serious handsome security guard talking by portable radio
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PART 3 OF 3 – FINALE

The Betrayal

Sometimes the people closest to us are the ones we should fear most—and the ones we push away are the ones we need the most.

Previously: After someone tried to shoot Sasha at her Paris concert, Damon carried her to safety. The threats were escalating, and Sasha finally realized the danger was real. In a vulnerable moment, Damon revealed the tragic story of his sister’s death—the reason he became a bodyguard. But when Sasha asked if he had feelings for her, he shut down, insisting she was just a client. The question remains: Who’s trying to kill Sasha, and why?
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Chapter 20: City of Love

That night in the hotel, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the hooded figure raising that gun, aiming at me. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Around 2 AM, I gave up and walked into the living area of our suite. Damon was sitting on the couch, wide awake, staring out the window at the glittering Paris skyline.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked without turning around.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see it. The gun. The crowd. Everything.”

He patted the space next to him on the couch. “Come here.”

I sat down, and he wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. We sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the city lights.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asked.

“Not really. I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Then I’ll stay right here with you.”

And he did. We talked for hours about everything and nothing. He told me about growing up in the orphanage, about his sister’s love for baking, about how she’d make him laugh on his worst days. I told him about the pressure of fame, about how lonely it could be at the top, about my dreams beyond music.

As dawn broke over Paris, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, Damon stood up.

“Get dressed. We’re going out.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

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Chapter 21: The Eiffel Tower

He took me to the Eiffel Tower. At sunrise, before the tourists arrived, when the city was still quiet and peaceful.

As we approached the escalator that would take us to the top, my old phobia kicked in. My palms started sweating, my heart racing.

“Are you sure about this?” Damon asked gently. “We can just go back. You don’t have to—”

“No. I can do this.”

But as we started ascending, I couldn’t help but cover my eyes. The ground was getting farther away, and my fear was threatening to overwhelm me.

“How about you take a look, and we’ll go down?” I suggested weakly. “You can experience it for your sister.”

“But I don’t want you to miss this, Sasha.”

When we reached the top, he led me forward carefully. “I’ve got you. Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

I kept my eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, holding me securely. His presence was solid, safe, unshakeable.

“Now open your eyes.”

I did.

The view was breathtaking. All of Paris stretched out before us—the Seine river winding through the city, the historic buildings bathed in golden morning light, the streets just beginning to wake up. It was magical.

And I felt completely safe in his arms.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“It is.”

But when I turned to look at him, he wasn’t looking at the view. He was looking at me.

In that moment, standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower with his arms around me and the whole city of Paris below us, I realized something terrifying: I was falling in love with my bodyguard. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Damon,” I said softly, still in his embrace. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Have you ever… fallen for a client?”

His arms tensed around me. For a moment, I thought he might confess his feelings. That he might admit what I was feeling wasn’t one-sided.

But then he stepped back, releasing me. His expression went cold and professional again.

“No. It would never happen. I can’t do my job well if I’m emotionally involved.”

The words hit me like ice water. “Right. Of course. Stupid question.”

“Sasha—”

“It’s fine. Let’s go back.”

I felt like an idiot. Of course he didn’t have feelings for me. All those moments—the dance at the club, the way he looked at me, the softness in his voice when he said my name—I’d been reading into everything. He was just doing his job. And I was just another client.
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Chapter 22: Back to Reality

We flew back home the next day. The flight was awkward and silent. I pretended to sleep, and Damon pretended to read a book, and we both pretended that everything was fine.

When we landed, I had one week before I had to go back to school for final exams. My manager had cleared my schedule so I could study and recover from the Paris incident.

But staying home with Damon was torture. Every room felt too small. Every silence too loud. I missed the easy conversations we’d had in Paris, the way he’d opened up to me, the way he’d made me feel safe and seen.

Now we were back to being just bodyguard and client. Nothing more.

When it was finally time to return to school, I was almost relieved. At least there, I’d have classes to focus on, friends to distract me, something other than the confusing mess of feelings I had for a man who’d made it clear he didn’t feel the same way.

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Chapter 23: The Library Incident

On my first day back, I went to the library to study for my literature exam. I looked for Tessa everywhere—she’d texted that she’d meet me there—but I couldn’t find her.

I finally gave up and sat down at a table in the back corner, surrounded by towering bookshelves. Damon positioned himself by the door, giving me space to study.

I’d been there for about twenty minutes when I heard a strange creaking sound above me. I looked up just in time to see a massive bookshelf tipping toward me.

Time seemed to slow down. The shelf was falling, hundreds of heavy books about to crush me, and I was frozen in fear.

Then Damon was there. He barreled into me, shoving me out of the way. The bookshelf crashed down exactly where I’d been sitting.

On top of Damon.

“Damon!” I screamed, trying to push the shelf off him. “Oh my god, Damon!”

