The Billionaire Bodyguard

"Dad, I don't need a bodyguard. I know I have been reckless in some of my actions but I still survived on my own. I don't need a grumpy human monitoring my every move." My voice steady but pleading, in hopes that my father would reconsider his statement.

His face turned stern.

"Sienna, you are the heiress of the family. My only child. You not only defied me but you almost got yourself killed out there. There is no changing what I said. He will be here in the afternoon, get ready." He sipped his coffee from his cup and resumed watching the news.

My father, Romano Moretti. Owner of one the biggest jewelry manufacturers in all of Italy with branches across the country. Yet he was quite a simple man, but dangerously calculative.

He looked at me as I stood there, makinga pleading face.

"No, don't do that, my decision has been made and there is no changing my mind." He said, dropping his cup.

"And stop begging, it doesn't look good on you." He said, patting my head and smiling.

I knew there was nothing I could do now. My father was a loving but principled man who cared for me. After that threat, such measures were not surprising.

He had trained me as a single parent with the help from grandma Maria, ever since my mom died. And I loved them both more than anything.

But this bodyguard stuff was pissing me off.

I stormed off, climbing the stairs to my room, muttering curses, going to freshen up and welcome the "guard dog."

Memories of the text came flooding in as the water flowed on my skin:

"Every heiress thinks she's untouchable... until she's gasping for air in a trunk. Sleep tight. If I were you, I'd keep the lights on tonight. And every night after-if you get one."

I couldn't help but wonder. Who would want to hurt me? What did I do to anyone?

My hands clutched my skin like it was peeling off. Tears flowed through my cheeks mixing with the shower water. I screamed my lungs out in the bathroom until I choked, coughed, gasping for air. I gathered myself slowly.

I was not going to look weak. Not now. I will be strong for me.

For my dad.

For my family.

For the business.

And to prove my father wrong that I don't need a bodyguard.

I have always survived on my own and will continue to do so.

I got out of the bath tub, went into the closet. Searched through my clothes. Looking for something formal.

A black velvet gown slit high enough to silence a room.

I chose the diamond necklaces and earring and I applied a smoky liner that held a challenge no one dared to meet. "The guard dog" doesn't know what he is getting himself into.

We were seated in the living room, awaiting this guy, grandma giving me weird glances.

"Are you sure we are expecting someone except the bodyguard?" Grandma teased my choice of outfit.

"Grandma, this is an official welcome. And what? I have to represent the family well, right?" I answered without looking away from my phone.

I was already fueled with rage that Dad insisted on bringing this guy over.

Oh, I never asked.

"Father, where did you find this man from?" I kept my phone and relaxed on the couch.

"Hmm, why are you suddenly interested? "

"Come on, tell me dad." I spoke calmly.

He gave in, "Well, he is an ex- military. Trained with MI6/CIA before going rogue.

He is now into private security.