Falling For My Grumpy Bodyguard

Chapter 6

ARIELLE

Call me dramatic, but I would rather faint on this bed than eat after all that had happened. Even though my stomach was making whale noises loud enough to pass for a horror movie sound effect, there was no way in hell my pride would let me go downstairs for dinner.

Because apparently, the great Vincent Beaumont thought it was an excellent idea to sell off my freedom, like I was still five years old and needed someone to hold my hand just to cross the street.

What really pissed me off was even how Damien refused my bribe like money grew on trees in his backyard. I get it, some people have integrity, but who turns down five thousand dollars in this economy? Five grand could have paid for, I don’t know, twenty pairs of Louboutins on sale if I was smart, or two really good ones if I wasn’t. But no, he just looked me dead in the eye like I had offered him spoiled milk. At that point, I honestly could not tell if he was stupid, proud, or just allergic to happiness.

So I was lying face down on my pillow, plotting new and creative ways to make him regret it. Because having a bodyguard changed everything. How was I supposed to sneak out for club nights without him reporting back? My father loved to pretend he was the modern, understanding parent, but he still flipped when I stayed out late. The last time he caught me, he cut my allowance for an entire month. Do you know what that did to me? I had to rewear outfits. In public. Imagine the horror.

A knock came at the door, soft but irritating, because I already knew who it was. “Robin, leave me alone! I said I’m not coming down for dinner!”

Robin was my nanny-chef-fairy godmother all rolled into one, and she took her job way too seriously. I swear, the woman believed feeding me was her life’s true calling. This had to be her third time coming upstairs since dinner began. Did she think I was going to magically change my mind if she kept knocking? No, Robin, persistence had never worked on me.

I buried my head deeper into the pillow until I heard the door creak open. “Robin, I mean it, I’m not—”

“It’s me.”

I rolled over so fast my hair almost whipped me in the face. “Daddy?” My eyes shot straight to his legs. “Wait… where is your wheelchair? Why are you walking?”

He stepped in like it was nothing, shutting the door behind him. “I’m fine, princess. I just don't like the idea of moving in a wheelchair. It makes me feel disabled,” he said calmly. “I can walk on my own now. The pain isn’t as bad anymore.”

I blinked at him like I had just been told Santa Claus was real. The doctor said he had to remain in the chair for at least three days because of his sprained ankle, and now suddenly he was strolling into my room like he was about to give a motivational speech? “You’re serious?”

He nodded, moving closer. “Serious.”

I should've been happy for his recovery, but I flopped back down dramatically, turning my face to the wall. “Well, good for you. But you can go away now, Daddy. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Of course, he did not go away. Instead, the bed dipped beside me. I felt his hand gently brushing my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear like he had done since I was little. It should have been comforting, but right then it just made me more annoyed.

“Still mad at me?” he asked softly.

“Yes.” My answer was muffled but clear enough.

“Why?”

I whipped around to face him, my eyes narrowed. “Why do you always have to make me feel like a baby? I’m twenty-three years old, Daddy. Twenty-three. Adults don’t need babysitters.”

He just looked at me, patient as ever, like he’d been training all his life for my temper. “You’re my only child, Arielle. I can’t afford anything happening to you. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Because it’s suffocating!” I sat up, arms crossed tight across my chest. “You treat me like glass, like I’ll shatter if I breathe the wrong way. I hate it.”

“You think this is about control?” His eyes softened, but his voice sharpened. “This is about love. I already lost once when I was attacked. I can’t risk losing you.”

My throat tightened, but I held my ground. “It’s still unfair.” I turned my face away again, but not before I caught the flicker of tiredness in his eyes. He looked older than usual, the weight of his worry pressing down on his shoulders. And for a moment, guilt pinched me, but I pushed it down because I was still mad.

Then he dropped the bomb. “You’re eventually going to stop being angry because Damien already signed the contract online.”

I spun back toward him so fast I nearly sprained my neck. “He what?”

“He signed,” my father repeated, calm as if he were telling me the time.

“Dad!” I sprang off the bed, arms folded, pacing now because sitting felt impossible. How could that asshole sign a contract so quickly even after my threat?

Daddy leaned back slightly, watching me pace. “I just want your safety guaranteed, Arielle. I’m not always around you because of work, I even have an emergency board meeting tomorrow. How can I be sure you’re safe if I don’t put someone I can trust beside you?”

“You’re selfish,” I snapped, but underneath I heard my own fear. “You just want me monitored like some kind of science experiment.”

“No,” he said, his tone cutting through mine. “That’s not my intention. Your safety is my only priority.”

I rolled my eyes. “So Damien is supposed to what? Stalk me twenty-four seven and report back every time I sneeze?”

He shook his head. “Damien won’t be reporting your every move to me. That’s not his job. He’s not a spy. And I'm not a creep who wants to limit your freedom.”

I paused, arms still crossed, suspicion written all over my face. “Really?”

“Really.” He held my gaze, unflinching.

I wanted to stay angry, I really did, but the fight inside me started deflating like a balloon. “So… he’s just there to make sure I’m safe?”

“That’s it,” my father said. “Nothing more.”

I sat back down slowly, chewing on my lip before a reluctant smile slipped out. “Fine.”

His face softened in relief. “That’s my girl. Now, come here.”

I sighed like it was the biggest chore in the world, but when he opened his arms, I crawled into them anyway. Because no matter how annoyed I was, no matter how unfair I thought he was, he was still my dad. And the truth was, I missed him. Even while being angry, I missed him.

For a moment, it was quiet, just his hand smoothing my hair and my head resting against his shoulder. Then he pulled back and said, “Now, shall we go downstairs for dinner?”

I rolled my eyes again, but this time there was no heat behind it. “Fine, but only because I’m starving.”

We rose together and walked toward the door, my arm brushing his like I was a child again. For a moment, I almost believed I could live with this new arrangement. But then, just as we stepped into the hallway, I muttered under my breath, “Still doesn’t mean Damien isn’t a jerk.”

My dad chuckled in reply. “If Damien is a jerk, then Logan is worse.”

“But dad!” I froze mid-step, whipping my head toward him. “What do you mean by that?”

He only smiled, pressed the elevator button, and said, “You will understand soon enough.”