Other students rushed over to help. Together, we managed to lift the bookshelf. Damon was lying there, unconscious, blood trickling from his forehead.

“Someone call 911!” I was sobbing, cradling his head in my lap. “Damon, please wake up. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The ambulance arrived within minutes. As they loaded him onto the stretcher, his eyes fluttered open briefly.

“You’re… okay?” he whispered.

“I’m fine. You saved me. Again.”

He smiled faintly, then lost consciousness again.

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Chapter 24: The Waiting Room

Damon was in surgery for three hours. Three hours of me pacing the waiting room, praying, making deals with God I had no right to make.

My parents wanted me to go home where it was safe, but I refused to leave until I knew he was okay.

When the doctor finally came out and told me Damon was stable—broken ribs, a concussion, but he’d recover—I burst into tears of relief.

“Can I see him?”

“He’s sleeping now, but you can sit with him.”

I did. For hours, I sat beside his hospital bed, holding his hand, watching him breathe. He looked so different when he was sleeping. Younger. More vulnerable. Human.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, even though he couldn’t hear me. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain. I’m sorry I complained about you following me around. I’m sorry I tried to make you quit. You were just trying to keep me safe, and I was too stubborn to see it.”

I rested my forehead against his hand. “Please be okay. Please.”

The thought of losing him—of never hearing his voice again, never seeing his rare smiles, never feeling safe in his presence—was unbearable. Somewhere along the way, he’d become more than just my bodyguard. He’d become the person I trusted most in the world. The person I… loved.
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Chapter 25: The Truth Comes Out

On the third day of sitting vigil at Damon’s bedside, Tessa finally showed up. She brought coffee—my favorite order.

“Hey, girl,” she said, giving me a hug. “I’m so sorry about Damon. How’s he doing?”

“Better. The doctors say he’ll make a full recovery.”

“That’s great! I brought you coffee. You look like you need it.”

I reached for the cup, but before I could take it, Damon’s eyes snapped open.

“Sasha, don’t!”

His hand shot out and slapped the cup away. Coffee spilled everywhere.

“Damon, what—”

The door burst open, and a police officer walked in. Damon must have called them.

“Tessa Carter,” the officer said, pulling out handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for attempted murder.”

I stared in shock as the officer put handcuffs on my best friend. “What? No, there must be some mistake—”

“There’s no mistake,” Damon said, sitting up despite his injuries. “I’ve been investigating her for the past two weeks. The magazine threats, the rats in your room, the bookshelf—it was all her. She entered the library through the back door that day. I saw her.”

“And the coffee you just tried to give Sasha is poisoned,” the officer added. “We’ll be testing it as evidence.”

I looked at Tessa, my best friend since childhood, waiting for her to deny it. To laugh and tell us this was all a terrible misunderstanding.

Instead, she smiled. A cold, hateful smile I’d never seen before.

“Tessa, why?” My voice broke. “I don’t understand.”

“Because I hate you.”The words came out like venom. Tessa’s face twisted with rage as years of hidden jealousy finally erupted to the surface.

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Chapter 26: The Jealousy That Destroyed Everything

“You have everything I’ve ever wanted!” Tessa screamed as the officer tried to restrain her. “Beauty, talent, fame, wealth, Theo—everything! Life is so unfair!”

“Tessa, you’re my best friend. I would have shared anything with you—”

“I don’t want your charity! I wanted your life! I tried so hard to get rid of you—the threats, the rats, the bookshelf. But your stupid bodyguard kept saving you!”

Tears streamed down my face. “We’ve been friends for ten years. How could you—”

“Ten years of watching you get everything while I got nothing! Ten years of pretending to be happy for you when all I wanted was to see you fail! I should have just shot you in Paris when I had the chance!”

The officer finally managed to drag her out of the room. Her screams echoed down the hallway until they faded into nothing.

I stood there, numb with shock. My best friend. The person I’d trusted with everything. She’d been trying to kill me all along.

Suddenly, my legs gave out. Damon caught me before I hit the floor, pulling me into his arms despite his injuries.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

And I finally let myself fall apart.

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Chapter 27: The Confession

After the initial shock wore off, I helped Damon back to his hospital bed. He winced as he settled against the pillows.

“You shouldn’t have moved so fast. You’re still recovering.”

“I couldn’t let her hurt you again.”

I sat down beside him, holding his hand. “Thank you. For everything. For protecting me, for investigating Tessa, for… for being there.”

“Sasha, I need to tell you something.”

His expression was serious, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before.

“What is it?”

“I lied to you. In Paris. When you asked me if I’d ever fallen for a client.”

My heart stopped. “You… you lied?”

“I can’t be your bodyguard anymore, Sasha. I just can’t. I can’t do my job well when all I want to do is hold you, kiss you, tell you how I feel. I can’t stay professional when you look at me the way you do. I can’t—”

I kissed him.

