Protected By The Devil (An Estrange Body Guard) Prt 1

 

Chapter 1
Verra POV

Love you.
Love you.
Love you.
Love you!
I love you...

That’s all the note ever said. if I can even call it a note. I’ve read it so many times I’ve memorized the count.

Eleven words.
Five lines.
Five meanings.

The first line was written in delicate, almost whispered handwriting. Beautiful, really. It felt like he was watching me, and I liked that. In this miserable mansion, I’d take any attention I could get my hands on.

By the fourth line, though, it sounded angry; like his voice was echoing in my mind, demanding I love him back. I couldn’t make sense of that part, not entirely. But I knew one thing; I could play the role of the naïve little girl.

I loved the attention.

Sure, I had a boyfriend. Maybe it was him. But if it was, he didn’t exactly have a talent for romance. His idea of intimacy was more “bend over like 6:30 on a clock” and take whatever he gave from behind.

I didn’t mind it rough.
Not when my life was the soft-boiled egg kind pretty on the outside but runny and broken in the middle.

A stalker was probably out there right now. Maybe hidden deep in the lush, overgrown plants that wrapped around this suffocating mansion like secrets no one wanted to tell. Maybe he had piercing blue eyes, a handsome face, and unruly black hair...

That’s when I realized. I was picturing my boyfriend.

The cold cocktail sweated in my hand, from the hot weather. It was a miracle the drink was still cold at all. A single drop slid down the glass and splashed onto the paper I held, landing right on the words I love you. The ink bled instantly, reactivating and streaking down the page in a faded, watercolor blur.

I set the glass carefully on the edge of the pool. My toes danced just above the blue water as I tucked a loose curl behind my ear. It didn't stay long.

"I honestly don't know how this guy manages to get these past the security system," I muttered. "He's damn good."

Eliza only shrugged before slipping beneath the water. Willina lounged beside me, sunglasses on, lips painted in a bright red smirk. Makeup flawless in the blazing sun with no sweat, no smudge. She looked like she'd just stepped out of an ad. Perfection in a bikini.

"It’s easy, really," she said relaxingly, just as Eliza popped back up, gasping.

"I touched the bottom!" Eliza announced proudly.

Willina scoffed. "You touch the bottom every day. I think the bottom of that pool is tired of your hands."

Eliza swam closer and splashed her, just enough to cause a shriek. Willina ripped off her sunglasses and glared. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You never swim," Eliza complained. "You're always sitting on the edge like some poolside ornament."

"My feet in the water is all the swimming I need. I'm not a fish like you, Elizabeth."

I cleared my throat, precisely very loudly. That got their attention. Both girls turned to look at me, one pair of eyes copper brown, the other a deep paper-bag tan.

"Exactly. Focus on me," I said with a smile. "I'm the one with the stalker, remember? Whether or not someone touched the bottom of the pool should be the least of our concerns."

Willina rolled her eyes. "Your daddy owns a post office. The guy probably just slipped the note in there. It’s not like you told anyone not even your personal bodyguard."

Ah, yes. My personal bodyguard.

He wasn’t far—maybe a yard or two away—lounging in a beach chair, looking both relaxed and on high alert. He wore a full suit, despite the heat, and his eyes were fixed on me. Or at least, I assumed so. Hard to tell with those ridiculous, opaque sunglasses. It look like something made for the blind.

"I don't see the point. I like the stalker guy."

"You don't find that eerie?"

"Um, no? Are we forgetting that I have bodyguards?"

Not that I loved any of them. I changed bodyguards like I changed my heels—frequently, and with little attachment. There was no time to bond. No reason to.

They were all from the same company anyway. I rotated one in every month like clockwork.

See, I’m rich.

But I’m also wild. Just like any normal twenty-one-year-old girl with too much money and zero supervision. I’ve got a strict party schedule. I sneak out at night, hit clubs, get wasted, and let my bodyguard chase me around town like a bad romantic comedy. That part’s always fun.

By morning, I transform into Daddy’s perfect little girl. Polished. Proper. Prim.

But make no mistake. I am not noble.

I curse.
I fuck—every chance I get.
And yeah... I’ve had a few abortions. Two in the last year, I think.

I probably teeter on the blurry line of cheating on my boyfriend; only when he doesn’t do things my way. And by "blurry," I mean flirting with other guys just to make him jealous. It's not like I go all the way... not always.

I adjusted my bra and took another sip of my drink through the skinny straw. “I’m curious who it is,” I mused aloud. “He better be cute.”

