Page 70 of Untamed Protector

“God, Lena, you took it too far.”

“Did I? He has a list of girlfriends as long as my yearly to-do list. There’s no single beautiful woman under forty in this city who hasn’t spent some magical moments in his arms.”

I giggle. “I still think that’s a bit much, but okay…”

“Let’s just get back to our stuff. Enough billionaires, hot bodyguards, and alpha protectors for one day,” Lena says. “We need to get to the port. Did you save the car pic on your phone?”

“Fuck. Stupid me. It’s on the other phone.”

“Girl, you’re lucky to have me. You’ve sent it to me so many times that it must be somewhere in my downloads.”

Lena locks the car and fixes her clothes. With the phone in her hand, she heads toward the port entrance.

“Did you find it?” I ask, slightly panicking.

She scrolls her phone for a minute, then shows me a picture of the car that’s worth almost half a million. I must’ve spent hours researching the model, listening to engine sounds in tons of videos and online recordings so I could find the exact one that hit us. I narrowed it down to two matte grey European models that look the same from behind and are limited editions with only a few hundred made.

“There’s no way this car entered the country by road. It was definitely shipped in and then stashed somewhere. If it had come by road, people would’ve seen it. I’m sure there are some folks here in the port who might remember. How do we get in?” I ask.

Lena shoots me a confident smirk. “We’ve got this. I sweet-talked a guy who works here this morning. I told him I was writing a feature about the port’s recent investments and upgrades and that I needed a firsthand look before interviewing the management.”

“And he bought that?”

“Who cares what he bought? He’ll let us in and make a little money on the side.”

“I hope we’re not talking much. You know I’m jobless.”

“I’ve got front-row tickets to a match. I was saving them for someone else, but it’ll be worth it if we sort this out.”

“You’re my guardian angel.”

“No. I’m just the crazy chick who jumps in to lend a hand. The port is huge, you know. We won’t find out everything in one visit.”

Lena calls her contact, who guides her to a port entrance, where we find him waiting for us—somewhat chubby, in his late forties, holding two hard hats for us.

“Do we have to wear these?” Lena asks after greeting him.

“Yes, it’s mandatory; it’s for your protection. So, for your article, let’s kick things off at the South Port. That’s where you’ll find the container terminals—massive operations with cutting-edge cranes and storage. They’re a sight to see! Then, we can head to the North Port, where bulk cargo like grain, ore, and coal comes in—a completely different world that is fascinating in its own way. They’ve got all the latest tech for efficient loading and unloading. You’ll get a well-rounded picture of the port by the end of the day.”

Our guide navigates a labyrinth of corridors on hidden paths only he seems to know. The surrounding noise is insane—clanging, shouts, engine roars—a symphony of industrial chaos. This stupid helmet might protect my head, but it also blocks out everything he says. Frustrated, I shuffle next to him, on the opposite side of Lena.

“I work for Lena. I help her with the research part. She took me with her today because she knows I’m obsessed with the port,” I say, trying to get his attention. “So, where do the special shipments, like luxury goods, come in?” I ask.

“It depends on what it is, but everything in a container goes through the South Port, especially valuable stuff like small, expensive items. The terminals are equipped for all sizes, including refrigerated containers for perishable luxury goods.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean perishable goods. I was thinking about luxury cars.”

“Well, luxury products like high-end cars, designer clothes, electronics, or delicate foods go through the container terminals and then go to Customs and Inspection. Ports have designated areas where officials check everything to make sure it follows the rules and isn’t fake or damaged, especially for luxury items.”

“Can we go there first?” I insist.

The guy fixes his gaze on us, then jerks his chin toward the container area. “Did you get me the stuff we talked about?” he asks Lena casually.

Lena fishes an envelope out of her bag. The man rips it open and eyes the cash inside. “This will get you past the gate,” he grunts. “But your little friend here is asking a lot of questions. Do you have anything else for me?”

Lena takes out a second envelope. He opens it, checks out the stack of K1 tickets inside, and shoves them back in with a groan. “So, what exactly do you want to know?”

I unlock my phone and show him the picture of the car. He stares at it, then pinches the screen to get a closer look. “Yeah, cars like this don’t come around often. My wife works in Customs. I can WhatsApp her and ask her to check. I don’t want us to be seen there. But that’ll cost you extra.”

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