In love with an Assassin

Cracks in the glass

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Cracks in the Glass

(Isabella’s POV)

Being in Kevin White’s world felt like living in a glass house—shiny, transparent, and incredibly delicate. From the outside, everything seemed untouchable, yet inside, I could see all the flaws.

I wasn’t just responsible for a billionaire’s safety. I was in the middle of a whirlwind I had done my best to steer clear of for years.

After the street incident, the ride back was pretty quiet. Kevin sat next to me, his grip tight on a glass of whiskey, eyes glued to the city we were passing. I could tell he was questioning me, and honestly, he had every right to. I fought like someone trained for lethal combat, not a bodyguard. Because I was.

When we arrived at the estate, I met some of the people who surrounded him.

First up was Lewis, the head of security. He was older, had sharp eyes, and carried that calm confidence of someone used to being in charge. But when I shook his hand, his grip lingered a bit too long, like he wanted me to understand who called the shots here.

“We’ve got things covered,” he said, giving me a once-over. “But I guess Mr. White likes a little extra protection these days.”

It sounded polite, but I could hear the underlying warning. A guy like him wouldn’t take kindly to me crossing into his territory.

Later, I bumped into Emma, Kevin’s assistant. She was young, polished, and quick to smile. Unlike Lewis, she seemed genuinely happy I was there.

“Mr. White’s been… a bit tense lately,” she whispered when Kevin was out of earshot. “It’s good for him to have someone close by. He won’t admit it, but he’s been scared since the gala.”

Her kindness nearly caught me off guard. Almost. But I couldn’t let my defenses down, not even with someone like her.

The last surprise was Julian Vance. He appeared in Kevin’s office unannounced, grinning like someone who always wins. His suit was flawless, his voice smooth, but his eyes had a predatory gleam.

“Kevin,” he said, patting him on the shoulder. “Good to see you made it through the excitement the other night. Must’ve been a real scare.”

Kevin’s jaw tightened, but he held his ground. He introduced me, and Julian’s smile took on a sharper edge.

“So this is the infamous bodyguard. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. You’re very… efficient.”

His gaze lingered a bit too long, like he was privy to secrets he shouldn’t know. When his sleeve slid just enough, I noticed a scar—a jagged line running from his wrist to his forearm. A similar mark I’d seen on men from The Order.

My heart raced. I forced myself to stay calm, but my stomach twisted. If Julian was somehow linked to The Order, this was more than just a business rivalry—it was personal.

That night, I found it hard to sleep, wandering the estate while Kevin worked in his study. The halls were quiet, filled only with the soft hum of art lights and the ticking of a grand clock. He had shown me his private collection earlier—paintings chosen by his mother, sculptures bought by his father. For someone constantly in the spotlight, his private life was steeped in memories and loss.

And that made him vulnerable.

When I finally checked on him, he was still awake, leaning back in his chair and staring at an almost empty glass. He looked worn out, but when he spotted me in the doorway, he tried to smile.

“Do you ever sleep, Isabella?” he asked.

“Do you?” I shot back.

He chuckled softly, then sighed. “Fair point. You know, I thought hiring you would make me feel safer, but instead, I just keep wondering who you really are.”

His words hit harder than I expected. It wasn’t an accusation—he seemed to be searching for something, maybe even reaching out.

For a moment, I almost spilled my secrets. Almost. But the memories of blood, The Order, and what I had done to escape locked my mouth tight.

Instead, I replied, “I’m the one making sure you wake up tomorrow.”

He studied me for what felt like a long time before nodding. “That’s the thing. You make me feel like I don’t know whether to thank you… or be afraid of you.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

Later, when the house fell silent, I found myself at the piano in the corner of the lounge. My fingers pressed down, soft and uneven, nothing like the sharp precision I had while fighting. I hadn’t touched music in years, not since before The Order. It felt like reconnecting with a part of myself I had buried deep.

The notes floated through the room, fragile and imperfect, and for the first time in years, I felt something I couldn’t quite contain.

A shadow moved in the doorway. Kevin. He didn’t interrupt, just listened. His expression softened in the dim light, and it startled me more than any weapon could.

Because in that moment, I realized: I wasn’t just protecting him. I was already too close.

And in my world, that was a dangerous place to be.