Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“What’s the longest you’ve guarded someone?”
His eyes flick down to meet mine. “Don’t worry, Camille. I won’t be around for long. As soon as your father gets rid of whoever is threatening you, he’ll arrange for someone else to guard you. I’m just here while the risk of an attack is high.”
The elevator doors open, and he orders, “Wait here.”
“Are you going to search the entire penthouse every time we get home?”
“Yep.” The single word is filled with a world of annoyance.
Maybe I frustrate him as much as he frustrates me. Our personalities clash.
I wait for him to search the apartment, and when he joins me downstairs again, he says, “Let’s go over the rules.”
“Rules?”
“You never go anywhere without me,” he states the obvious. “You don’t lock a door, and unless you’re using the bathroom or developing photos, I expect the doors to remain open.”
In other words, there goes my privacy.
My frustration flares into anger, and I cross my arms over my chest while just staring at him.
“Whenever we leave the apartment, you obey every command I give without hesitation. If I say get down, you become one with the floor and don’t lift your head until I say it’s safe to do so.”
My eyes narrow on him.
“I will search public restrooms before you’re allowed to use one.”
Jesus, does he even have emotions? I’ve never met anyone so rigid before.
“What if I have a date?” I ask.
I haven’t been on one in months, but I want to hear what rules he expects me to follow.
“You’re not seeing anyone right now.”
“I can be asked out at any moment,” I argue.
“If that happens, the man will be vetted thoroughly. Once I’m satisfied that he isn’t a threat, you’ll be allowed to go out with him.”
My eyebrow rises. “With you joining us?”
“Yes.”
My eyes narrow again. “I don’t do threesomes.”
There’s a flicker of annoyance in Max’s intense gaze, but he doesn’t comment on what I just said.
The atmosphere is tense, and knowing nothing I say will get a reaction out of him, I walk away and head to my bedroom to change into comfortable clothes.
I know I should count my blessings, but my controlled life is becoming unbearable. It’s monotonous and tiring.
The shitty part is that I understand why every single detail of my life is so controlled by my father and now Max as well.
But still, I wish there was more to life than rules and an endless list of events I have to attend.
I wish there were spontaneity and excitement.
I wish there was…more.
Chapter 6
Max
It’s been a shit week since I started guarding Camille.
It’s clear she’s taken great offense to my observation that she doesn’t like to do chores, because she’s kept the penthouse fucking spotless since.
Not once has she gone out to take photos but instead spends all her time between her bedroom and the darkroom.
Besides greeting each other in the morning and her making sure I eat, we hardly interact.
She’s unhappy, and I’m the cause.
Ask me how to torture and kill, and I’ll be able to carry a conversation for hours. But interacting with normal people is fucking hard.
I’m used to violence, not codling a woman.
Killing for a living has dulled my emotions and made me anti-social as fuck. Camille’s from a different world where she has to socialize often. I know my hard exterior is what’s cause the rift between us, but I don’t know how to fix it.
Still, it could take weeks, if not months, before the threat has been dealt with. Camille can’t live like this. At some point, she’s going to lose her shit.
If the tense atmosphere bothers me, it must drive her insane.
You committed to guarding this woman when you met with Nikolai on his island. There’s no backing out until she’s safe.
She has to attend Sophie Renoir’s birthday party tonight, so she’ll at least get out of the penthouse.
When we get home, I’ll have to sit her down and clear the air between us. If that’s even possible.
I’m waiting in the living room when I hear Camille’s bedroom door open. My eyes lift to the hallway, and when she appears, every muscle in my body tightens.
She’s wearing a black dress that barely covers her ass. The black high heels make her legs look fucking long and defined.
As she comes down the stairs, I see how low her neckline is, exposing a way too generous amount of cleavage.
Camille approaches me and lifts her head. The sight of the smoky eyeshadow making the green of her eyes pop and the red lipstick around her full lips have my dick hardening.
She looks like porn in heels.
Christ, the men are going to flock to her in droves.
Her choppy bob leaves her slender neck exposed, and an image of marking her skin with my teeth flashes through my mind.
No.
Hell no.
You’re not going to walk around with a hard-on for this woman.