The Bodyguard Who Broke Me

Linnea gave my shoulder a light pat, her smile polite and false.

“Then prove it,” she said. “And do try not to be so sensitive.”

She left me at the sink.

By the time I came out, one of the others from my group had already heard what happened.

“Linnea studied under your mother,” she whispered. “She was also close to Cassian Hale’s sister.”

I stopped walking.

So that was it.

When I reached the front gate, I saw him at once.

Cassian stood under the stone arch, half-turned toward a woman in a pale coat. She leaned in to say something, and he lifted a hand to smooth her hair back from her face.

Linnea.

For a second, I couldn’t move.

Then I turned and walked the other way.

I cut through the west path and into the arboretum, but I didn’t get far. Two men stepped out from between the trees, both smelling of liquor.

One of them looked me over and laughed. “So it’s really her.”

The other said, “Didn’t know the quiet ones sounded like that.”

My hand moved before I thought. The slap cracked across his face.

“Move.”

He shoved me hard. My back hit the tree behind me, and pain shot through my shoulder. The other one grabbed my wrist and pulled.

I screamed.

The first man reached for me again.

He never got the chance.

Something slammed into him from the side, and he went down hard. By the time I looked up, Cassian was already there. The second man took one look at his face and ran. His friend staggered up a second later and followed.

Cassian turned to me at once.

“Aria. Are you hurt?”

He caught my arm, checking too quickly, too closely. I shoved him off and folded my arms over myself.

He froze.

“Why haven’t you answered a single call?” he asked. “Those videos—someone stole private footage and leaked it. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”

He sounded almost angry, almost hurt.

If I hadn’t heard him the night before, I might have believed him.

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “I’ll explain everything to your parents. We don’t have to hide anymore.”

Then he said it.

“Marry me.”

My chest tightened.

After three years in secret. After the videos. After my mother collapsed in front of half the city.

He stepped closer.

“I mean it. I’ll make this right. I’ll protect you. I’ll protect your family.”

A week ago, I would have broken down and said yes.

Now all I could think was that if I turned on him too soon, he might do something worse.

I didn’t answer. He took my silence for hesitation and pulled me into him.

I went rigid.

His mouth found my neck. Once, that would have undone me. Now it only made my skin crawl.

“Aria,” he murmured. “Forgive me.”

“Let go.”

He didn’t.

I bit down hard on his shoulder. He sucked in a breath, then only held me tighter, like he thought this was a quarrel he could kiss his way through.

“Fine,” he said against my skin. “If that helps, do it again.”

Then he kissed me.

I turned my face away, but his hand caught my jaw and held it there. Not rough. Not angry. Worse than that—familiar. Practiced.

My stomach lurched.

All I could think was:

Had he set up another camera?