EX-HUSBAND'S BOSS FOR VALENTINE

INTEL

ROYAL:

It’s almost unbelievable that I’ve known Melania for only two days, because it feels like I’ve known her forever. I can’t tell if it’s the s*x, but I woke up this morning feeling like granting all her wishes—like a damn genie.

She’s still asleep, sprawled across the bed, gripping the pillow. Her hair is a mess, yet she still looks breathtaking. God, I can’t stop looking at her. Initially, I just wanted her help to get what I deserved from my family, but now, a small voice in my head keeps whispering—telling me to claim her, to make her mine.

I wish it were that easy. She’s stubborn, and somehow, that turns me on every goddamn time. I love watching those full, tempting lips move when she argues with me. It makes me want to grab her, pin her against a surface, and kiss her until she moans my name.

“Argh!”

Her scream pulls me back to reality. I fold the paper in my hand, dropping my foot to the ground before looking at her with a smirk.

“Good morning to you too, Melania.”

She frowns at me, and I ignore her, placing the paper on the nearby stool.

“Why do you keep doing that?” she asks, sitting up.

“What?”

“Watching me while I sleep. It’s creepy.”

I chuckle. “Well, you’re my wife, so I have to make sure you’re okay.”

She rolls her eyes, and I stand, adjusting my jacket. “Regarding our conversation last night, I’ve made up my mind.”

She raises a brow.

“I’ll let you handle everything about the case. You can have a private investigator, and I’ll speak with whoever presides over it to ensure everything remains confidential.”

Her expression softens slightly, and relief flickers in my chest. Women are really this easy, huh?

Last night, she acted like it was a big deal, but agreeing to this one thing has changed everything.

“I’m guessing I’ll still be getting a bodyguard,” she says. I press my lips into a line, and she sighs. “Cool.”

I sit at the edge of the bed, letting out a breath.

“I know you don’t want one, but I don’t want anything happening to you because of me. The family business is dangerous. Even I need protection sometimes.”

“It’s fine.”

I study her face, searching for any sign of resistance.

“No, really, it’s fine,” she repeats. “As long as my case is confidential, I don’t mind having a bodyguard.”

“Great.” I slip my hands into my pockets. “Since you’re okay with it, he’s downstairs.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“The bodyguard is downstairs, and he starts today. According to Brady, you have a meeting with your divorce attorney, Sylvie Grant.”

She blinks, processing the information, then nods.

I reach for her hand, and she hesitates for a moment.

“Let’s have breakfast.”

She forces a small smile, and I lead her downstairs. Servants move around, attending to their duties as we reach the ground floor.

“Callum!” I call out.

A tall man by the door moves toward us.

“Good morning, sir.” He bows slightly, then turns to Melania. “Good morning, ma’am.”

“Good morning, Callum,” I respond with a straight face. Melania says nothing.

“This is Callum Reid, your new bodyguard.”

Callum removes his sunglasses, bowing again.

“At your service, ma’am.”

I catch Melania staring at him for a second too long, her mouth ajar, as if she’s been hypnotized.

Is she attracted to him?

The thought irritates me, and I shake it off.

“Callum will be here to protect you, but he won’t invade your personal space. Let him know your boundaries,” I say.

She glances at me, then back at Callum, nodding slightly.

That ambiguous feeling returns, settling like a rock in my chest.

“Let’s eat,” I say, guiding her to the dining room.

We sit down for breakfast, but the entire time, I can’t shake the thought that hiring Callum might have been a mistake.

Maybe I should’ve chosen a female bodyguard.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, studying me.

I force a smile, shaking my head as I lift my cup of tea to my lips.

“That reminds me,” she says. “You claim you don’t check the tabloids, but you read a paper every day, so…”

“My newspaper is custom made,” I explain. “It only gives me important updates—stocks, market trends, financial news, things like that.”

“Oh.”

Before she can say anything else, my phone rings, and I see it’s Brady calling, and I ignore it, but a text immediately follows.

“I’ve got intel on Melania’s ex-husband.”

I shut off my phone and stand abruptly.

“I need to get to work.”

Without waiting for a response, I walk away.

I know I said I’d let her handle the case, but I can’t stop thinking about that bastard. And now, I need to know who he is.