The CEO And Her Bodyguard

Chapter 12: The Off-Grid Protocol

Rebekkah's POV.

“You’re not going back to the penthouse, Rebekah,” Derek said, his voice as flat as a dial tone.

He didn't look at me as he took the turn on two wheels, the tires of the SUV screaming against the pavement. He was driving like a man who knew exactly who was behind us, even if I couldn't see them yet. I gripped the door handle so hard my knuckles felt like they were going to burst through my skin.

“Derek, Michael is going to lose his mind,” I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. “He has a dinner with the board tonight. He expects me to be there in that green dress. He’s going to call the police.”

Derek’s eyes shifted to the rearview mirror, sharp and focused. “Let him call them. By the time they track this car’s GPS, we’ll be long gone. Michael thinks he can protect you with lawyers and press releases. He’s wrong. That man in the lobby? He wasn't there to take a picture. He was marking his territory. Richard and Thomas sent him to see how close they could get.”

I looked at the side of Derek’s face. He had a small cut on his cheekbone that was starting to bleed again, a dark red line against his skin. He looked exhausted, but his hands on the wheel were steady. He was the only thing in my life that felt solid right now. Everything else...the merger, the adoption papers from when I was ten, the way my "siblings" looked at me like I was an intruder in their mother’s house...it all felt like a house of cards.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice barely a thread.

“Somewhere private,” he replied. “Somewhere Michael doesn't own. Somewhere your siblings haven't bought yet.”

We drove for what felt like hours, leaving the aggressive lights of Manhattan behind for the winding, dark roads of the Hudson Valley. The city disappeared, replaced by the heavy silhouettes of trees that looked like reaching hands. I watched the navigation screen on the dashboard. Derek had disabled it. We were off the grid.

When we finally stopped, the silence that followed was so heavy it made my ears ring.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

He got out of the car, his hand immediately going to the holster at his hip. I watched him through the glass as he moved around the perimeter of the building. He was fast, moving with a grace that didn't belong to a man his size. He checked the shadows, checked the tree line, and then finally signaled for me to get out.

The air out here was cold and smelled like wet dirt and pine. I wrapped my blazer tighter around myself, my heels sinking into the gravel. I felt small. I felt like a target.

“Inside,” Derek said, opening the heavy metal door.

The interior was cold and smelled of woodsmoke and old leather. There were no emeralds here. No silk wallpaper. Just raw stone and heavy beams. It felt like a place where things went to hide.

Derek closed the door and turned three separate locks. He didn't turn on the overhead lights. He just clicked on a small lamp on a side table. He turned to me, and for the first time that night, he really looked at me. Not as a job. Not as the Grant CEO. Just... as me.

“Take off the pearls,” he said.

I blinked, my hand going to my throat. “What?”

“The pearls,” he repeated, stepping closer. “They have a tracker in the clasp. Michael’s security team put it there this morning while you were in the shower. He doesn't trust me, and he doesn't trust you to stay where he puts you. He’s helping your siblings track you without even knowing it.”

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. Michael had tracked me? He’d treated me like a piece of luggage? My fingers fumbled with the clasp, but I couldn't get it. I was shaking too hard. The adrenaline was leaving my system, leaving me hollow and weak.

“I can’t,” I whispered, my eyes filling with hot, frustrated tears. “I can’t get it open.”

Derek didn't hesitate. He stepped into my space, his heat radiating off him like a furnace. He reached out, his large hands coming up to my neck. I held my breath, my heart stopping in my chest. His fingers were rough, calloused, but they moved with a gentleness that made my throat ache.

I looked up at him. His face was inches from mine. I could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes. I could see the way his pulse was jumping in his neck. He wasn't just my bodyguard. He was the man who had seen me at my worst and didn't look away.

He unclipped the pearls and held them in his palm for a second before dropping them into a lead-lined box on the table. The sound of them hitting the bottom felt like a door slamming shut on my old life.

“You’re safe here,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

“For how long?” I asked. “Michael is going to find us. Richard, Thomas... they aren't going to stop until I’m out of the way. They’ve hated me since the day Mom brought me home from the orphanage at ten. They think the company belongs to them by blood.”

Derek leaned down, his face so close I could feel his breath on my lips. “Let them think what they want. For the first time in ten years, nobody knows where you are. You aren't the adopted outsider. You aren't a fiancée. You’re just a woman who is alive.”

I looked at him, and I realized he was right. I was stripped of everything. My money, my status, my plans. I was in a dark house with a man who was a stranger to everyone but me.

“Why are you doing this, Derek?” I asked. “You could have let Michael handle it. You could have stayed at the office and taken the paycheck.”

Derek’s hand came up, his thumb brushing against my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The touch was electric, making my skin tingle. He looked at me with an intensity that made me feel like he was seeing into my very soul.

“Because Michael wants to own you,” Derek said. “And your brothers want to bury you.”

He paused, his eyes darkening.

“And I’m the only one who knows you’re the only thing in this world worth saving.”

He didn't kiss me. He didn't move any closer. He just stood there, his hand on my face, letting the silence of the woods wrap around us. I realized then that I wasn't just choosing between safety and danger. I was choosing between a man who loved my name and a man who loved my life.

I reached up and put my hand over his, feeling the strength in his fingers. I wasn't the girl from the press conference anymore. I was something else. Something dangerous.

“Teach me,” I said.

Derek tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Teach you what?”

“How to fight,” I replied, my voice steady for the first time all day. “How to make them regret they ever thought I was trash.”

Derek’s smile widened, but it wasn't a happy look. It was the look of a man who was about to start a fire.

“That,” he said, “is going to take more than a few days.”

I didn't care. I looked at the heavy door, the dark woods, and the man standing in front of me. I knew the world was searching for me. And I knew Michael was probably burning down the city to find his prize.