“You do realize stalkers are dangerous, right?” Eliza defined as she dipped back under the water. Her brunette hair turned almost black when wet, but it lightened again as it dried in the sun. It was that hot. I could practically hear the hair grease in my scalp sizzling.

“I’m not dumb,” I said, kicking a splash of chlorine-blue water in her direction. “Sure, I dropped out of college, but I’m not not dumb.”

Willina cackled, pointing. “In your damn face! That’s for nearly ruining my makeup.”

“Hah! I’m already wet, you dumbo,” Eliza shot back, swimming closer.

“Okay, shut up you two,” I whined, brushing my hair back. “We go out every night. I scan every man’s face in those clubs and still no one stands out.”

Willina upthrust an eyebrow. “Are we sure you’re not dumb?”

She lifted her empty glass and held it toward the servant standing under a palm tree, shaded from the brutal sun. Victoria, stepped forward with her usual grace to collect the glass. Willina barely gave her a glance.

I quickly gulped the rest of my drink and raised my own glass toward her.
“Victoria?” I called.

“Yes, Ms. Avlon?” she replied, stepping forward.

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Okay, serious question. What are the chances my stalker is, like… insanely hot?”

Victoria had been working for us for years. Technically my personal maid, though she never minded the title. I didn’t even give her that much work; but she insisted on staying close.

“Ms. Avlon?” she asked again, clearly confused by the randomness of the question.

Eliza rolled her eyes, but I waved her off. “I was talking about my stalker,” I clarified. “You know… priorities.”

“You have a stalker, Ms. Avlon?” Victoria asked.

We were about the same age; early twenties. Willina was the oldest of us by just two years and seven months. Still, despite how close we were in age, Victoria and the rest of the staff never missed a beat when it came to formality. Always Ms. Avlon. It made me feel mature and important...Even though I’d bumped into more than one of them at clubs after hours.

We were all living lives; mine just happened to be a little more secret.

“I guess,” I replied with a shrug. “But it’s nothing to worry about.”

I shot a look at my bodyguard. He wasn’t listening; he never was. I’d trained him that way. Tonight would be another game of chase; me running through the city, him trying to keep up. It was half thrill, half rebellion and I lived for it.

“He’s probably ugly,” Willina chimed in.

“Ugly?”

“Yeah. Handsome men don’t stalk women. Most of them are ugly,” she said casually, flipping her hair.

I scratched my throat. “That’s not the point. Don’t start putting weird images in my head. He’s tall, handsome, a little rough, messy black hair—”

Eliza choked on her drink and sputtered water. “That’s literally your boyfriend.”

I waved Victoria off before turning back to them. “Listen, you dried-up yam,” I insulted at Eliza. Honestly, the chlorine had stripped what little beauty she had left. “For the record, at least nine out of ten girls want their boyfriends to be a little possessive. A little stalker-ish.”

Willina sighed. I could feel her eye roll. “Your little Google rabbit hole of crazy pick-me girls needs to be shoved right up that stalker’s loose asshole. No, it’s not your zero-brain-cell boyfriend. You practically have to sneak him in half the time. He doesn’t exactly scream ‘danger.’”

I hated how much of a realist my black-haired bestie was.

“What do you mean, ‘dangerous vibes’?”

See, when I picked out a boyfriend, it was like choosing an outfit from a crowded closet. I chose one that looked good but wasn’t all that functional. Dumb, mostly. But sweet.
He gave me the attention I craved just enough for his balls to slap my ass and make me forget he couldn’t spell ‘possessive’ if I tattooed it on his chest.

And honestly? I loved it.

“You know the type who doesn’t sit on the couch all day playing video games, showering once a year like some overgrown grizzly bear.”

“I like grizzlies,” I said.

“Get over yourself,” Willina shot.

Eliza pulled herself up onto the pool’s edge, water cascading down her curves in shimmering sheets. “Gotta agree with Will on this one. Your boyfriend sucks. Just like all the security guards.”

“They don’t,”

“They do, Verra. Your musty little boyfriend wouldn’t survive a blackout, and the guards are no better.”

“They can do their job. They just don’t try when it comes to me.”

“No one puts their foot down with you. You control everyone from your rich white daddy to your pudgy boyfriend.”

My mouth fell open in mock horror. “Zhang is not pudgy! I’m just small, so he looks bigger. And I like the cuddles I have to force him to give me.”

“Your little druggie boyfriend is using you, mansion girlfriend,” Willina said flatly.

