A Bodyguard For The Misogynist

Collision At The Estate

Dragging my luggage across the marble driveway, I felt my chest tighten with every step. The massive iron gates of the Harrison Estate loomed ahead, their black iron interlaced with gold accents that gleamed under the sun. Even the air here seemed different, heavier somehow, infused with a sense of wealth, control, and danger. I paused for a fraction of a second, gripping the handle of my suitcase, trying to steady my racing heart. I had faced threats, danger, even death before—but this… this was different.

This was the world for the rich .And I was about to step into it.

My eyes traveled over the vast estate as I inhaled deeply, trying to absorb the enormity of the place. The sprawling gardens, perfectly manicured, stretched endlessly before the massive mansion. Every detail—every column, every window, every polished surface—screamed precision and power. It was beautiful, yes, but it also radiated an unwelcoming coldness, a silent warning that anyone stepping inside was entering a territory governed by rules they didn’t set.

I took a deep breath and knocked firmly at the front door. The sound echoed, almost swallowed by the cavernous space behind the massive wood. My stomach twisted. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around and run, yet another part of me reminded me why I was here: Jasmine. My little girl’s health, her safety, the chance at a life free from fear—everything depended on this job.

The door creaked open, and I was met with the gaze of the butler. His eyes widened the moment he saw me, lips parting slightly as recognition flickered. My pulse quickened. For a brief moment, I thought my identity had been compromised, that someone had already recognized me. I gripped the handles of my suitcase tightly, forcing myself to remain calm.

“Right this way, madam,” he said softly, a flicker of urgency in his movements.

I followed him inside, each step making the grandeur of the estate more oppressive. Marble floors, polished to perfection, reflected my own nervous expression back at me. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings like frozen waterfalls, glittering in the light. The walls were adorned with portraits of stern ancestors, each gaze seeming to follow me as I walked. Despite the beauty, there was an undeniable sterility—a cold, unyielding order—that made my skin prickle.

The butler’s eyes occasionally flicked toward me, glimmers of recognition dancing in them. I realized what it was: the matriarch must have sent him my photo, a precaution, ensuring the safety of the young master’s new bodyguard. My heart skipped a beat at the thought, but I had no time to dwell. I had to focus.

I stepped into the main hall and froze.

Zane Harrison. Shirtless. His abs defined and sharp, the lines of his chest and arms sculpted with near-impossible precision. Sunlight from the tall windows caught his skin, making it glow. My breath caught. My hands froze on my luggage.

Hell no. No. No. No.

This was him. Zayne Harrison. The man I had shared one reckless, unforgettable night with six years ago. My body tensed. Memories flooded in—the heat, the thrill, the dangerous excitement that had lingered long after we’d parted ways. My mind scrambled, but I forced myself to focus. This was a job. Nothing more.

He froze too. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a heartbeat, the world shrank to just the two of us. There was recognition there, unspoken and undeniable. Familiarity surged through me in a wave of panic and longing I wasn’t ready to face.

He started toward me, his steps deliberate, predatory. My pulse quickened. Each footfall was like a drumbeat in my chest, reminding me of what I’d left behind and what I was stepping back into.

“Who… who are you?” His voice was low, commanding, yet held a curiosity I hadn’t expected.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “My… My name is Anna. I’m the bodyguard assigned to this estate,” I stammered, forcing the words out.

His brow arched slightly, and a faint flicker of something—recognition, confusion—passed through his sharp gaze. “And the reason you need this job?” he asked, stepping closer, eyes scanning me as if trying to see more than just my face, to pierce straight to the truth beneath.

I drew a deep breath and squared my shoulders, reminding myself that this was professional. “I’m here to work. That’s it.” My voice, though shaky inside, sounded confident. “…If you have any problem with that, then that’s your problem, not mine.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the storm inside him shifted. He tilted his head slightly, considering my words. “I see,” he murmured, voice low, calculating. “I’ll be the one you’ll be bodyguarding.”

Shock hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back slightly, my mind spinning. He caught me by the waist, holding me with a familiarity that shouldn’t have existed. But there was no disgust, no hesitation in him as he held me. Confusion and old memories stirred uncomfortably inside me.

I pushed him away immediately, regaining my space. My heart raced, and my mind screamed at me to stay calm. This is business. Nothing else.

He smirked, dark and unreadable, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “So, tell me,” he said, voice teasing, edged with authority, “are you here because of me? Because you want my attention, or because you want the money?”

Anger flared hot in my chest. I squared my shoulders, stared him in the eyes, and replied firmly, “Don’t you dare repeat that. I’m not here for any rubbish. I’m here for business. That’s all.”

He sighed, the storm behind his eyes flickering with annoyance. “Leave,” he ordered, sharp and unwavering. “You’re not welcome here.”

I didn’t flinch. “I’m not leaving,” I said, voice firm. “You’re not my boss. You didn’t hire me. I was sent here for a job. That’s it.”

He froze, a dark chuckle escaping him. “You’re in for everything that comes your way then.” he said smoothly, gesturing toward his office. “Come to my office in two minutes.”

I exhaled shakily, gripping my luggage tighter than ever. As he turned and strode out of the room, I sank briefly to my knees, trying to gather myself. What had I gotten myself into? That familiar face… that was Zayne Harrison, the man I had shared one night with.

The butler returned, silently guiding me through the estate, showing me to my room and explaining directions. The halls were quiet, eerily so, the kind of silence that pressed on my ears and made every heartbeat loud. Everyone kept their distance, no one spoke.

Finally, I was led to the CEO’s office. Zayne was already there, reviewing my resume. His sharp gaze flicked up at me as I entered.

“Anna Smith, twenty-seven years old. Single. No relationship,” he said flatly, his eyes scanning me. “That’s nice.”

I confirmed everything, professional and calm. “Yes, sir. Everything is correct.”

He leaned back, eyes calculating, voice low. “Know your limits. Your job is to protect me. That is your only concern.”

“I understand,” I replied, making sure my voice carried confidence.

He waved dismissively. “Good.”

As I turned to leave, his phone buzzed. He answered—it was his mother.

“Have you seen the lady?” she asked.

I held my breath.

A small, dark chuckle escaped him. “Yes. I’ve seen her. I’ve decided to recruit her.”

Relief softened her voice. “I knew you wouldn’t be angry once you saw her. She’s very good at her job.”

Zane hung up, still smiling faintly, a hint of amusement playing at the corner of his lips. Beneath it, though, there was something unplaceable—a flicker of recognition, of memory, that he couldn’t yet name. Immediately I left, He called his assistant, tasking him with a quick investigation on the new bodyguard.

Walking through the vast halls of the Harrison Estate, I reminded myself firmly: I was here for business. Nothing else. No past. No mistakes. Only my daughter. Only her future.