Chapter Two- The Bodyguard
1198 Words
The storm had broken by morning, leaving Manhattan scrubbed clean under a pale blue sky. From the upper floors of Vance Tower, the city looked deceptively calm, as though the world had not shifted in violent ways since her father’s death.
Amara Vance stood before her office window, arms folded across her chest. Her reflection glared back at her: high cheekbones, flawless makeup, every line of her black suit sharp enough to cut glass. She had not slept. The text message still burned in her mind like a brand.
You’re next.
She had told no one. Not Sophia. Not the board. If her enemies wanted to rattle her, she would not give them the satisfaction.
But she had agreed reluctantly that her head of security could bring in outside help. A professional. An outsider.
The knock came precisely at nine.
“Send him in,” Amara said.
The door opened, and a man stepped inside.
He was taller than she expected. Broad-shouldered, his suit plain but impeccably fitted, dark hair cropped close to his head. His movements were fluid, controlled, the kind that spoke of training and discipline. His face was hard lines and shadow, but it was his eyes that caught her attention. Cold, assessing, as if he were cataloging every detail of her and the room in a heartbeat.
“Miss Vance,” he said, voice low and steady. “I’m Cole Maddox.”
So this was the man her staff insisted she needed.
Amara did not extend her hand. Instead, she turned back to the window, forcing him to face her reflection rather than her eyes. “Mr. Maddox. You come highly recommended.”
“I don’t come at all unless I choose to,” he replied without hesitation.
Her brows lifted. Arrogant. Already, she disliked him.
“Your résumé is impressive,” she said coolly. “Special Forces. Private security. A record of efficiency.”
“I don’t work résumés,” he said. “I get work results.”
Amara finally turned, her gaze cutting to him like a blade. “And what result do you expect here?”
He didn’t flinch. “Keeping you alive.”
The silence stretched, sharp as glass. Her pulse kicked despite herself.
He studied her openly, and she hated the way it felt like being stripped of armor. Few men dared to look at her so directly. Most fawned, or groveled, or recoiled. Cole Maddox did none of those things.
“You should know,” Amara said finally, moving behind her desk, “that I don’t tolerate insubordination. My schedule is demanding, my world complicated. If you’re going to shadow me, you’ll follow my rules.”
He stepped closer, his presence filling the space like gravity. “With respect, Miss Vance, you hired me to keep you breathing. That means my rules, not yours.”
Her lips parted in shock. No one spoke to her like that. Not the board. Not her lawyers. Not even her father, not anymore.
“I don’t pay men to dictate to me,” she snapped.
“I’m not here for your money,” he said flatly. “I’m here for the job. If you don’t like that, find yourself a lapdog. But lapdogs don’t stop bullets.”
The words hung between them, brutal and undeniable.
For the first time in a long time, Amara didn’t know how to respond.
Sophia barged into the office then, heels clattering on marble.
“Amara, the paparazzi are still camping outside the building. They’re saying you looked—” She stopped dead, her gaze locking on Cole.
“Oh.”
Cole inclined his head politely. “Miss Vance.”
Sophia’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me your new security detail was… well.” She gave a low whistle. “Tall, dark, and glowering.”
Amara’s jaw tightened. “Sophia.”
“What?” Sophia said innocently. “I’m just saying, if he’s going to shadow you everywhere, at least he’s nice to look at.”
Cole’s mouth twitched just barely, but he said nothing.
Amara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Go to class, Sophia.”
“I already skipped it.” Sophia dropped onto the sofa, crossing her legs. “Relax, big sister. Not everything is a battle.”
Amara’s throat tightened. Everything is, she wanted to say. But the words stayed locked behind her teeth.
After Sophia left, Amara sat behind the desk, forcing her attention back to Cole.
“You’ll have access to my schedule,” she said briskly. “My staff will coordinate with you. But you will stay invisible. I don’t want board members distracted by your presence.”
“Distraction isn’t my concern,” Cole said. “Blind spots are.”
His gaze drifted to the corners of the office, the windows, the vent shafts. Amara realized he was already mapping exits, vulnerabilities.
“Tell me about the threats,” he said suddenly.
Her heartbeat stuttered. “What makes you think there are threats?”
His eyes met hers. Steady. Unyielding. “There are always threats. The question is whether they’re external or closer to home.”
For a moment, she thought of the text message, the one that had chilled her blood. But she didn’t speak of it. Not yet.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings. Cole shadowed her silently, a dark sentinel at her back. He rarely spoke, but she felt him always watching, measuring, one step behind.
At first, it unnerved her. But as hours wore on, she caught herself stealing glances. The way his posture never faltered. The way his eyes scanned every room, every person, as though danger lurked in every shadow.
And perhaps it did.
By evening, exhaustion pulled at her, but she refused to show it. She exited the boardroom after a grueling negotiation session, only to freeze in the corridor.
Her office door was ajar.
She distinctly remembered locking it.
Cole moved instantly, stepping ahead of her, hand brushing the edge of his jacket in a gesture that told her he carried more than confidence.
He pushed the door open silently.
The office lights were off. Moonlight spilled across the floor through the window, illuminating chaos. Papers scattered across the desk. The decanter shattered on the carpet, amber liquid staining the fibers.
Amara’s chest tightened.
Someone had been here.
Cole entered first, scanning with quick precision. Then he crouched near the desk, picking up a small black device. He held it up to the light.
Her stomach dropped.
It was a listening bug.
Cole’s gaze flicked to hers, sharp as a blade.
“You were right,” he said quietly. “Someone’s watching you.”
Amara’s pulse roared in her ears.
The text message. The shadow in the window. Her father’s sudden death.
All of it was connected.
And now she had no choice but to trust the man standing in her office.
Cole pocketed the bug, his expression unreadable. “From now on, Miss Vance,” he said, voice like iron, “you don’t go anywhere without me.”
And for the first time in her life, Amara realized she wasn’t in control anymore.
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