Stay Behind Me

Elena Marlow hated being watched. Unfortunately, it came with being Elena Marlow. Cameras followed her outside restaurants. Reporters shouted questions she never answered. Strangers online tracked what she wore, where she ate, and who she dated like it was their full-time job. Security guards lingered outside every doorway she walked through. But tonight felt different. Tonight felt wrong. The ballroom glittered with gold chandeliers and expensive smiles as politicians, donors, and socialites filled the Marlow Foundation gala. Everyone looked polished. Controlled. Fake. Elena stood near the edge of the room in a silk black dress, fingers curled tightly around a champagne glass she hadn’t touched. “You should smile more,” her father murmured beside her without looking away from the cameras. “You should stop selling my existence for campaign donations.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Not tonight.” That meant yes. Elena forced a tight smile as another photographer snapped pictures from across the room. Her cheeks already hurt from pretending. “I’m getting air,” she said flatly. Before her father could object, she slipped through the crowd and toward the balcony doors. The second the cool night air hit her skin, she exhaled. Finally. The city stretched endlessly below her, glowing beneath the dark sky. Traffic lights flickered red and white far beneath the building while music from inside became muted behind the glass doors. For the first time all night, she could hear herself think. “You shouldn’t be alone.” The deep voice behind her nearly made her drop the glass. Elena spun around sharply. A man stood near the balcony entrance dressed entirely in black. Black suit. Black tie. Black gloves. Tall enough that he seemed to take up the entire doorway. And he was staring directly at her. “Jesus,” she snapped. “Do you normally sneak up on people for fun?” “No.” His voice was calm. Controlled. Annoyingly calm. Elena narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you following me?” “I’m assigned to you.” She blinked once. “Excuse me?” The man stepped forward slightly, city lights catching the sharp angles of his face. Dark hair. Tired eyes. A scar near his jawline faintly visible beneath the low lighting. Too attractive for his own good. Too intimidating for hers. “Luca Devereaux,” he said. “Private security.” Elena let out a humorless laugh. “My father hired another babysitter?” “Bodyguard.” “Same thing.” His expression didn’t change. That somehow irritated her more. “I don’t need a bodyguard.” “You do tonight.” The way he said it made the air suddenly feel colder. Elena studied him more carefully now. Most of her father’s security acted arrogant or overly eager to impress people. Luca stood completely still, hands behind his back, eyes scanning everything around them like he expected danger to appear at any second. Like he’d done this a thousand times before. “What happened to the last team?” she asked. “They were replaced.” “That bad, huh?” “Yes.” Short answers. No emotion. No wasted words. God, she already hated him. Elena turned back toward the skyline. “Well, Luca, you can tell my father I survived the terrifying experience of standing alone on a balcony for thirty seconds.” “You were followed out here.” Her stomach tightened slightly. She turned. “What?” Luca’s gaze shifted toward the ballroom doors. “Male. Gray suit. Mid-forties. Left when he saw me.” Elena tried to laugh it off, but something about the certainty in his voice unsettled her. “You’re being dramatic.” “No,” Luca said quietly. “I’m being careful.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city wind lifted loose strands of Elena’s hair as she studied him again. He didn’t look nervous. He looked prepared. Like danger was something familiar to him. “Do you enjoy this?” she asked suddenly. “This?” “Watching people. Controlling where they go. Making them feel trapped.” His eyes met hers then, dark and unreadable. “It’s not about control,” he said. “It’s about keeping you alive.” Before Elena could answer, a loud crack split through the night. The balcony glass shattered beside her. Everything happened at once. Luca grabbed her violently around the waist and dragged her to the ground as screams erupted inside the ballroom. “Elena, stay down!” Another crack echoed through the air. Gunshots. The world became noise. Glass exploded across the balcony in sharp, glittering fragments as guests inside the ballroom began screaming. Someone knocked over a table. Music cut off abruptly. Elena couldn’t breathe. One second she’d been standing under the city lights arguing with a stranger. The next, she was pinned beneath him on the cold marble floor. Luca’s arm locked tightly around her waist while his other hand shielded the back of her head. “Don’t move,” he ordered. Another gunshot cracked through the night. Closer