Page 7 of The Bodyguard

“Him?” Andi blinked. “Don’t you mean them? Don’t they have some female operatives?”

Maya’s lips tightened. “They’ve already assigned someone. He’s ex-military. Top of the chain. He doesn’t take on political clients, but Cerberus insisted.”

“You set this up without my consent?” Andi whispered.

“I set it up to keep you breathing.” Maya’s voice cracked. “You can fire me later. I’ll call Cerberus and tell them to meet us at your place in the morning.”

Andi rolled her eyes and winced. Maybe she’d wait on witty, sarcastic comebacks.

The ride to her loft condo was mostly a blur with the two staffers looking as if they were in shock and Maya fussing over her. Once they were safely tucked inside, Andi spent a fitful night, mostly because Maya kept waking her every two hours. One thing she had to admit, Maya was more than her chief of staff, more than a friend… the woman was a Godsend.

Andi woke the next morning in her own bed, body sore and mind spinning. The accident had totaled her car. The campaign SUV driver confirmed the black vehicle had no plates. No one caught a good look.

Andi was standing in her kitchen, clutching her coffee like a lifeline when her security buzzer rang.

“Cerberus security. Langdon. Here to meet Andrea Donato.”

Her stomach dropped as Maya gave him the code. Seconds later, her front door opened. She turned, ready to argue—but the words stalled in her throat. The man who stepped inside didn’t look like any bodyguard she’d expected. No pressed suit. No politician’s smile.

He wore a fitted black T-shirt that clung to broad shoulders and was tucked into black jeans. She could just make out a shoulder holster with some kind of handgun peeking out from his black leather jacket. His boots were heavy and dark and his expression unreadable. He carried a black leather overnight bag.

He was tall. Towering. He had the well-sculpted physique of a fitness model, but she suspected years of hard work, not just time in a gym, had honed it. And he exuded an incredibly calm demeanor—like the kind of calm that came from staring down gun barrels without flinching.

Andi squared her shoulders. “Let me guess. Cerberus sent their brooding alpha.”

His eyes flicked over her once, slow and deliberate. “Langdon. You can call me Mitch.”

“Can I call you unnecessary?”

He shut the door behind him without responding, walked straight into her kitchen like he’d already claimed the space. “This place is unsecured. I counted three entry points and no cameras. No guard patrol outside. There’s an elderly concierge, and no reinforced locks. You’re a high-profile target living like a civilian.”

“It’s my home,Langdon, not a war zone.”

“A professional driver in an unplated black SUV nearly ran you down, and you’ve received several credible threats by mail and email,” he replied coolly. “We’re well past debating semantics.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” she said, voice rising.

He stepped closer. Too close. The heat from his body reached her even though he didn’t touch her.

“No. You didn’t. But I don’t particularly care what you asked for. I’m here now. You either work with me—or I let your campaign team know you rejected professional protection. When the next attack hits, they can explain it to the press.”

Her jaw clenched. “You don’t play subtle, do you?”

“Not when lives are on the line.”

The air between them shifted. Her pulse kicked. She hated the way her body reacted to the command in his voice, the calm certainty in his gaze. He wasn’t trying to impress her. He wasn’t even trying to convince her. He was just telling her how things were going to be.

Her sanctuary—the loft she’d designed down to every soft-edge chair and beach-swept rug—suddenly felt invaded and much, much smaller.

“You brought a bag,” she said, her voice more dry than surprised.

Mitch didn’t miss a beat. “That’s because I’m staying,” he said.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

He dropped the duffel beside the island counter, his movements unhurried. Deliberate. “Cerberus protocol. You’re a high-risk target after last night’s incident. Until your space is secure, I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Langdon.”

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