I kill you, and she goes on to marry Kashus as planned. Problem solved.” He snarled.

“The only problem is you don’t want Kashus to run your business. Your daughter has been missing for a week, and he hasn’t told you anything. He’s been hanging out in strip clubs over him finding your daughter.” I looked him directly in his eyes as I spoke. He didn’t say anything… just kept his pistol on me.

“I know your delicate situation. You need an heir. Monroe can’t be because she’s a woman, and the mafia won’t allow it. Your unborn son is too late. Monroe marrying Kashus is… was your only choice no matter the cost, huh? You wagered her body. Taught her to be a doormat to a bum ass nigga that treats her like nothing.” I could see his hand twitching in anger.

“Many women before her have done it. My mother included,” he replied, causing me to stare at him as if he was insane. This was exactly why I was here to get Monroe away from his ass. His ideologies about women were old and outdated.

“Saying that others have endured is not a good enough reason.”

“My daughter, my business!” he yelled.

“Wrong, my wife, my business.” I smirked. “Look, I’m here as a courtesy. I have taken Monroe as my wife. That means she is now under my protection. You will allow Monroe to live free of her family duties.”

He lowered the gun down, banging the metal against his wooden desk.

“I looked into you—son of Malcom London. I grew up with your father. Our fathers did business together long ago. That’s the only reason why I’ll give grace for your stupidity.” He folded his hands together. “You abandoned your family duties, and now you come here asking for my daughter to do the same.”

“We are supposed to give up our lives—our freedom of choice—because someone decided on this lifestyle long before we existed. Nah!” My voice was laced with anger.

“To whom much is given, much is required. We didn’t get to choose this life, and the sacrifices we have to make for it aren’t pretty, but we don’t get to abandon it, damn it! It made us who we are!” His voice thundered, and I saw flashes of my father. Monroe’s father, just like mine, was stuck in his ways. He didn’t care if I was stating facts. He’d made up his mind and didn’t want to change it.

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