this time. Elena flinched violently. “Oh my God—” “Stay. Down.” The calmness in his voice terrified her more than the gunshots. Because he sounded used to this. Luca lifted his head slightly, eyes scanning over the destroyed balcony doors. Everything about him changed in seconds. The cold, emotionless man from earlier disappeared. This version of him was sharp. Focused. Dangerous. People inside the ballroom pushed toward exits in panic while security guards shouted over each other. “Elena!” Her father’s voice. Luca ignored it completely. Instead, he pressed a hand against Elena’s shoulder harder. “Can you run?” “What?” “When I move you, run inside and don’t stop.” “I—” “Can. You. Run?” “Yes!” “Good.” Before she could process anything else, Luca pulled her up and shoved her behind him. Another shot rang out. Something sparked against the balcony railing inches away. Elena gasped. Luca grabbed the back of her wrist and dragged her through the shattered doors. The ballroom had dissolved into chaos. Women cried in heels abandoned across the floor. Politicians shoved past each other toward exits. Security guards yelled into radios. And somehow, through all of it, Luca never loosened his grip on her. “Move,” he said sharply. He guided her through the crowd with one hand while the other stayed near the gun hidden beneath his jacket. People stared at them as they passed. Not at Elena. At him. Like they could sense the danger radiating off him. “Elena!” Her father finally reached them, his face pale. “Are you hurt?” “I’m fine—” “We need to leave now,” Luca interrupted. Her father immediately nodded. That surprised her. Powerful men like her father didn’t take orders from anyone. Yet Luca spoke to him like command came naturally. “She goes through the kitchen exit,” Luca continued. “Front entrance is compromised.” Compromised. The word made Elena’s stomach twist. This was real. Someone had actually tried to shoot her. Her father reached for her arm, but Luca stepped slightly between them without even thinking about it. Protective. Instinctive. “We don’t know if there’s more than one shooter,” Luca said. “She stays with me.” For the first time in years, Elena saw uncertainty in her father’s eyes. “Fine,” he muttered. Luca immediately moved again, guiding Elena through the back corridors of the hotel. His hand stayed firm against her lower back the entire time. Not possessive. Protective. The difference should’ve mattered more than it did. “You have a safehouse prepared?” her father asked behind them. “Yes.” Safehouse. Elena almost laughed at how insane this felt. “You’re seriously taking me to a safehouse?” “No,” Luca said as they pushed through the kitchen doors. “I’m getting you out alive.” Rain hit them instantly once they stepped outside. Cold. Heavy. Black SUVs waited near the alley entrance with headlights glowing against the wet pavement. Luca opened the back door of one vehicle and motioned for her to get inside. Elena stopped. “No.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “No?” “I’m not disappearing into some bunker because one psycho took a shot at me.” “A shot?” Luca repeated quietly. Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes. “That wasn’t a warning shot.” The alley suddenly felt much smaller. Much darker. Luca stepped closer until Elena had to tilt her head slightly to look at him. “If I hadn’t pulled you down,” he said evenly, “you would’ve been dead before you hit the floor.” Silence. Rain poured around them while Elena stared at him, unable to speak. Because deep down… She knew he was telling the truth. Luca opened the SUV door again. “This isn’t a request, Elena.” The fact he used her first name startled her. Not Miss Marlow. Not ma’am. Elena. Like he already knew her. Like he intended to keep knowing her. She should’ve argued again. Should’ve snapped something sarcastic. Instead, she got into the car. Luca shut the door behind her before walking around to the opposite side. Even inside the vehicle, Elena could see his eyes scanning rooftops, windows, passing cars. Searching for threats. Always searching. The moment he climbed into the seat beside her, the convoy pulled away from the hotel. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Rain streaked against the dark windows while city lights blurred together outside. Elena’s hands still shook. She hated that he noticed. “You’re in shock,” Luca said quietly. “I’m angry.” “You can be both.” She looked over at him. His tie was slightly loosened now, dark hair damp from the rain. Up close, she noticed faint bruising across his knuckles. Older scars along his hands. A man built from violence. And somehow trying to protect her from it. “Who wants to kill me?” she whispered. Luca’s jaw tightened. “We’re going to figure that out.” Not they. We. For some reason, that made her feel safer. Which scared her almost as much as the gunshots did