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Bodyguard

Bodyguard

Anna Kendra

Last update: 2023-06-08

Chapter 1

  • Julian Turner stared at his older brother in shock.
  • “You’ll kick me out of my own company?” he asked the
  • golden-haired, green-eyed man who towered over him by five inches.
  • Anyone who’d lay eyes on Christian and Julian can immediately
  • tell that the two weren’t related. And they wouldn’t be wrong in saying so, for
  • they weren’t.
  • Christian Turner was the legitimate son and heir to
  • their late parents, Cecelia and Damien Turner, founders of Turner Security and
  • James Bay Medical Center in Canada. While Christian had fair skin and a lean
  • built, Julian had a slight olive complexion that hinted of an Italian
  • ancestry, bulging muscles, and a body most women fall for.
  • Where Christian had blond hair and emerald eyes,
  • Julian had midnight black hair and electric blue eyes. There was one thing about
  • the older brother, however, that stood out more than his intimidating height.
  • It was the scar on one side of his face, which he had acquired during a battle in
  • Afghanistan when he was still in the army.
  • “Your reputation will be the end of you and this
  • company,” his brother said instead. “I’m not going to let our parents’ hard
  • work go to ruins because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”
  • Julian gritted his teeth. Yes, he knew he was a bit of a
  • player, but it’s not like he forced anyone. Everyone he had slept with came to
  • him at their own free will, and no one ever complained about it when it was time
  • for him to leave. He wanted to say that to Christian, come up with some excuse
  • that he was capable of becoming the CEO, just like his parents had wanted him
  • to be. But he couldn’t, not when he hadn’t had a single case in the last two
  • months.
  • “Give me one last chance,” he said with his hands
  • clenched at his sides. “I swear I’ll be worth it. I will prove that my skills are—and
  • still—of value.”
  • Christian sighed, rubbing at his temples. “I never
  • doubted your skills as a bodyguard, Julian. You know this isn’t about that. But
  • I’m willing to give you one last chance.” His emerald eyes met Julian’s
  • electric blue ones, making sure that his little brother understood his point.
  • “But this is it, Julian, no more second chances. You fail this one, and you lose
  • the company.”
  • Julian’s face was all hard lines, skin taut over his
  • cheekbones, as he nodded in understanding. “I won’t disappoint you.”
  • Christian hoped that for his own sake, Julian better
  • not.
  • *           *           *
  • Julian looked at his watch for the nth time before
  • turning his gaze towards the closed door. He’d been at Magenta Fashion for
  • nearly three hours now, and he could feel all the sympathetic stares directed at
  • him by the employees. Apparently, Sia Milton went into these sudden “creative
  • sprees” and would lock herself up in her office for hours on end. No one had
  • any idea when she was coming out, but Julian couldn’t just up and leave either.
  • He needed this job desperately, and he’ll wait the entire day if he had to.
  • Besides, he couldn’t imagine a fifty-something-year-old
  • woman cooped up in her office all day; she’ll need to come out eventually. This client particularly liked to keep to
  • herself as Julian had never seen Sia Milton even though she was close to being
  • a celebrity with her popularity. She shies away from the media and even
  • avoids coming to her own fashion shows. He had a vague idea that her secrecy
  • was exactly the reason he had been called to her office. Now, he’ll need to find
  • out the reason behind it, so he could protect her from future harm.
  • Julian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. If he
  • weren’t so desperate, he wouldn’t be here in the first place, waiting for a woman
  • who ran a fashion house who had so much ego but no respect for a person’s time.
  • And on top of that, it was Ms. Milton herself who had made the appointment.
  • The promise he’d made to Christian ran through his mind
  • as he sat outside Sia Milton’s office. It wasn’t his abilities that Julian
  • doubted. No, far from it. He was the best in his field with a hundred percent
  • job completion rate. It was his character, or rather the lack of it, he feared.
  • He knew he had fucked up in the past, and he wasn’t going to blame it on
  • anyone. He was who he was. He’d committed no crimes, but people have now become
  • wary of him.
  • He couldn’t help it, though. He’d definitely hit all the
  • right genes in the looks department: tall, over 6’1”, and a muscular built. Strong
  • and lethal, he drew attention from miles away. But it was a shame that he
  • always found himself involved with either his client’s daughter or his wife.
  • This was also why he hadn’t yet had the opportunity of guarding a woman until
  • now. Businesswomen and female celebrities steered clear of him, and married men
  • have stopped hiring him entirely. If this kept up, Turner Security would soon
  • be slammed.
  • But he was interested to know why Sia was hiring him
  • despite his reputation. She was the head of Magenta Fashion, a medium-sized
  • fashion house which had gained popularity over the last eight years for its
  • quality for a decent price. Their products were known for their durable
  • materials, as well as their casual, wearable designs which flatter not only those
  • from the upper class—like most of the fashion houses liked to focus on—but also
  • people from the middle-class society. Why someone was after her life rather
  • than ruining the fashion house was mind-boggling.
  • Such attempts often happen when one party starts to get
  • more profit and recognition, and another (or several others) tries to bring it
  • down. But they usually try to sabotage the company, not the owner, not to
  • mention to attempt an abduction of her thirteen-year-old son. He was cycling his
  • way back from school on a rainy day, and the streets were pretty much deserted.
  • That was all the detail he had been given upon arriving at Magenta this
  • morning, and he had since then, read the file a hundred times over.
  • Julian let his eyes wander the room. Purple couches
  • lined the wall opposite to the boss’s room and a few potted flowering plants hung
  • from the ceiling. A decent-sized bamboo plant was placed on either side of the
  • entrance door to the office. The walls were painted in bright-colored patterns juxtaposed
  • with the calm colors from a painting of a Victorian ballroom, drawing all the
  • attention to it.
  • A little further in the office, a sexy brunette
  • secretary in a pink pencil skirt, white shirt, and pink killer high heels was
  • giving him some serious come-hither looks. And as inviting as she may be, for
  • once, Julian found himself more intrigued by the boss than her secretary.
  • He was about to stand up to get a coffee from the
  • canteen downstairs when the phone on the secretary’s desk began to ring. She
  • picked it up hastily and started answering with quick “Yes, Ma’ams.” If Julian
  • weren’t so stressed, he would have laughed at the startled expression on her
  • face.
  • He raised one dark eyebrow at the secretary once she had
  • finished her phone call, who in turn blushed and pointed him to the door. “Go
  • straight in,” she told him.
  • It’s time, he
  • thought to himself as he straightened his jacket and picked up the file in his
  • hand. Then, he walked to the door and entered the room that would decide his
  • future.