Chapter Five
1032 Words
Sophia’s POV
The heavy gates of the Langford estate yawned open after a full five minutes of armed guards pacing the perimeter and inspecting my ID. I could feel their eyes crawl over me—judging, assessing, doubting.
I didn’t blame them.
In my short black dress, stiletto boots, and the whisper of perfume on my skin, I could have been anyone. So, they needed to be certain of of identity.
"Protocol," one guard grunted, stepping close enough that his breath stirred a loose strand of my hair. His hand skimmed my thigh, patting for concealed weapons.
"Careful," I warned sweetly, clear blue eyes flashing up at him. "Touch anything you're not supposed to, and I'll break your wrist."
He chuckled but took a respectful step back. Another guard, older and meaner-looking, eyed me suspiciously.
"What’s your business here?" he asked, even though he already knew.
"Margaret sent me," I said smoothly, giving a small smile. "I'm the close protection you’ve been waiting for."
They didn’t argue. That said enough.
The front door loomed ahead, massive, dark, imposing. I barely raised my hand to knock before it swung open—and there she was.
Vivica Langford.
Even more stunning in person.
Long brown hair fell in rich waves down her back, and those green eyes—God, those arresting green eyes—pinned me to the spot like a bullet between the ribs.
I had gone through Vivica Langford's pictures littered online, read everything I could about her. Due to how perfect pictures could be enhanced to look, I hadn't expected her to look so gorgeous in person. She wore black too: fitted, powerful, dangerous.
"What the hell is this?" she said, her voice like cold steel.
Sophia Blackwell, ma'am," I replied lightly. "Sent by Margaret. I’m your new shadow." I wasn't going to allow her intimidate me.
Vivica's gaze raked over me, unimpressed. Her mouth curled into something between a sneer and a smirk. "I don't need a damn babysitter. And especially not one that looks like she belongs on a pole."
The door inched shut.
I planted my foot in the way, grinning.
"Look, I know you're used to bossing everyone around, and having things go your way," I said, my voice low, coaxing. "But this is bigger than your pride and excessive need to control things."
Her green eyes flared dangerously.
"Hell," I continued, leaning closer, letting her smell the subtle musk of my perfume, "I might be the only thing standing between you and a bullet right now. So, you better let me in—or I'll do that myself.
Those are the only options you have, Madame Vivica.
So, choose one."
For a second, pure fury danced across her face. She hated being given ultimatums. I could see it in the rigid line of her jaw, the way her fingers twitched at her side.
" You dare to give me an order?" She asked in a voice low enough to send shivers up my spine.
"Yes ma'am. I'm here to catch a bullet for you. And I won't let you stand in my way of that."
My words produced the desired effect. She looked mildly surprised, caught off guard.
"I don't need some plaything following me around," Vivica snapped. Her voice had a lot less heat now.
"Really?" I murmured, c*****g my head. "Is that why you had a man shot on your porch? Is that why you’re hiding behind five guards and a panic room?"
Her jaw clenched.
The door pushed harder against my foot.
I leaned in, my voice dropping to a throaty whisper.
"You need me, Vivica Langford. You need someone who won't flinch when the bullets start flying. Someone who can blend into your world... your life... your bed, if necessary."
Her pupils darkened, the slightest hitch in her breath betraying her.
"And let's be honest," I added silkily, "you don't want a stiff, hulking man breathing down your neck every minute. You want someone who can slip into the shadows when you need space... and step into the light when you need something more."
Her lashes lowered slightly—half disdain, half curiosity.
"I'm trained to anticipate every threat before it reaches you," I said. "To move with you. To feel when something's wrong before you even notice it."
I stepped closer, closing the last few inches between us, enough that the hem of her dress brushed my thigh.
"And besides," I whispered, voice almost a caress, "don't you want someone beautiful protecting you?"
Vivica's hand tightened around the door—but she didn’t slam it shut.
Progress.
"You're confident," she said coolly, but her voice had a frayed edge now. "I'll give you that."
"I’m good," I corrected gently, offering the barest hint of a smirk. "At everything."
"Are you now?" She purred.
My n*****s tightened underneath the sleek top I had on at the pure seduction in her voice.
"You'll see." I muttered.
"But I'm still not letting you in my house. For all I know, you could be an assassin, sent to kill me. I won't endanger the life of my daughter—"
A loud bang pierced the air and I acted on pure instinct knocking her down and shielding her body with mine.
I heard a loud groan, and several shouts.
"f**k!" I muttered as I looked down at Vicica Langford, whose eyes were wide with fear, and whose heart pounded hard against mine.
"Hope this clears your doubt now. I am not one of the bad guys." I smirked, but Vivica's eyes were wide with fear and worry.
"My daughter, I have to get to her." She muttered.
"Do you have a gun?"
She nodded.
"Tell me where it is."
"The last room down the hallway." She said as she began to crawl on her hands and knees towards what I assumed was her daughter's room.
"And don't you dare touch anything." She paused to say, her eyes threatening, despite that fear that still lurked in them.
"Noted ma'am."
"And you better try to stay alive."
I smirked at her as I ran towards the room down the hallway. "I don't plan to commit suicide, ma'am."
- Writer
