Beneath His Protection

Serena Moretti’s voice echoed through the marble hallway, sharp and furious. She stormed out of her father’s office, her heels clacking like gunshots on the polished floor. Behind her, he followed — silent, calm, unreadable. Liam Carter. Her new bodyguard. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black. His eyes were cold, his jaw locked tight. He looked like he belonged in a war zone, not in her gilded prison. She spun around and faced him. "Do you speak, or are you just here to breathe behind me all day?" He paused. Then answered simply, “I speak when I’m paid to.” Her eyes narrowed. “Charming.” She turned and kept walking, muttering under her breath. This is going to be hell. What she didn’t know… …was that he already knew everything about her. Her habits. Her schedule. Her secrets. And his mission? Wasn’t to protect her. It was to destroy the man who raised her. --- > Serena reached the end of the hallway and pushed the glass doors open, stepping into the garden. The late afternoon sun painted golden shadows over the stone paths. Roses bloomed along the fences, too perfect, too still — like everything else in her life. She hated this place. It looked like freedom. But it was a cage. “You don’t have to follow me out here,” she called over her shoulder, her voice flat. Liam didn’t reply. He simply stood a few steps behind, arms crossed, eyes scanning the space. “I said you don’t have to—” “And I said nothing,” he cut her off. Serena turned to face him again, her chest rising with annoyance. “You're really not trying to make this easy, are you?” “I’m not here to make it easy. I’m here to keep you alive.” His tone was steady. Emotionless. Her lips parted, stunned. Alive? What did he know that she didn’t? --- > Serena folded her arms, standing stiffly in the sunlight. "So tell me, Mr. Silent," she said with mock sweetness, "do you always follow women around for a living, or am I just lucky?" Liam’s eyes didn’t flinch. “I go where I’m told.” “By my father.” “By your security.” “Which he controls.” “Which you benefit from.” That shut her up for a second. She hated how calm he was. Like he was made of iron. "Do you think this is normal?" she asked suddenly. "Guards. Guns. People watching me eat, sleep, breathe." He was silent. But his eyes… shifted, just slightly. That was enough for her. "Exactly," she whispered, backing away a step. "You're all the same. Loyal dogs." Liam didn’t move. But his voice, when it came, was cold. “And you, princess?” She blinked. “You live in a palace, wear silk and diamonds, and still act like a prisoner. Maybe the cage isn’t around you. Maybe it's in your head.” Her breath caught. The hit landed. Too close. “Go to hell,” she said, her voice cracking just slightly. She turned fast, too fast. Didn’t see the step. Her ankle twisted— “Careful.” Two strong hands caught her before she hit the ground. For a second, she was in his arms. Breathless. And he was looking at her like… like he hadn’t meant to care. --- > Serena pulled herself away from his arms fast, as if his touch burned. “I don’t need saving,” she muttered. Liam didn’t reply. He only stepped back, giving her space. She limped slightly, biting her lip as pain flickered through her ankle. “Let me see it.” “I said I’m fine.” “And I don’t care what you said,” Liam replied, kneeling beside her without waiting. He gently lifted her foot, testing the ankle. His fingers were firm but careful. “It’s not broken,” he said. “Just twisted. You’ll need to ice it.” Serena didn’t say anything. She was too busy staring at his face. Up close, he looked younger. Not boyish — no, never that — but less… brutal. His jaw was stubbled, his skin a warm bronze, and his eyes… they weren’t cold now. Just tired. “You don’t talk much,” she said softly. “Not my job.” “But you think a lot.” A pause. “More than I should.” “What did you do before this?” Liam stood up. “You ask too many questions.” “You give too few answers.” Their eyes met. Silence stretched like a string between them. Then he looked away. “You should go inside.” “Because you said so?” “Because someone’s watching.” Serena froze. “What?” Liam’s jaw clenched. “Your father's men. Cameras. Always.” She felt cold suddenly. He noticed. And hated that he cared. --- > Serena limped back into the house, her mood darker than the sky outside. She didn’t look back to see if he was following. She knew he was. Silent. Like her shadow. When she reached the main stairway, she turned suddenly. Liam stopped mid-step. She looked at him. Long. He met her gaze without blinking. “Why are you really here?” she asked. Silence. Just that stare. Heavy. Calm. Unreadable. “Fine. Stay quiet. That’s what you’re good at.” She turned again— “To keep you alive,” he said. Voice low. Flat. No emotion. She stared at him. His eyes didn’t move from hers. Then he looked down… and away. And followed her up the stairs. --- > The study smelled of old cigars and polished wood. Serena stood in front of her father’s desk, arms crossed, ankle aching. “Why him?” Carlo Moretti didn’t look up from his glass of whiskey. “Why not?” “You replaced Marco. Marco’s been with me for years.” “Marco was careless. This one isn’t.” “He’s a ghost.” “That’s why I hired him.” Serena clenched her jaw. Beside the door, Liam stood motionless, silent as a shadow. Her father’s voice dropped. “You’re being watched, bambina.” “By who?” “By everyone.” His words wrapped around her like chains. “Then why do I need a guard if I’m already in a cage?” Her father looked up finally, his eyes dark. “Because sometimes, the danger is inside the cage.” Liam’s eyes flicked to her face. And in that second… He saw it. The flash in her eyes. Not anger. Not defiance. Fear.