THE BODYGUARD

Sebastene's POV "f*****g heat wave," I muttered under my breath as I dragged my heavy bag behind me through the Washington DC airport towards the exit. I stopped at the parking lot, scanning the few people holding up name cards. Before long, I spotted the one with my name on it. I rolled my eyes and started towards the huge guy with a belly so large that you could swear he'd swallowed a whale. As I got closer, his gaze landed on me for a second and then moved back to searching the parking lot, as if waiting to see someone. I smiled to myself. I couldn't blame him. I had that reaction all the time. I got close to him and stood. "Hey." He chewed his gum so loudly and gave me a dismissive look. "Hello, lady." I rolled my eyes again. "You're here for Sebastene?" "Yes. Why?" I scoffed. Why? Rude, but anyway. "I'm Sebastene." I gave him a small smile and let it disappear immediately. He looked taken aback for a minute and just stared at me. I pulled out my official ID and handed it to him. He took it and read through it, but that didn't erase the look on his face. "Sebastene... you know... the female version of Sebastian. I guess it kind of sounds like Sebastian, so no offense taken." The bald, huge man just gave me a small smile, as though he was imagining how I'd probably be sent back home after whoever requested me for this job saw me. Then he loaded my bags into the trunk of the car and we got moving. Somehow I felt triumphant within me for no reason. Seeing people react with surprise when they hear my name first and assume I'm a man, and then seeing me in person, has to be my favorite thing ever—followed closely by being underestimated because of my looks. Nobody really expects so much from a thin, brown-eyed brunette with a slender figure to be one deadly sniper with multiple medals in martial arts. But it has always served me, especially on missions like the one I was on now. I was to protect the son of a multibillionaire who had been facing security threats recently, one of which included a shootout. I pulled out my tablet and scrolled through the information I had on the family involved. A father, his wife, and a son—nineteen years old. I groaned slowly. So basically, I'm taking a job as a personal bodyguard to a nineteen-year-old who was most likely spoiled to the point of stupidity. Great. Just great. I pulled up a photo of each of them. Nice-looking people. I shrugged. Then I pulled up a photo of the boy. He looked a little older than his age, and although it could be the angle at which the photo was taken, he looked a little too manly to be just nineteen. But I had to admit, he was one fine-looking boy. I shrugged once again, closed my tablet, and settled into my seat, taking in the beautiful landscape as we sped by. Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to a huge white gate. I gasped softly once the huge gate opened and we maneuvered into the large environs. The house was a five-minute drive from the gate. Security lined the perimeter. I took in a deep breath, and the sweet scent of flowers and trees that were everywhere filled my lungs. I smiled. In the far distance, I could see a horse racing towards our car. For a moment I was scared, but seeing it cutting through the air and landing with the sun glimmering on its pitch-black coat unlocked a part of me that I thought I'd lost. The horse galloped at full speed next to our car down to the main house. "Damn, this place is magnificent," I whispered. I was in awe and I gaped at the house. I'm ranked number two female sniper in the world and I've traveled around the globe, but nothing and nowhere has ever looked as magnificent and homely at the same time as this mansion. The other homes were all beautiful, but somehow they felt empty. Pretty but empty and devoid of warmth—much like the models I'd met on one execution mission I was assigned to somewhere in the UAE. The car came to a halt at the entrance and I got down, still looking around. Uniformed men approached and helped with my bags. They looked at me funny, but I didn't mind. I wiped the smile off my face and returned their stare dead-on until they looked away. How male-centered is this place, I wondered, as I was led through the door and into a huge room that seemed to be the living room, past a flight of spiral staircase, down a long passage, out into a courtyard, and straight through it. Finally, we came into a large room with a man and a woman sitting with their backs towards the door. "Miss Sebastene reporting to duty, sir." I walked forward and stood before the billionaire and his wife. Wow. Beautiful people. But I stood unwavering, staring back at the woman before focusing my eyes on the man. The billionaire was robust with serious eyes. He assessed me with his grey eyes. I overcame the urge to show my entire front dentition as a slight mockery to his scrutiny. "You're a woman," he said. "Nice observation, sir." I caught his wife's smile from the corner of my eyes. I withheld mine. The man stood and came close to me, not taking his eyes off me. He was about five foot three inches tall by my guess. "Get me her general on the phone," he said to no one in particular, and a few seconds later the driver handed him a phone. He took it. "You brought me a woman." I rolled my eyes at him and zoned out. A few seconds later he put the phone down and signaled for his men to take my bags, still not taking his eyes off me. I gave him a small smile, a nod towards the wife, and headed out with the men. Step one—assert dominance—achieved. Next, the boy. "Where is he?" I asked the driver. "Lunch." "Okay." We got to the kitchen and there he was. Damn, he's good-looking, I thought to myself. He didn't even spare us a glance as we came into the room. "Miss Sebastene reporting for duty, sir." He looked up from his phone and sized me up with his eyes. I held my breath, and my heart beat escalated. I couldn't explain why, and I felt really stupid. Putting myself together, I took in his features. His jet-black hair was styled in some kind of messy but slick style. He was sitting, so I could only see his upper body. Damn, it's muscular. The muscles were subtly pushing against the fabric of his white polo. He looked like a young CEO of a huge conglomerate—which he was. Sebastene, put yourself in order! I stood still and seemingly unbothered as his eyes roamed from my head to my toes, quietly yearning for him to say something. Then he spoke. "You're a woman."