I didn’t think. I just leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, cutting off his rambling confession.

For a second, he froze. Then his hand came up to cup my face, and he was kissing me back—soft and gentle at first, then deeper, more passionate. Like he’d been holding himself back for months and was finally letting go.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless.

“So,” I said, smiling through tears. “If I fire you right now, will you be my boyfriend instead?”

He laughed—a real, genuine laugh that lit up his entire face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And then he kissed me again.

It was the kind of kiss you dream about. The kind that makes your toes curl and your heart soar. The kind that promises forever. And for the first time in months, I felt completely, utterly safe. Not because he was protecting me—but because I was with him.
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Epilogue: Six Months Later

Damon made a full recovery, though he insisted on dramatically telling people he’d almost died saving me. I told him he was being melodramatic. He said I was one to talk.

We were perfect for each other.

My parents hired a new bodyguard—a woman in her fifties who was professional, efficient, and absolutely no fun at parties. Which was perfect, because Damon came to all my events as my boyfriend instead.

Tessa was sentenced to fifteen years for attempted murder. I testified at her trial, and seeing her there—angry, unrepentant, still blaming me for her choices—was heartbreaking. But I learned that you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. And sometimes the people we think we know best are strangers wearing familiar faces.

Theo tried to crawl back into my life after everything that happened, claiming he’d always loved me. I blocked his number and moved on. Some mistakes aren’t worth a second chance.

As for me and Damon? We were taking things slow. Learning each other outside of the bodyguard-client dynamic. Discovering that we liked each other even more when life wasn’t constantly in danger.

He taught me self-defense. I taught him how to relax and have fun. He introduced me to his favorite books. I took him to all my favorite restaurants. We slow danced in my living room at 2 AM. We stayed up talking until sunrise. We built something real and solid and beautiful.

One evening, I found him on my balcony, staring up at the stars.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him from behind.

“My sister. I think she would have liked you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She always said I needed someone who could make me smile. Someone who could break through my walls. Someone who’d drive me absolutely crazy but make it all worthwhile.”

I laughed. “So I drive you crazy?”

He turned around and pulled me close. “In the best possible way.”

He kissed me softly, then rested his forehead against mine. “Thank you, Sasha.”

“For what?”

“For being stubborn and impossible and refusing to let me keep my distance. For making me remember what it feels like to really live, not just exist. For giving me a reason to smile again.”

I smiled up at him, my heart full. “You know, you never actually said the words.”

“What words?”

“That you love me.”

He cupped my face in his hands, looking at me with such intensity that it took my breath away.

“Sasha Morrison, I am completely, hopelessly, madly in love with you. I love your stubbornness and your kindness. I love the way you sing in the shower and the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking. I love how you pretend to be fearless but squeeze my hand when you’re scared. I love everything about you. And I will spend the rest of my life keeping you safe—not because it’s my job anymore, but because you’re my everything.”

Tears streamed down my face. Happy tears. “I love you too. Even when you’re overprotective and impossible and refuse to let me have any fun.”

“I let you have fun.”

“You literally carried me off stage at my concert.”

“Someone was trying to shoot you!”

We both laughed, and then he was kissing me again, and the rest of the world faded away.

Sometimes the best love stories are the ones we never see coming. The ones that start with resistance and end with surrender. The ones that teach us that being vulnerable isn’t weakness—it’s the bravest thing we can do.

I never wanted a bodyguard. But I found the love of my life.

And that? That was worth every terrifying, beautiful moment.

A Note from Sasha

Thank you for following my journey from spoiled singer to… slightly less spoiled singer in love. If there’s one thing I learned from this whole experience, it’s that the people we push away the hardest are sometimes the ones we need the most.

Life lessons I learned the hard way:

  • Fame doesn’t protect you from danger—or from heartbreak
  • The people closest to you might be hiding more than you know
  • Sometimes the most annoying person in your life becomes the most important
  • Real protection comes from someone who sees you—not just guards you
  • Love isn’t about finding someone perfect—it’s about finding someone perfect for you

Damon and I are planning our first vacation together—somewhere with no helicopters involved, thank you very much. He’s teaching me to trust again. I’m teaching him that it’s okay to relax sometimes. We’re learning together, growing together, loving each other through all the messy, beautiful chaos.

To everyone who related to my story: trust your instincts, protect your heart, but don’t be afraid to let the right person in. The walls we build to keep us safe can sometimes keep us lonely instead.

And hey, if you’re ever in the market for a bodyguard, I can’t recommend Damon highly enough. Though fair warning—he’s taken. Very, very taken.

With love and gratitude,
— Sasha

P.S. Damon wants me to mention that I’m still dramatic, still stubborn, and still refuse to follow security protocols. He’s not wrong, but I maintain that life’s more fun that way. He’ll learn. Eventually. Maybe.

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