PART 1 OF 3

The Bodyguard I Didn’t Want

When the man hired to protect you becomes the one you can’t protect your heart from.

Chapter 1: The Party That Never Was

Hi, I’m Sasha. Popular singer, daughter of the wealthiest parents in town, and currently living my best life—or so everyone thinks. Selling out concerts weekly and dealing with fans around the world might sound glamorous, but you know what’s even better? Partying all night long without a care in the world.

That’s exactly what I was planning when I snuck out in the middle of my concert with my boyfriend Theo. The biggest island party of the year was happening, and I wasn’t about to miss it just because I had a show.

“This is going to be epic,” I squealed as we drove through the city. “I can’t wait to—”

My excitement died the moment Theo pulled over to a helicopter pad.

“Wait, what are you doing? I thought we were taking a yacht.”

He turned to me with that infuriatingly casual smile. “It’s a five-minute ride. You’re just being melodramatic.”

“Theo, you know I have a phobia of heights. I can’t—”

“Get over it. Enjoy the party without this drama queen act.”

The words hit me like a slap. Drama queen? I stared at him, waiting for an apology, for him to acknowledge that he’d just dismissed my genuine fear like it was nothing. Instead, he started walking toward the helicopter.

“Babe, come on. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

But the damage was done. I turned and stormed off, ignoring his calls behind me. If he couldn’t respect my boundaries, then he didn’t deserve my time.

Chapter 2: The First Threat

As I walked back through the city streets, trying to cool down, I noticed someone following me. A figure in a hooded jacket, staying about twenty feet behind, matching my pace.

Fear wasn’t something I was familiar with. I’d grown up privileged, protected, always surrounded by people. So instead of running, I grabbed my stiletto heel and spun around.

“Why are you hiding? Are you scared? Don’t worry—I don’t bite!”

The figure didn’t respond. Instead, they threw something at me and ran. It hit my chest and fell to the ground—a magazine. My magazine, to be specific. The one with my face on the cover from last month’s Vogue shoot.

I picked it up, and my blood ran cold.

Someone had drawn all over my face. Red marker, violent slashes across my eyes and throat. And in angry capital letters across the bottom: “YOU’RE NEXT.”

“What the actual—”

I looked around, but the hooded figure had vanished into the shadows. My hands were shaking as I stared at the defaced magazine. This wasn’t a joke. Someone out there hated me enough to threaten me.

But I wasn’t about to let some coward with a marker scare me. I was Sasha freaking Morrison. I’d dealt with hate comments and jealous rivals my entire career. This was probably just some harmless loser looking for attention.

Right?

Chapter 3: Enter Damon

The threats kept coming over the weekend. More defaced magazines, creepy letters slipped under my door, even a dead bouquet of roses left on my car. My parents had always wanted to hire a bodyguard for me, but I’d refused. The idea of some boring old security guard following me around 24/7 sounded like a nightmare.

But this time, they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Sasha, this is serious,” my father said, his voice stern. “Someone is targeting you, and we’re not taking any chances.”

“Fine,” I sighed dramatically. “But if he’s some old guy with a beer gut, I’m firing him on day one.”

When the doorbell rang Monday morning, I dragged myself downstairs, already dreading the sight of whatever retired cop my parents had hired.

I opened the door and almost passed out.

Standing on my doorstep was the most exquisite specimen of a man I had ever seen. Tall—easily over six feet. Broad shoulders that filled out his black suit perfectly. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and eyes that were an impossible shade of steel gray. He looked like he’d stepped out of a cologne commercial, not a security agency.

“Hey, handsome,” I said, recovering quickly. “Are you sure you’re a bodyguard and not my next boyfriend?”

To my surprise, he didn’t smile. Didn’t even blink. Just stared at me with that cold, professional expression.

Rude.

“You look too young for this job,” I continued, crossing my arms. “How can I trust you?”

Just then, a ball came hurtling toward me from our neighbor’s yard. Before I could even register what was happening, his hand shot out and caught it mid-air. One hand. Didn’t even look.

“Trust me,” he said in a deep, measured voice. “I’m really good at my job. You can check my records—your father has everything you need.”