“What does that have to do with my stalker?”

“It means,” she growled, “your stalker probably smells and is ugly.”

Ugh. She was practically calling Zhang ugly.

But he wasn’t. He was beautiful. Calm blue eyes that could silence an entire room. So, what if he had no survival instincts? If I was staring into those eyes, something could chew my head off and I’d barely notice.

“Maybe he’s not ugly,” I muttered. “There’s a chance he’s actually hot. You know, statistically, the most attractive people are also the most dangerous.”

Eliza laughed, flicking her toes through the water like a bored child. “You really need to stop using Google as a personality.”

“It was proven by scientists.”

“Scientists,” Willina scoffed. “The world’s most convincing liars. What you need to do is tell your father. Let him get to the bottom of this.”

I waved her off. I wasn’t ready to bring Dad into this. Honestly, I didn’t even know how it started. The stalker thing. I just noticed it... around the fifth note.

Nothing serious. Just poems.

Little ones. All sunshine and rainbows. Nothing threatening. Nothing ominous. Nothing that should’ve caused a meltdown. Just harmless paper words and maybe a little obsessiveness. But something in those sweet lines still made my stomach flutter. Maybe that was the problem.

I think it’s just some guy trying to be romantic and honestly, I like it.
Nothing about it is creepy or annoying. If anything, he’s giving me better attention than my own father ever has. Whatever this stalker is doing… it’s beautiful. He's probably taking time off work or sneaking it in during work just to think about me.

He thinks about me.

I don’t mind being the center of someone’s universe. The main character in their head. The obsession in their bloodstream.

Dream about me...
Jerk off to me...
Fantasize about me...
Go out of your way to make me happy...
Drown for me...
Die for me...

I’m serious about that last one.

Victoria returned with the drinks. Eliza was already halfway through hers before the tray touched the edge of the pool.

“Vic, sit with us,” I said.

“Ms. Avlon...” Her tone was cautious, teetering on protest.

“Please, Vic. Daddy’s not here.”

My father was strict. I figured that out around age ten probably the age most kids realize what kind of person they’re dealing with. He’s a lot like me in some ways. Loves attention. Craves the spotlight. Always on the news, always flashing that blinding smile like the world exists to praise him.

“Very well,” Victoria murmured, slipping off her work flats and settling beside me at the pool’s edge.

Both of my friends shot her icy glances as she dipped her toes in. She giggled softly to herself. “So cold.”

“It’s pool water,” Eliza deadpanned. “Cold is all it knows.”

I took a slow sip from my glass and leaned back. “So, Vic... my friends think I’m delusional. They don’t believe my stalker could possibly be cute and handsome much like my boyfriend.”

Victoria hesitated. She looked between Eliza and Willina before glancing back at me. I gave her a pointed smile. Just threatening enough to make it clear; she better be on my side.

I like when people agree with me. Even if I’m wrong. Especially when I’m wrong. We all do, don’t we? I’m just more honest about it.

“He can be handsome,” Victoria side with me quietly.

“Exactly!” I shouted, pointing at her like she’d just unlocked the universe.

“But... he could also be dangerous,” she added. “He might be a psychopath.”

“A handsome psychopath?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, as long as he’s handsome, it’s not that bad.”

Willina scoffed. That sound from her asthmatic windpipe always meant she had something on her mind. “What is it?” I asked, already bracing myself.

“I just don’t understand your obsession with having a stalker who could literally kidnap you.”

“My life is boring. It needs something.”

“You sneak out every night,” Willina said. “You take pills, party, drink until you black out... What more kind of fun are you even looking for?”

“I don’t know. Maybe to live the life you guys have.”

They both looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“You’ve never worked a day in your life,” Eliza said. “We’re the ones who wish for your life.”

“I don’t work because my dad won’t let me,” I explained. “He’s ridiculously overbearing. But you do realize when he’s old and wrinkled, I’ll have to take over the company, right? I’m just on vacation until then.”

Willina shook her head. “I still think having a stalker for almost six months is insane.”

I wasn’t even sure he counted as a full-blown stalker. He sent a few notes. That’s it.
Okay, maybe I felt his eyes on me sometimes...But I had bodyguards following me everywhere. Could’ve been one of them. Either way it was entertaining.

“He’ll give up in less than a year. I guarantee it.”

“That’s the thing,” Victoria said, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. He could be anyone; even your own friends.”

I looked over at Willina and Eliza.

They both immediately shook their heads.

“Nope,” Eliza said.

