The Ceo's Secret Guard

Steph Munroe's POV:

There's something about rain-slicked streets that definitely makes even the biggest cities feel lonely and New York was no exception.As the cab's wipers fought hard against the downpour, smearing neon lights across the window like messy brushstrokes, my fingers stayed curled around the strap of my bag, my knuckles white and my heart doing that annoying thudding it does whenever I know I'm walking into something I can't walk out of easily.

The driver slowed to a stop in front of the Monarch Capital Group's towering glass building. One couldn't deny that even at night, it pulsed with life, a 54-story monument to ambition, money, and yes! people like Damian Pierce. People who didn't just sit at the top of the food chain... they basically owned the damn chain!

While I had never met him in person, I knew him through the press like everyone else did-The almighty thirty-two-year- old, self-made billionaire who was as razor-sharp in business as he was untouchable in the media. He was a man you didn't cross unless you had a death wish.

And yet here I was.

The revolving doors swallowed me into a lobby so polished it made me instantly aware of the rain on my coat and the wetness in my hair. I felt small just by standing in this building.Two receptionists sat behind a curved desk, both dressed in sleek black suits that said we notice everything and forget nothing.

One looked up as though noticing I had been staring and reading them like a book. "Ms. Munroe?"

"That's me." My voice didn't waver, thank God.

"You're expected." She slid a sleek, black visitor badge toward me. "Forty-ninth floor. Mr. Pierce will see you now."

The elevator ride was a silent countdown. I didn't check my phone nor did I check my makeup. Whatever this meeting was going to be, I could tell it was already set in motion. I just had to survive it.

When the doors finally opened, I was greeted by a wall of glass that revealed the city skyline in all of its stormy glory. His office was at the end of the hall, door ajar, light spilling out.

I stepped inside, heart in my pocket.

He matched the article's description perfectly and at the same time he was nothing like them at all. Standing by the window,phone in hand, in a charcoal suit fitting him like it had been stitched directly on his body was Damian Pierce. But it wasn't his height or the sharp cut of his jaw that hit me first. It was his stillness. His stillness had something to it that made you wonder if he was about to tell you a secret or end your career.

He ended his call, slipping the phone into his pocket. "Steph Munroe." His voice was low, smooth, but it definitely wasn't the kind that made you want to relax.

"Yes." I didn't sit, well until he told me to.

He studied me for a bit longer than comfortable, then gestured to the leather chair across from his desk. "Please."

I sat, my bag on my lap.

"I read your file," he said, walking around the desk. "Military background. Honorably discharged. Freelance security work. Two years working for a private investigative firm. Impressive."

I kept my expression neutral trying my best to hide my nervousness and mostly how intimidated I felt just by his presence . "I didn't know I was applying for a job."

"You're not Ms Munroe." He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "You're being offered one."

I could feel the air between us shift.

"I'm listening," I said.

His gaze was sharp. "I have enemies, Ms. Munroe. That's the nature of my business. But you see,lately, they've been... bolder. I've had security for years, but this is different. I need someone who can be close without being obvious. Someone who can protect me without drawing attention."

It clicked. "You want a bodyguard."

"I want a shadow," he corrected with a smirk. "You'll be brought on under the guise of a special assistant. You'll handle certain tasks, Travel with me. Be where I am. And if anyone tries anything..." He didn't finish the sentence but he didn't need to.We both understood

I know I should have said no, better still, I should have gotten up that minute and walked right out before my little life got tangled in whatever web Damian Pierce spun around himself.

But then he said, "The pay is triple your current rate. Discretion is non-negotiable. And if you accept, you start tomorrow."

My pulse kicked so hard against my ribs.

"How do you know you can trust me?" I asked.

He leaned forward, eyes locking on mine. "Because I already know your secrets, so being kind to yourself would mean helping me trust you...right Ms.Munroe?"

The words landed like a weight in my chest.

As I sat there scanning my brain for a response, the phone in his office rang. He picked it up, listened for a few seconds, then hung up again. "Have you decided yet, Ms. Munroe?"

My mouth was dry but I went ahead to say "I'll take it." Funny how I answered like I had any choice

His expression didn't change, but something in the air did, it felt like a deal had been struck in a room where nothing was ever undone.

"Good," he said, standing. "My driver will pick you up at 7 a.m and wear black. Bring nothing you can't afford to lose."

I rose to my feet, my mind already spinning with questions I knew would never get answers.

As I reached the door, he called after me. "And one more thing."

I turned.

"From the moment you step out of this building tonight," he said, "you're already on the job."

As the elevator doors closed in front of me, sealing me in with my reflection. I couldn't help but wonder for the first time in a really long time, if I was stepping into the new life I wanted or actually walking straight into a trap.