I blinked. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Let’s go.”

He opened the car door for me, and as I slipped inside, I accidentally brushed my shoulder against his chest.

Holy—it felt harder than a rock. This man was built like a tank wrapped in an Armani suit.

Chapter 4: Jealous Much?

When we arrived at school, Theo was waiting by the entrance. The moment he saw me step out of the car with my new bodyguard, his expression darkened.

He pulled me aside, his grip a little too tight on my arm. “Look, babe, I know I insulted you the other night, but getting back at me by flirting with another guy? How could you?”

I yanked my arm free. “He’s my bodyguard, Theo. I’m still mad at you for what you did, and now you’re accusing me of cheating?”

“Oh, please. I saw how you looked at him. You’re not fooling anyone—”

Suddenly, Damon stepped between us. “Is there a problem here?”

Theo’s face turned red. “Stay out of this, man.”

He tried to push Damon aside, but in one fluid motion, Damon grabbed Theo’s wrist, twisted, and had him pinned face-first against the wall.

“What the hell?! Let go of me, idiot!”

“Hey, stop it!” I grabbed Damon’s arm. “Let him go!”

Damon released him after a tense moment, and Theo immediately went psycho. He charged at Damon, fists flying, but I stepped between them.

“That’s enough, Theo! He’s just doing his job!”

“Why do you need a bodyguard when you have me? I’m your boyfriend! I’ll protect you!”

A small spider suddenly landed on his shoulder. Theo screamed like a little girl and ran down the hallway, swatting at himself frantically.

I turned to Damon, fighting back a laugh. “Yeah, I feel so protected.”

For the briefest second, I could have sworn I saw his lips twitch. Almost like he wanted to smile.

Almost.

Chapter 5: No Privacy

As I walked down the hallway with Damon trailing behind me, I could hear the whispers.

“Oh my god, who is that?”

“He looks more like a model than a bodyguard.”

“He can be the father of my children.”

“He’s way more attractive than Theo.”

“I really want to feel his biceps.”

The girls sounded desperate, but honestly? They weren’t wrong. Damon was stupidly attractive, and the fact that he showed zero interest in anyone made him even more intriguing.

When I reached my classroom, my best friend Tessa was waiting with my favorite coffee.

“Hey, girl! I brought you your—”

Damon suddenly snatched it from her hands. He sniffed it, took a sip, and waited a few seconds before handing it back to me.

“Clear.”

Tessa glared at him. “Excuse me? Did you really think I would poison my best friend?”

“Just doing my job.”

Tessa dragged me to a corner, shooting daggers at Damon with her eyes.

“So you’re giving up your privacy just like that? I can see that he’s attractive, but something about him screams bad news. He even sounds like a demon. You have to get rid of him ASAP.”

“Oh, come on, Tessa. It’s just his first day. Let’s see how it goes.”

But Tessa was right. I didn’t have a second of privacy anymore. Damon followed me everywhere—to every class, standing at the back like a silent sentinel. To the bathroom, where he’d wait outside the door. Even at home, he stationed himself outside my bedroom.

I never saw him sleep. Never saw him eat. Never saw him do anything remotely human. He just stood there with that permanent ice-cold expression that gave me chills.

Chapter 6: The Autograph Incident

I had a recording session scheduled one night at my producer’s studio downtown. When we arrived, I was exhausted but excited to lay down vocals for my new single.

As I walked toward the entrance, a guy came rushing toward me, grinning widely.

“Sasha! Oh my god, I’m such a huge fan—”

He reached toward his back pocket, and suddenly Damon was there. He grabbed the guy’s arm and twisted it behind his back, slamming him against the wall.

“Drop your weapon!”

“What?! I just wanted an autograph from her, man! Let me go!”

Damon released him, and the poor guy stumbled away, clutching his arm and looking terrified.

I turned to Damon, mortified. “What is wrong with you? I’m a popular singer! You have to get used to my fans approaching me!”

“Just doing my job.”

“Well, your job doesn’t include assaulting innocent people!”

He didn’t respond. Just stood there, expressionless, like a robot who’d been programmed to ruin my life.

