Page 7 of Her Remarkable Protector

Hux shrugs. “Fair enough.”

The moment Sam Kelleher and Mark Connor step in, it’s like a shift in the air. These guys don’t just walk into a room. They own it. Sam’s rocking a crisp navy-blue suit, all sharp lines and quiet confidence. Mark’s in charcoal gray, every bit as commanding but with a hint of edge.

“You two lost?” Hux asks, leaning casually against the wall. “This isn’t the boardroom.”

Sam gives him a look, cool and calm. “We are the boardroom.”

Mark smirks. “You should take notes, Comet.”

“Welcome, gents,” I say, as if kicking off a ceremony. We’re keeping it low key, considering how busy we are. “Behold, the fruit of your hard work.”

Sam’s gaze sweeps the HQ, taking in the high ceilings, exposed beams, modular gear walls, and the full-on tactical paradise we’ve built here. His whistle is low, impressed but understated. “Damn. Chase, you took this from a concept tothis. Hell, this feels better than Helena.”

“It better,” I reply, leaning into the moment. “Investors didn’t write those checks for ‘almost good enough.’”

Mark steps forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “This is the dream, Chase. The one Sam and I had years ago. Took blood, sweat, and a whole lot of convincing to make Helena a reality. But this,” he gestures broadly to the space around us, “is the payoff. The second jewel in the crown.”

The truth is, he’s right. Helena was built on Sam and Mark’s grit, their ability to hustle, and their knack for making people believe in their vision. Standing here now, I can feel it—the pride, the sweat, the weight of what it took to get here.

“So your sailing days are definitely over, yeah?” Hux says. “There’s no turning back now.”

“My mother pretty much owns Santa Sophia,” I say of my yacht—took me around the world that beauty. Now it’s docked in San Diego, as mother moved there after father died, while I stay put in Bozeman.

Hux nods toward the climbing walls at the far end. “But tell me we can break that in after lunch.”

Sam raises a brow. “What’s wrong with now?”

Mark smirks, catching Sam’s tone. “We’re leaving for DC in an hour, remember? Suits and sweat don’t mix. Just sayin’.”

Before anyone can react, in strides a sharp-edged figure—the newest addition to the Red Mark family, Ethan Connor. Young, scrappy, and brimming with potential.

Ethan isn’t some random rookie—I’ve spent over six months training him. He slides his ever-present sunglasses up, revealing those youthful eyes that some people foolishly underestimate. It’s why he leans on the eyewear—to add a layer of intimidation. He’s only twenty-three, but anyone who doesn’t take him seriously is making a dangerous mistake. Sunglasses or not, Ethan is lethal.

Hux, unusually quiet, looks at me with a face I rarely see. “Wish I could be part of the Bozeman team, your partner for life. But hey, Ethan’s lucky to have you.”

I give my partner—former partner—a quick hug, gripping tighter than I mean to. “You’re gonna make me cry,” I joke, but the words stick in my throat.

“Don’t you start going all mushy on me!” Hux teases, though he is emotional too.

Throwing an arm around Ethan’s shoulders, I yank him into a bro-hug. “This guy’s gonna crush it here. He’s already part-SEAL, part-Spiderman. Skills off the charts. You should’ve seen him last week—hit the bullseye from fifty yards, no scope.”

Mark narrows his eyes, giving Ethan his best dad-level glare. “And he listens to you?”

“Yes, sir,” Ethan answers, standing straighter than I’ve ever seen.

“Relax, Mark,” Sam says, chuckling. “Chase has got him.”

I clap Ethan on the back. He’s got the moves, the brains, and most importantly, the heart. He’s been through hell and come out stronger. He’s one of us now.

Mark’s expression shifts, almost as if he’s plucked the thought straight from my mind. He’s a man who rarely shows his hand, but that look right there? Pure, unmistakable proud papa.

Everyone at Red Mark has their reason for joining. Mine? It reaches back to my teenage years—a tether of guilt that’s held me fast, no matter how far I’ve tried to run. It’s my own untold truth, yet it’s the driving force behind everything I do.

Meanwhile, Sam’s gaze lingers on the glowing mission displays before he and Mark head off to inspect the armory. Their footsteps fade down the hallway just as I spot movement near the reception desk—a woman pacing, her every step taut with urgency.

No receptionist yet, and someone’s already wandering in unannounced. I really need to start that hiring spree.

I break into a jog toward her.

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