Ward stalked into his makeshift security room and paced like a caged lion.
He should have known better.
Most people understood the imperative of keeping their skin intact. Even celebrities.
Not Della Bellamy. Oh no. Self-preservation never entered her pretty head.
He stopped in front of the window and ripped open the curtains. Sunlight doused him and the steady stream of famous faces now piling into cars and heading for the exit. Hell, some of those people had their own stalkers and their own social media armies. It was a security leak of epic proportions, and she’d done it like a teenager holding a party the second her parents were gone for the weekend.
He couldn’t afford to let his principal get to him like this. He had a job to do and a future contract on the line, and at the bottom of the well of excuses and reasons was a woman’s life.
Ms. Bellamy faced a very real threat, even if she refused to see it.
He tried to focus his thoughts. Next steps. Get all of the extra bodies off the property. Sweep the location for stragglers. Check for signs of intrusion into areas that shouldn’t have been accessed. Don’t throttle the client.
He scowled at the laughing horde as they got into their cars and drove away. They’d all been drinking. They were all liabilities. They were all now potential suspects.
One of them might be the stalker.
He had to report this. He had to call in now, before Ms. Bellamy’s little afternoon delight broke all over social media.
It was probably too late for that.
He hadn’t recognized everyone in the backyard, but the people he did know were paving the Hollywood Walk of Fame. The others probably traveled in the same circles. They were all A-list media personalities and paparazzi magnets, which meant there was no way they wouldn’t talk, tweet, post, or brag. Maybe all at the same time.
How would he explain this to the man who’d hired him?
He’d been gone for less than twenty-four hours, and during that small amount of time, his protectee had managed to have an orgy.
He could already picture the look on Renic’s face. Disbelief. Disappointment. Disgust. Would it be for him or for Ms. Bellamy…or both?
When he started this business, he knew he’d have to make tough calls, but he’d never planned on having to make one quite like this. If Renic reacted the way he should, all of his future plans would be on indefinite hold.
He’d let his guard down. There was no excuse.
Might as well get it over with.
He put his phone on the holder Piper used for recording and dialed, then straightened to attention for the video call.
He would face this like a Marine, with his head held high.
Renic’s face popped on-screen on the second ring. He wore a casual polo shirt, and there was weekend stubble on his face. He sat in a leather executive chair at a large desk that shouted “CEO,” and there was a pile of paperwork in front of him. Soothing music played in the background.
The man was in his office on a Sunday. That didn’t surprise Ward at all.
Renic gave him a questioning glance. “Ward. How’s it going?”
“We have a situation.” Ward congratulated himself on how steady his voice sounded. None of the angry embarrassment he felt showed. Yet.
“The stalker?” Renic leaned forward, his expression morphing from casual to hard in a blink. “What happened? Is Della okay?”
“She’s secure.” Ward checked the security feed. His protectee was currently in the front driveway waving goodbye to her adoring fans. “For now.”
Renic leaned back with obvious relief. “What did she do?”
“She threw a party.” It sounded so innocent when he said it like that. Since that didn’t convey what he meant or what he felt, he tried again. “She invited half of Hollywood over for water volleyball. Her safe house location is compromised.”
Renic winced but didn’t look surprised. He’d obviously expected a call like this at some point.