OOPS, MY BODYGUARD HUSBAND IS A BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 2

Hazel’s heart skipped a beat as she stared at her newlywed husband, Michael. His tall, imposing figure loomed in the doorway, his black suit and bloodstained face creating an eerie contrast to the sterile luxury of the hotel room. He was no mere bodyguard. Michael was a man of extraordinary skills, known to take on ten opponents at once, a brutal fighter who had once snapped the neck of a cheetah with his bare hands.

Hazel’s breath caught in her throat. Her uncle, Matthew, had arranged her marriage to Michael not out of love, but to recruit him into the Martinez Family’s fold. He wanted Michael’s deadly skills to secure the family's future. She had been nothing more than a pawn in that game.

Ryan was momentarily stunned, his confidence cracking under the pressure of Michael's presence. “Michael, you…” Ryan stammered, his voice laced with disbelief.

Without acknowledging Ryan’s outburst, Michael's voice cut through the tension like a knife. “President Wood, the boss asked me to pass along a message.” His tone was calm, indifferent, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. “A major client is coming next month to discuss a partnership. You’re expected to handle the reception personally.” Michael casually placed a high-end private club business card on the table, the simple action dripping with authority.

Ryan sneered, attempting to regain his composure. “What does it matter if you’re powerful, Michael?” He scoffed, his disdain palpable. “You’re nothing but a dog raised by the Martinez Family!”

Impatience flickered across Michael’s face, but his posture remained unchanged. Ryan, now irritated by the lack of reaction, pulled out a black card and threw it onto the floor at Michael’s feet. “Alright, alright,” he said, his voice thick with scorn. “I know what you want. This card’s got three million in it—enough to last you thirty years. Take it, buy some wine, find some women, and have a good time. Tonight, Hazel belongs to me.”

Hazel’s face burned with anger, and she couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Ryan, shut up!” she yelled, her voice breaking with emotion.

But Michael merely glanced at the card, then bent down and picked it up. The motion was casual, almost dismissive.

Ryan’s sneer deepened as he turned to Hazel. “See that? Your precious husband is just a poor man. Money is what drives him, not you. You’ll suffer with him, Hazel. Why not just be with me? I can give you everything—except the title, of course.”

Hazel’s face reddened in fury. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Without warning, she slapped him across the face with all her strength. “How dare you?” she shouted, her voice shaking.

Ryan’s eyes darkened with rage. He grabbed her arm and twisted it, his grip sharp and unforgiving. “Get out of here, Michael, or I’ll fire you tomorrow!”

Before Hazel could react, Ryan shoved her roughly onto the bed. Her body slammed against the mattress, and her breath was knocked from her chest. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. She kicked and struggled, but Ryan was too heavy, too strong. At nineteen, Hazel’s slender frame was no match for him.

But just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, a chilling presence filled the room. Michael’s cold, unwavering gaze locked onto Ryan, and without a word, he moved toward the bed.

Hazel’s heart pounded in her chest. Michael’s face was a mask of icy detachment. His gloved hand shot out, gripping Ryan by the back of the head, his fingers wrapping around Ryan’s short hair with terrifying precision.

Ryan’s eyes widened in panic as Michael slowly, deliberately, began to pull his head back.

“Let go, let go!” Ryan screamed, his voice cracking with desperation.

Michael’s voice was calm, almost bored. “President Wood, I’ll be waiting for you to fire me tomorrow.”

And then, with a brutal, crushing motion, Michael slammed Ryan’s face into the corner of the bedside table.

*Bang!*

Ryan’s scream was cut off by the sickening c***k of bone against wood, and blood splattered across the room.

Michael didn’t stop. He gripped Ryan’s hair tighter, lifting his head again before bringing it down a second time with savage force.

“Ahh!” Ryan’s cry echoed through the room, a high-pitched wail of agony.

The room was filled with the sickening sound of Ryan’s skull slamming against the solid wood. Blood sprayed across Michael’s face, but he didn’t even flinch. He remained composed, his expression unchanging as he continued his relentless assault.

Hazel’s breath hitched in her throat. She was frozen, rooted to the spot in sheer terror. Every scream, every brutal slam made her stomach turn. The smell of blood filled the air. She couldn’t look away, yet she felt every ounce of her strength drain from her.

The room fell silent, the air thick with the stench of blood and terror. Ryan’s body lay motionless on the floor, his face unrecognizable, his eyes rolled back in his head.

Michael stood up straight, as if the entire incident had been beneath his notice. He glanced down at the bloodied mess that had once been Ryan, his face as cold and emotionless as ever. Without a word, he casually tossed Ryan aside like a ragdoll, his body thumping onto the floor with a sickening thud.

Hazel was still trembling, her heart racing as her wide eyes met Michael’s gaze. His bloodied face was terrifying, but what struck her the most was the cold, detached look in his eyes. It was as if Ryan’s screams had been nothing more than background noise to him.

“Don’t come any closer,” Hazel whispered, her voice barely audible, as Michael took a step toward her. The words left her mouth before she could stop them, her fear overwhelming her logic. She scooted back on the bed, desperate to escape his approach.

But Michael didn’t stop. He was unyielding, as always. Hazel’s pulse raced, her mind spinning with horror. What would he do now? Would he punish her for being with Ryan? For being a pawn in this cruel game?

Hazel tried to flee, but the moment her foot hit the floor, a sharp pain shot up her ankle. She stumbled, a cry of pain escaping her lips, and would have fallen if not for Michael’s strong, unrelenting grip around her waist.

He didn’t say a word as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. Hazel’s heart skipped in panic. She hadn’t expected this. Was he going to kill her next?

Her mind raced with terrifying possibilities. What was he going to do to her? Was he going to throw her out of the building? Or was this just the beginning of her punishment?

But Michael didn’t seem angry. His grip was firm, yet not punishing. His eyes, dark as the night, flickered with something unreadable as he carefully adjusted her in his arms.

“Your foot is twisted. If you move too much, it will swell,” he said in a low, emotionless voice, as if he were discussing something trivial. Then, without another word, he carried her out of the room.

Hazel remained frozen in his arms, her fingers clutching his collar in blind panic. She didn’t know whether to trust him or fear him more. Was this part of his plan? Was he taking her somewhere to finish what he had started?

As they reached the elevator, two bodyguards stepped aside. Michael flicked his black card toward them without a glance. “Open a bottle of wine. Find some women. Make sure President Wood enjoys this three million.”

Ryan, still unconscious on the floor, groaned at the sound of Michael’s words, his eyes flickering in horror. He had no idea how far Michael would go.

As the elevator doors closed, Michael’s cold, bloodied face remained unreadable. Hazel could only cling to him, her mind filled with a storm of confusion and fear.