Dangerous protection

Not without him

Maya's POV

I couldn’t finish my breakfast. My stomach had betrayed me, so I had trudged back to my room and collapsed onto the bed.

Sleep came easily, heavy and restless, as if it could wash away the irritation and confusion that Damian had stirred inside me.

When I woke, the sun was already dipping low. Golden light spilled through the tall windows, painting the marble floors with warmth. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, stretching, my mind still tangled with thoughts of him, the way he had smirked, the effortless control he seemed to have over every space he entered.

The party was tonight, and I needed to be ready. I walked to my wardrobe, letting my fingers glide over the rows of dresses. My eyes landed on a sleek black gown I had reserved for special occasions. Something about the simplicity of it felt right, it was elegant and confident, just like I wanted to feel tonight.

As I slipped it on, the fabric hugged me like a second skin, outlining every curve.

I turned to the mirror across the wall and paused, my breath catching. For a moment, even I was stunned. My reflection was bold and breathtaking. The gown shimmered faintly under the soft lights, clinging to my waist before flowing gracefully down my legs.

I leaned closer, applying a soft gloss to my lips, then brushed my hair into smooth waves that framed my face. “Phew,” I whispered, smiling at my own reflection.

Tonight, the party would be about me. Sandra would be impressed; this was exactly what she wanted me to do. I could almost hear her voice teasing, There is only one Maya Coker in this world, the richest billionaire’s daughter.

Sometimes, I needed to remind myself of that. Sometimes I wanted to feel powerful, untouchable. But other times… I hated this life. I hated that my father only cared about business, about money, about keeping me locked up and overprotected like I was his most fragile treasure.

To complete the look, I walked over to my shoe shelf and picked out a pair of glossy black stilettos with gold tips.

They matched perfectly, making me taller, sharper, unstoppable. I checked the time on my phone. It was 7:00 p.m. sharp.

Sandra would already be waiting at the venue.

I chose a small diamond-studded clutch from my collection of bags, something subtle yet luxurious. Then, from the top drawer of my dresser, I picked out my car keys. One last detail remained, the finishing touch.

Perfume.

I walked to the shelves lined with crystal bottles, each one filled with scents worth fortunes.

My fingers landed on the iconic Clive Christian No. 1, the rarest perfume in the world, a gift from my father on my last birthday.

The scent of jasmine, vanilla, and sandalwood floated into the air as I sprayed it across my skin. It smelled like money, like power, like a secret I wasn’t sure I wanted.

Now I was ready.

The sharp clicks of my heels echoed down the staircase as I descended, feeling every inch the woman Sandra wanted me to be.

But then the thought struck me like cold water, Damian. He was my bodyguard now, my shadow, my chain.

My steps slowed, and I frowned, scanning the hallway and the living room.

No sign of him. Good. I didn’t want to see him anyway. The last thing I didn't need tonight was his arrogant presence breathing down my neck.

I crossed the sitting room and pushed the door open. The night air wrapped around me immediately, cool and sharp against my bare shoulders. In the compound, the stationed bodyguards bowed slightly as I passed, their silence a reminder of who I was.

I glanced around, half expecting Damian to appear from the shadows, but he wasn’t there. Relief tugged at me, until the shrill wail of the gate alarm shattered the stillness.

The security guards rushed forward, and the iron gates slowly opened. My heart stumbled in my chest as I saw him walking in. Damian.

Majestic. That was the only word. He moved like he owned the ground, his tall frame wrapped in a fitted dark suit, each step measured and confident. His hair caught the faint glow of the floodlights, and his sharp eyes scanned the compound with quiet authority. The air itself seemed to bend for him.

My stomach somersaulted. I tore my gaze away quickly, furious at myself.

“Do open the gate,” I boomed to the guard nearest me, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’m going out.”

I headed straight for my car, a sleek black Lamborghini Urus parked beside two other luxury vehicles. Its curves gleamed under the compound lights, the tinted windows hiding the plush leather interior. It wasn’t just a car, it was a statement. My statement.

But before I could open the driver’s door, a voice cut sharply beside me. Deep. Steady. Unshakable.

“I promised your father to keep you safe. That means I work for you and protect you. Where are we going?”

I froze, fingers tightening on the handle. I turned slowly, glaring at him. We? The word burned in my ears. What did he mean by we? My anger flared.

But Damian only smirked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his eyes fixed on me like he could read every secret I had.

Then, without warning, he stepped closer. So close that my breath hitched, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with my perfume. His voice dropped into a whisper that curled around me like smoke.

“I won’t allow you to go out alone. I was assigned to protect you, so let me do my work.”

Before I could react, his hand moved smoothly and deliberately. Then he plucked the car keys from my grip.

“Get in the passenger seat,” he ordered, his tone calm but firm.

My mouth parted in shock. His audacity was killing me. For a moment, I just stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the man who dared to command me.

Without hesitation, he opened the driver’s door, slid into the seat, and started the engine. The deep growl of the car filled the compound. He rolled down the window, tilted his head toward me, and said, “Hop in. Let’s have a lovely ride to your destination.”

I hissed under my breath, stomping around to the other side. I had no choice. Sandra would already be waiting, and I couldn’t waste time arguing. My phone buzzed in my clutch, with Sandra's name flashing on the screen, proof that I needed to get moving.

I sank into the leather seat, slamming the door shut just as Damian sped out of the compound with reckless precision. My body jolted against the seat as the car shot forward.

“Hey, jerk! Watch it!” I yelled, clutching the handle.

But Damian only smirked, his eyes fixed on the road. “Enjoy the ride and don’t complain. Now, give me the address.”

I drew in a sharp breath, my chest tight. There

was no fear in him, no hesitation. Nothing stirred him. Nothing touched him.

There we were again.