Page 10 of Duty Unbound

“Got it, boss.” Ty’s eyes were wide as he took in the fountain centerpiece and the grand entrance ahead. The kid was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Take a breath. It’s just another job.”

“Right, just another job protecting one of the biggest pop stars on the planet.” He whistled low. “Her new single is crushing it right now. My sister plays that shit on repeat. Says it’s the anthem of her summer.”

I stopped at the edge of the circular driveway and turned toface him. Twenty-six years old and still green enough to get starstruck. That enthusiasm made him good at his job, but it could also make him sloppy.

“Focus. Give me a rundown of what we know.”

Ty straightened immediately, slipping into professional mode. “Nova Rivers, rising pop sensation set to begin her national tour in two weeks. According to her sister and manager, Melanie Rivers, Nova has received numerous threatening messages through various channels—texts, emails, and physical mail—all demanding she cancel the tour.”

He paused, checking points off on his fingers. “She also receives the standard obsessive fan messages.I’m in love with you,We’re meant to be together, that kind of thing. The biggest concern is from five days ago, when someone breached the property and left flowers with threatening notes in the kitchen.”

I studied the property line while he spoke. The decorative iron fencing wouldn’t stop a determined teenager, let alone someone with actual skills.

“The timing of the break-in coincided with Nova announcing three additional tour dates,” Ty continued. “Which suggests the perpetrator is monitoring her public appearances and social media closely.”

I nodded, genuinely impressed. Maybe Logan was right about giving the kid more responsibility. “Good. What security issues have you identified since we arrived?”

Ty glanced back at the gate we’d passed through. “Front entrance security is a joke. Guard barely looked at our IDs, didn’t call ahead to verify our appointment, and didn’t check the vehicle. I’ve spotted only three surveillance cameras, all positioned ineffectively. The east side of the property backs up to a wooded area with no visible monitoring. And there’s a service entrance that was completely unstaffed when we drove past.”

“Assessment?”

“This place is a security disaster waiting to happen.”

“Exactly.” I resumed walking toward the house, gravel crunching beneath our boots. “Which means we have our work cut out for us, if we decide to take the job.”

Celebrities could be a pain in the ass because they were often resistant to the changes a security team would need to implement. They wanted the protection without the inconvenience. This three-day site survey—on the client’s dime—was a part of every personal security job Citadel Solutions took on.

We meticulously identified their security vulnerabilities, outlined a comprehensive remediation strategy, and presented our unique value proposition as their potential security partner. Many prospective clients ultimately chose to go another way or with another firm because our approach exceeded their comfort level. That could very easily happen here too.

The grand entrance loomed ahead—double doors of carved mahogany beneath an arched portico. Decorative planters flanked the steps, providing perfect cover for someone approaching unseen. They would definitely be removed if we took this job, should be removed even if we didn’t.

“Hey, boss?” Ty fell into step beside me. “You ever seen that movie? The one with the bodyguard and the singer?”

I suppressed a groan. “Yes, I’ve seen it.” I shot him a sideways glance. “My mom’s favorite movie. She mentions it every time we take a case like this. She’s convinced I’ll fall madly in love with some client one day.”

“Will you?”

“Not happening.”

Ty grinned, but he wisely dropped the subject. But I knew Logan had been right about what he’d said on that plane out of Colombia a couple days ago—I needed to stop volunteering exclusively for the rough, dangerous missions. The reasons behind my choices weren’t something I was ready to examine too closely and especially wasn’t going to talk to Ty about.

The breeze shifted, carrying the scent of jasmine from anearby hedge. I took in every detail, mapping potential vulnerabilities in my mind. Two ground-floor windows with insufficient locks. A balcony accessible from the garden trellis. An unmonitored side door half hidden by ornamental shrubs.

“Remember why we’re here,” I said as we approached the entrance. “Stay professional, focused, and leave the fan club shit at the door.” I gave him a pointed look. “And don’t even think about asking Ms. Rivers if she has an OnlyFans account.”

Ty laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “Come on, boss. Give me some credit.”

“I’ve heard your jokes, Hughes. I know exactly how much credit to give you.”

I rang the doorbell, noting the lack of security cameras at the entrance. Another critical weakness in the current setup. The door swung open almost immediately.

A young woman with streaked pink hair and a dance outfit looked us up and down, relief washing over her face. “Oh thank God, you’re finally here.” She grabbed Ty’s arm and pulled him into the foyer. “Dexter’s been screaming his head off all morning because you guys are late.”

I stepped in behind them, instantly on alert. The expansive foyer opened to a grand staircase and multiple hallways, all bustling with activity. Music pounded from somewhere deeper in the house, the bass rattling a collection of awards displayed in a glass case. A group of young women in matching outfits huddled in the living room, harmonizing over the din. In the kitchen, a production team was filming something while people grabbed food from an elaborate spread.

The security nightmare continued inside. Too many people. Too many access points. Too little control.

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