Falling For My Grumpy Bodyguard

Chapter 4

Arielle

“I can’t believe this. I actually cannot believe my phone is gone. And don’t roll your eyes, Daddy, I already reported it to the stupid ride app. Do you know what they told me? ‘We can’t trace your device at the moment, we’re still working on it.’ Working on it? Am I supposed to sit here phoneless in this already boring world?”

Daddy was in his wheelchair, sipping soup the nurse had left before she ran away from my bad mood. He looked way too calm for someone who had just been discharged from the hospital. “Arielle, sweetheart, it’s just a phone. You can always get another one.”

I gasped like he had just said the most disrespectful thing ever. “Another one? Daddy, this isn’t a toothbrush you replace at Walmart, it’s my phone. My phone. Do you know how much of my life is in there? My messages, my gallery, my contacts, my—”

“My peace of mind?” He raised an eyebrow.

I threw my hands up. “Wow. You’re really joking at a time like this. Do you know people are probably tweeting about me right now and I can’t even defend myself because my only weapon is in the hands of some shady driver I can’t even track down, your tech team can’t even find his profile.”

“Calm down, Arielle.”

“Calm down? Daddy, I’m basically living in the Stone Age right now. Do you want me to start sending letters by pigeon?”

Before he could roll his wise old eyes at me again, there was a knock at the door. Great. Just what I needed at the moment… more drama.

And guess who it was? That's right, Logan. He was standing at my door like trouble I thought I had left behind.

“Arielle, we need to talk.”

“Oh, we’re definitely going to talk.” My voice was sharp enough to slice diamonds.

Daddy glanced between us, clearly sensing the storm that was about to erupt. Logan stepped inside like he still had boyfriend rights in this house, and my stomach twisted with irritation.

“Hello, Vincent.” He gave my father a brief nod before closing the space between us. “Babe, listen to me…”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me.” I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “You cheated. End of story.”

His jaw tightened. “It was a rumor. You don’t even have proof. You never caught me red-handed, so stop accusing me of things I didn’t do.”

I laughed, one of those bitter laughs that sounded horrible to hear. “Oh, so you mean all those pictures and that video were fake? Don't be a clown, Logan.”

He threw his hands up. “I can’t believe you’re being this dramatic. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me?”

“For you?!” I almost shrieked. “Logan, I’m the one being dragged on the chat group. I’m the one who has to deal with my so-called friends whispering about me behind my back while you’re out here crying about embarrassment.”

We were yelling so loudly, I swear even the servants were probably grabbing popcorn so they could watch one of our toxic drama again.

“I’m telling you it didn’t happen. Listen to me and stop being a f*****g b***h!” His voice thundered, and that’s was it.

I slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the room. For a second, everything went silent, even I stared in disbelief. We've had many arguments in the past but I had never crossed that line, especially knowing how much he despised being hit by a woman.

Logan’s face twisted with anger, and my chest tightened when he raised his hand at me. But before it could land, before he could even graze a single strand of my hair, another hand shot out of nowhere and sent him flying backward with one clean punch.

I froze, watching Logan hit the floor, groaning and clutching his jaw. And standing over him like some action-movie hero was that man. The driver with gray eyes, and sharp jawline.

“You bastard!” Logan scrambled up, tried to swing back, but the driver dodged him like it was child’s play. Another blow, another hit, and just like that Logan was stumbling toward the door, humiliated and running like the coward he was.

“What the hell?!” I exploded, turning on the driver, my chest heaving as I watched Logan disappear out of sight. “Who the hell are you? Where did you even come from? And why would you do that to my boyfriend?”

His voice was steady, calm, infuriatingly calm. “Any man who raises his hand at a woman doesn’t deserve her. He was about to hit you.”

“I don’t care! I didn’t ask for your help!” My voice cracked, but the anger kept pushing.

Daddy finally tried to cut in from his wheelchair, “Arielle—”

“Don’t, Daddy.” My finger jabbed the air. I turned back to Damien, still fuming. “You don’t just show up and start throwing punches in my house. Who even are you?”

He stood straighter, like he was reporting for duty. “Pardon my unruly entrance. My name is Damien, and I came here for one reason.” He reached into his jacket, and my eyes widened until I saw what he pulled out.

My phone.

“I believe this is yours.”

I snatched it out of his hand so fast, I almost dropped it. “Oh my God. Finally, do you know I’ve been looking for this everywhere?”

I shoved it into my purse and immediately fished out some cash. I tossed the bills at him like he was still my driver. They fluttered down, hitting the floor between us.

He didn’t even blink. He just looked down at the money, then back up at me.

Daddy’s voice was sharp. “Arielle, I didn’t raise you that way.”

“Daddy, please. He should’ve caught it when he had the chance. Pick it up and leave,” I snapped, folding my arms.

But the man didn’t move at my words. “I don't want your money, miss.” His voice was low when he spoke. “What I want is very simple. Just two words.”

I tilted my head. “Two words?”

“Yes. Say ‘Thank you.’”

I let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “Why would I thank you for something you were already supposed to do? I knew you’d bring it back eventually because I could easily find your details on the app. You couldn’t run from me.” I lied, unwilling to back down to him.

But that was when he smirked, this small, dangerous smirk that made my stomach flip against my will. “Except I was never a driver.”

My face dropped upon the realization that I had no more cards left to play. Before I could think of a single word to throw back, he hard already turned, ready to walk away.

“Wait.” Daddy’s voice stopped him halfway to the door. His tone was now different, more serious. “I have a proposition for you.”

My eyes snapped to him. “What?”

Daddy looked at Damien, ignoring my glare. “Your fighting skills are really impressive.”

“Thank you, sir. I served in the military.” He replied curtly.

“That explains it.” Dad smiled faintly. “I want to hire you as my daughter’s personal bodyguard. Name your price.”

My jaw hit the floor. “Excuse me? Bodyguard? Daddy, absolutely not. I don’t need one.”

“You do.” He said in the voice that usually left no room for argument. “You think I fell by accident? No, Arielle. I didn't want to put you in a state of panick, but I was attacked. I’ve been getting threats for weeks. And if they ever get close to you–” He broke off, his hands gripping the wheelchair’s arms. “I can’t take that risk. I would never forgive myself.”

I blinked, my heart racing. “Daddy, I’m an adult. It’s not fair for you to make decisions for me. I can make them on my own.”

“You either agree to have a bodyguard or you don’t step foot outside this house again. Those are the only options.”

The room went dead silent. And then Damien, still standing tall with that infuriating calmness, glanced at me with those gray eyes.

“So,” he asked softly, “what’s it going to be?”