Page 2 of Bound to the Bodyguard

Minutes stretched into eternity as we awaited Alex’s arrival, each passing second feeling heavier than the last. A knock on the door shattered the suffocating silence that hung over us like a dark cloud. Evelyn hurried to answer it, revealing him standing on the other side. Without a word, he stepped inside and his gaze swept over the room, taking in every detail. His presence brought a sense of reassurance, a glimmer of hope, amidst the chaos that threatened to consume us.

Without a word, he strode over and examined the unsettling note that had caused a storm of unease to brew. His brows furrowed as he read the cryptic message, his jaw clenching before he spoke.

“It’s a onetime thing, Raven. Don’t let them see it’s scared you. Whoever it is will stop.”

Instead of soothing my frayed nerves, his words only heightened the creeping sense of paranoia. How could he be so sure? How could anyone be so certain?

Evelyn shot him a skeptical look, her lips pressed into a thin line. “But who would go through all this trouble just for a onetime scare?”

As Alex delved into devising a plan to uncover the identity of the mysterious person, Evelyn’s phone rang, breaking the tense atmosphere once more. She glanced at the caller ID, a frown creasing her brow.

“Sorry, Raven. It’s about the kids.”

I mustered a reassuring smile, understanding her need to prioritize her family. “Go take care of them. I’ll be okay,” I said, watching as she hurriedly gathered her belongings and made her way to the door.

“Keep your security system armed,” she reminded me before disappearing.

Alex answered a phone call too, but walked into the kitchen. When he came back, he had to leave too.

“One of my other clients needs me. I’m sorry, but stay calm but vigilant.”

His words echoed in the room, leaving a hollow emptiness in their wake as he excused himself and made his way out the door.

As the door clicked shut behind Alex, the house seemed to swallow his presence whole, leaving me once again alone in the vast expanse of silence. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, each creak and groan of the old house magnified to deafening proportions. I stood there, frozen in place, listening for any sign of intrusion or danger.

The note sat on the table, its words taunting me with their ominous mystery. I reached out a trembling hand to pick it up, the paper feeling cold and threatening against my skin. My mind raced with questions and doubts, each one more sinister than the last.

I made my way up the grand staircase, the steps cold beneath my bare feet. The looming portraits lining the walls watched me pass with their unseeing eyes, adding to the sense of foreboding that clung to the air like a second skin. In my bedroom, I paused by the window, gazing out at the moonlit garden below. The rustling of leaves in the wind sounded like hushed whispers conspiring against me. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a shadowy figure lurking among the trees. My heart raced in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as fear gripped me in its icy embrace. I shook off the irrational dread, reminding myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me. But deep down, a nagging voice whispered that something sinister lurked in the darkness outside.

Chapter 2

Jerome

Amidst the sea of gowns and tuxedos, I observed every ripple of discomfort and unease, my gaze as sharp as an eagle among sparrows.

“Champagne, sir?”

I declined without breaking stride. No time for distractions tonight.

“Everything alright, Dawson?” My earpiece crackled with the voice of my colleague stationed across the room.

“Potentially. Monitor the duo by the stairs. Something’s off.”

“Copy that. Watching.”

I continued to scan the room, each glance peeling back layers of facades to reveal the raw nerves beneath. It was in the way a gentleman’s smile failed to reach his eyes, in the nervous laughter of a debutante, in the fidgeting of a businessman as he adjusted his tie for the tenth time.

Stay alert. Control the space, control the situation.

My observations were not just about spotting threats—they were about understanding the human psyche, predicting behavior before it unfolded. That was the key to preemptive protection. And I, with every fiber of my disciplined being, was a master of anticipation.

My gaze swept across the room, a silent sentinel amidst the laughter and clinking of champagne glasses. Despite the opulence, my posture remained unyieldingly professional—shoulders back, eyes sharp, movements fluid yet deliberate. My demeanor was an island of calm in a sea of festivity, betraying none of the tension that coiled within.

Focus. Eyes on the prize, Dawson.

It was then that the murmur of voices grew into something sharper. A raised voice sliced through the hum of conversation, carrying the unmistakable timbre of anger.

“Absolutely not! You’re mistaken, and I won’t stand for such accusations!”

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