Deep breaths, Sasha. Deep breaths.

Chapter 7: The Movie Date Disaster

The next day at school, Theo wouldn’t leave me alone. He followed me everywhere, apologizing profusely, until he finally said the magic words.

“My producer cousin is throwing an exclusive yacht party this weekend with some A-listers. She’s a fan of yours and would be ecstatic if you came.”

He had my attention. Parties were my weakness.

“Fine,” I sighed. “But you’re making it up to me properly. Tomorrow. Just us.”

Theo requested that I not bring Damon on our date, so I tried to talk to him in private that night.

“Look, I know you take your job seriously, but I need one night without you hovering over me. Just a few hours.”

“My job is not to leave your side for a minute. Sorry. Can’t do it.”

“Damon, please—”

“No.”

That was it. Just “no.” No explanation, no compromise, nothing.

I gave up and let him come with us. What choice did I have?

We went to a private movie theater to watch the latest tearjerker everyone was talking about. Theo and I were sitting together, holding hands, trying to pretend everything was normal. Damon sat three seats away, stone-faced.

Minutes into the movie, Theo and I were already crying our hearts out. The main character’s dog died, and it was devastating. I was sobbing into Theo’s shoulder while he wiped his eyes.

Damon? Zero reaction. Not a single tear. Not even a flinch.

Was he human?

After the movie, we went to a fancy restaurant. I was finally starting to relax, enjoying my lobster and trying to forget about my stone-cold bodyguard sitting at the table behind us.

That’s when Theo started getting handsy.

“Just one kiss, babe. Come on.”

“Not now, Theo. We’re in public, and people are staring.”

But he was persistent, leaning in closer despite my protests. His hand was on my thigh, and I was about to push him away when suddenly—

Damon grabbed him by the collar and threw him away from me like he weighed nothing.

Theo crashed into an empty chair, stunned. Then his expression twisted with rage. He grabbed another chair, raising it above his head, clearly planning to smash it over Damon.

I jumped up and pushed myself between them. “Stop it right now! Both of you!”

“Your stupid bodyguard started it! Why don’t you tell him to get a life and go home to his mommy?!”

“No, Theo. You go home.”

I called him a cab and stood there with my arms crossed until he left, muttering angrily the entire time.

When he was finally gone, I turned to Damon, my anger boiling over.

“I know he was being a jerk, but I can handle my personal life. You don’t have to interfere every second.”

“He was disrespecting your personal space.”

“Your job is to keep me safe, not to meddle in my personal matters! Know your boundaries!”

For the first time, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Regret? Frustration? I couldn’t tell.

“Apologies. It won’t happen again.”

Chapter 8: The Concert Catastrophe

A few days later, I had a major concert at the city’s largest venue. Ten thousand people, live streaming, the works. I was performing my newest single, and the crowd was electric. Everyone was singing along with me, waving their phone lights, and the energy was absolutely incredible.

This was what I lived for. This moment when everything else faded away and it was just me, my music, and thousands of people feeling exactly what I felt.

Some fans started climbing onto the stage to join me—something that happened occasionally. Security usually handled it gently, escorting them back down with a smile.

But suddenly, Damon was there. He jumped onto the stage and started physically pushing fans off. Not gently. Not professionally. Just shoving them back into the crowd.

“What are you doing?!” I screamed into my mic, but it was too late.

Before I could process what was happening, he lifted me—literally picked me up like a sack of potatoes—and carried me off the stage in the middle of my performance.

The crowd erupted in confusion. The music cut off. My band looked at each other, bewildered.

Backstage, Damon set me down, and I exploded.

“My parents are paying you to protect me, not to annoy me and screw up my concerts! Do you have any idea what you just did?!”

“Your life is in danger, ma’am. You have to treat everyone as an enemy.”

“That is ridiculous! Whoever is sending those stupid threats is probably just some harmless loser!”

“Better safe than sorry.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to fire him on the spot. But when I complained to my parents later that night, they praised him.

“He’s just doing his job, honey. Making sure you’re safe all the time.”

“But he’s ruining my career! And my personal life!”

“We’d rather have you alive than famous, sweetheart.”

They were hopeless cases.