The shrill chime of the doorbell sliced through the quiet hum of the living room, jolting me from my restless pacing across the floors. My heart thudded hard—a tangled knot of nerves and raw anticipation—as I glanced down at the app confirmation glowing on my phone screen.
Honestly, I didn't want Hellen to accompany me—she was so overprotective of me, even though we know each other for just a small period of time. But that didn't matter—I considered her as my best friend.
It showed—Bodyguard ETA—2 minutes. Herlos was finally picking up steam, but Viktor's shadow loomed darker than ever, his texts unanswered and his schemes festering like an open wound. What if he was the one who sent his men after me? I can't help, but doubt him.
I couldn't afford to take chances anymore—not when I am just starting my journey. Clutching the plush arm of the sofa for a steadying breath, I smoothed my hoodie, the fabric whispering soft against my skin, and hobbled toward door.
The bell rang again, sharper, more insistent, cutting through the faint crackle of the stone fireplace in the living room beyond.
I swung the door open wide, and a rush of cool evening air flooded in, carrying the earthy tang of rain-damp gravel from the drive and the sweet, distant drift of lilies blooming wild in the garden beds. Twilight painted the treeline in bruised purples, the sky heavy with the promise of night.
In front of me, stood a woman—towered there on the porch like a storm cloud carved from living marble—six foot one of unyielding, coiled presence that filled the doorway without effort.
Broad-shouldered yet lithe, her frame screamed restrained power, every line honed from years of breaking threats before they broke her. Her pixie cut was razor-sharp precision—jet-black strands cropped razor-close to her skull on the sides, fading into a tousled crown just long enough to catch the porch light's golden gleam, each spike artfully defiant.
It framed a face of hard, arresting angles—high cheekbones sliced like polished blades, a straight patrician nose that flared subtly at the nostrils with each controlled breath, and full lips pressed into a thin line of cool professionalism.
She looked more handsome than beautiful. Gray eyes, sharp as shattered flint and unblinking beneath arched brows, locked onto mine from under the low brim of a sleek black baseball cap, its embroidered insignia faded from wear.
A fitted black tactical jacket clung to her athletic build—shoulders wide as a linebacker's, rolling with latent strength; arms corded thick with lean muscle that strained the zipped sleeves just so—tucked neatly over matte-black cargo pants that moulded to powerful thighs and calves, ending in scuffed tactical boots planted firm, their soles etched with the grit of real streets.
A faint scar traced her left jawline, silvered pale and old, curving like a crescent moon from earlobe to chin, whispering of battles survived and enemies left in the dust.
Her alpha poured off her in waves. Okay, this woman was good—very good. I am pretty sure that I can rely on her.
"Are you Ms. Emily Leonhart?" Her voice rumbled low, controlled, that vibrated through the threshold like distant thunder, as she dipped her head just a fraction—respecting the doorframe's height without once softening her iron stance.
"Yes," I replied, craning my neck up to hold those steely gray eyes, my pulse kicking faster under the sheer weight of her gaze. She loomed effortless and immense, making me feel unexpectedly fragile, my own alpha fire flickering in quiet challenge despite the pull.
"I'm Reyes—your bodyguard. App confirms arrival—please confirm it." She extended a gloved hand, palm upturned in crisp formal offer, the black leather creaking faintly. Her posture stayed ramrod straight yet liquid-fluid, coiled to pivot at the twitch of a shadow or the rustle of leaves.
I blinked, peering past her massive silhouette to the empty gravel drive, where only her unmarked black SUV idled silent under the oaks, headlights off. "Only one of you?"
Her scarred brow twitched—a rare flicker of dry amusement cracking through the stone facade, gone in a breath—before her expression ironed back to neutral steel. "You paid for one, Ms. Leonhart. Solo elite package—full perimeter, 24/7 rotation, threat neutralization. Doubling up triggers double the rate—minimum two-grand upcharge."
Well, Reyes is enough for my protection.
"I... paid for one only?" The words tumbled out clumsy, heat flooding my cheeks rosy as I flashed back to the frantic app tap. Emily! Rushing like always. I am sure an idiot, aren't I?
But her sheer competence radiated like a shield, warm and solid, chasing the embarrassment into the dusk. And gods, up close like this, she was striking—handsome in that rugged, unapologetic way that hit like a shot of whiskey, all sharp edges and quiet power.
Reyes would humiliate a man by just standing beside her.
"Affirmative." No judgment edged her tone, just flat, tactical fact. She shifted her weight minutely on those planted boots, her gray eyes flicking predator-fast across the treeline beyond, scanning corners and shadows with mechanical efficiency, cataloguing every rustle in the gathering dark.
"Fine then." I stepped back into the warmly lit foyer, the glow from the living room spilling golden across floors, where wildflowers nodded lazily in their vase on the coffee table and the fireplace popped soft embers.
"Should we go now?"
Gesturing with an open hand, I met her gaze steady. "Come in, Reyes. Let's talk details inside—rates, protocols, and other things."
Her eyes widened a fraction—just a hair, shock rippling across that severe mask like a pebble dropped in still water, shattering the professional frost. Full lips parted on a sharp, involuntary inhale, her gloved hand freezing mid-air, fingers curling loose as if I'd just invited a wolf across the sacred threshold of home.
"Most people don't allow us into enter their house on first contact. So, it would be better if I stay outside, and ghost the perimeters—searching for threats."
I shook my head. "No need, Reyes. Just come on in. I am not like the other people, am I? So, come on."
"But—"
"Please, don't argue. Don't judge me by my size, okay? I am an alpha too—if you won't come, then I will force you." I raised my arms, and showed my 'non-existing' muscles.
Reyes snorted loudly, making me glare at her. "Appreciated, Ms. Leonhart," she murmured.
"Good!"
She straightened to her full height once clear of the frame, cap tipping back to reveal more of that scarred jaw. "But protocol mandates a full perimeter sweep first—exterior clear, entry secured. After that, I will come into the house. Is it okay?"
Crossing my arms under my chest, I leaned against the foyer's cream walls, raven ponytail swinging loose. "Sweep away, Reyes. Just don't spook Hellen... if she pops up unexpectedly—she's already overprotective enough to start a turf war over shadows."
"Who is Hellen?"
"My friend. No, my best friend!"
"I will keep that in mind."