Governing the She-Devil

8 Bodyguard

Sandro cleared his throat to suppress the surging emotions caused by her compliment. "It's been three years since you graduated high school. That's enough gap year, in my opinion."

He slowly put the brochures down on the coffee table with smooth precision. It was only then that Saint saw a list of the most prestigious schools in the area. These schools were known for their successful graduates in business, the sciences, and the media.

"Here are a few curated choices you have," Sandro added. He was trying to read her face. To loosen the heavy atmosphere, he sat opposite her and rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to get a better view of her face.

"I don't want to attend any of those schools." Saint did not give much attention to the papers. She had this conversation with her father. She won't have it again. Wait, did my father coax my husband into this?

"Well, do you have other schools in mind? How about abroad?" Sandro extended his patience.

If not for Theodore telling him about this matter, he would never have asked. But now that he was aware of it, he decided to take it into his hands. After all, they are married. The moment he married Saint, she became his responsibility.

Saint slumped on the sofa. "Nope," she said, popping the 'P.' "I don't plan to go back to school." She didn't enjoy school. She's not that smart either. Going back is like sending herself to the depths of hell. "We are all aware of the eight-year age gap between you and me, but why do you suddenly sound like my nagging father?"

Sandro, on the other hand, was trying to keep calm as his patience got thinner with every passing second. But he decided to hold unto the sliver of hope he had for Saint.

"So, what are your plans? Humour me."

He knew a lot of college dropout success stories. A lot of people are now going into business without college degrees. Maybe it was something Saint would want to try for herself. If that interests her, he would be willing to support her and give her the capital she needed.

Saint took a deep breath and straightened her posture. She held up her chin. "Well, my original plan was to live off my father's riches and be a stay-at-home-daughter, but then you married me. So, I decided that aside from leeching off my father, I could also be your sugar baby."

Those words went out of Saint's mouth like it was well thought of. Listeners would even feel a sense of pride in every word.

It was Sandro's final straw. His jaw dropped, almost detaching from its sockets. His sliver of hope fell into a dark abyss. How can he marry such a woman without vision?

"You're just eight years older than me. Technically, you can't be my sugar daddy. But all you need to do is support all my capriciousness, and I'll consider you one." Saint smiled proudly. All the plans she laid out were her brain babies. I'm smart, not gonna lie.

Sandro abruptly stood up from his seat. "You have to come up with a decision. Go back to school or live your life without any of our support. I'll freeze your bank accounts right now." His footsteps were heavier than usual as he approached the grand staircase. How did he manage to trap himself in this hell hole?

As if he remembered something, he stopped midway and turned to look at Saint. "You will never be my sugar baby."

"Then who's the sugar you'll baby?" Saint shouted from the top of her lungs, but she got no response. She hugged the throw pillow and sank into deep thought.

If I can't be his sugar baby, does it mean that he already has one? Or two? She gasped at her thought. "Or maybe three?"

The thought of Sandro having multiple mistresses during the first week of their marriage clouded her thoughts for the whole afternoon. She could never let him have mistresses. It might ruin her plans. She hadn't made plans regarding Eli's expected defeat yet.

Speaking of Eli, she suddenly remembered something. How could she forget such crucial information. Instances like this made her think about whether she was born stupid. Maybe she got it from her father's genes.

Saint did not notice that she has been immersed in her thoughts for hours. She stood up and suddenly felt the numbing of her right leg due to sitting on it for a long time. She did not mind it much and hopped in one foot up the grand staircase to look for Sandro.

Upon reaching their room, she put her numb leg down and found that it has recovered. She pushed her head and took a peek inside but found not a single trace of Sandro. Instead, she found a mysterious hole beside the tall bookshelf, which she never noticed before.

Curiosity drove her to check it. It was an adjacent door leading to a huge library. In the middle of the room was a larger version of the mahogany table Sandro had in their room.

Sandro felt her cat-like footsteps. "Come in," he said without glancing at her. He was still annoyed by her immaturity. He couldn't believe that he just knotted the rest of his life with this woman.

"You have an impressive office, but why do you always work in the bedroom?" Her eyes roamed around the different peculiar things she saw. There were statues and artefacts. It was more like a museum than an office or library.

"Because I want to work where I can see you." It was too late when he realized that Saint may have misunderstood his answer. He decided to work around her because he wanted to observe her and get to know her better. It was like hitting two birds with one stone.

His words lit a lightbulb in her head. It was a eureka moment for Saint "Is that so? Then hire me as your bodyguard."

Sandro finally put down the documents he was reading and looked straight into her face. He was trying to discern her sudden burst of words. "I don't need a bodyguard."

Saint pouted. "But you said that you want to work while seeing me. You can do that with a bodyguard. Also, elections are coming," Saint stopped and counted, "...in a year. People might try to kill you."

His forehead creased at her words. "Is Eli planning to kill me?"

"Huh? I didn't say that." Is he aware of Eli's threat to his life?

"You implied it." He stood from his seat. "Your cousin is the only person who will benefit if I die before the elections." Sandro was not surprised. He already expected the worst to happen.

"So, let me be your bodyguard?" She grinned happily as she felt him slowly agreeing.

"But how are you going to protect me?" Sandro closed the distance between them. Saint realized how she barely reached his chest. Her petite body looked like a mosquito to his statuesque stature. She looked up at his face and was speechless by its features.

Seeing how Saint suddenly turned unresponsive, Sandro held her waist tightly and whispered in her ear, "You're hired."

"Huh? What?"

He took a step back once he caught her attention again. "But you have to train under General Pius." It was not for his safety but hers. It would be better if Saint knew basic combat skills before the elections. The opposing party might go after his wife.