“Not a chance,” Willina added. “We’re not obsessed with you. Never in this life. I definitely don’t like girls. Besides... you’re not exactly lovable. Honestly.”

I rolled my eyes. “See? It’s not them.”

“Maybe it’s you,” Eliza said, narrowing her eyes at Victoria.

“I have mouths to feed,” Vic replied calmly. “Having a crush on a pillow princess would be the least of my priorities.”

“Hold on, did you just compliment and insult me in the same sentence?”

“No. I’m just saying I wouldn’t be sending love notes to anyone; especially you. There’s no sense pointing fingers.”

“Coming from the girl who just pointed fingers at us.”

“Ladies, ladies, ladies...” I said, holding my hands up like I was breaking up a playground fight. “We don’t know who the stalker is. But it’s really not worth stressing over.”

I stood up. Immediately, Vic rushed to the chair holding the towels and brought mine over with care.

“A stalker isn’t so bad,” I said lightly, wrapping the towel around me. “Now come on. We’ve got outfits to pick for tonight.”

**********

As my father placed a single pea into his mouth, his eyes locked on me.

I smiled. My legs were trembling under the table. He’d picked up on something. Whatever it was. He was about to say it out loud.

I hated conversations with my father. The only time I wanted to communicate with him was to check on his health or to talk about money. His wealth was like the sun. If it ever stopped burning, everything in my world would freeze.

If he died, the money stopped flowing. If the money stopped, I’d be poor.

So I built my life like a fortress; one designed to keep my accounts healthier than I was.
I had no problem dying and leaving all of this behind. But if it died and left me behind? That was a kind of torment I couldn’t survive.

“How are you feeling, Father?” I asked sweetly. “Did the chef prepare things the way you like?”

He had to hire a chef now. That wasn’t always the case.

He used to have a wife—my dear mother. But she wasn’t like us. Not like me. Not like him.
She was humble.

And he hated that.

Among other things.

She used to cook every meal. She moved through the house like a servant. Because that’s what she wanted to be. I’d say my mother was doing well...

“Yes,” I answered.

Then I gave the chef a casual thumbs-up. He nodded, said nothing, and quickly disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Verra, my darling,” my father said.

“Hm? Yes, Daddy?”

“Are you hiding something from me?”

Immediately, my mind went to my mother. He’d divorced her when I was fourteen and cut off all contact. But I’d been seeing her secretly ever since.

He hates her. What’s strange is he doesn’t seem to hate me, even though I look exactly like her. Same dark skin, same stunning features, the same unshakable confidence that radiated from her like sunlight. She still has that. She’s been doing well for herself. I know that much.
I hadn’t spoken to her in about a month, though, thanks to a petty argument. Still... a month doesn’t erase everything.

“No,”

“Are you sure, darling?” he pushed.

I mean... yes, I was planning to sneak out again tonight. But that didn’t mean he knew about it. My bodyguard would never betray me like that. He was practically programmed not to.

“Yes,” I repeated.

“Then why is your meal untouched?” he asked, directly. “Are you worried about something?”

Truth was, I hadn’t touched my food because I needed space for all the liquor I was planning to down later.

“No, Daddy.”

“Very well,” he said, dabbing his mouth and throwing the napkin onto the table; much harsher than necessary. That’s when I noticed the irritation etched across his forehead. He wasn’t aging particularly well. Nothing a month in a spa wouldn’t fix, but still he was healthy, stubborn, and still kicking like a damn horse. That was good enough. For now.

Then I saw him pick up a piece of paper.

My stomach dropped.

I looked down at my plate and finally started eating, pretending like I didn’t care.

“Baron has brought something to my attention,” he began.

“Who’s Baron?”

My stalker?

“You’re serious, girl?” he snapped. His tone was rising, like a hot spring bubbling up.

“I—I don’t know who Baron is,” I said quickly. “Could you fill me in?”

“Your bodyguard,” he muttered, voice deep and tired.

“Oh.”

Shit. I didn’t even know my own bodyguard’s name.

“Oh.”

“He found this note along with several others in your room,” he said, holding up the paper. “He believes they’re from a potential stalker.”

I couldn’t tell him it was from my boyfriend. That would open a whole new vault of hell.

He’d insist on meeting him. Let’s be honest; Zhang wouldn’t exactly pass the test. My father likes men in suits. Men with ambition. Men with integrity. Men with money. Men who look like they could run the world.

I attract the opposite.

Don’t get me wrong. I have suitors. Good ones, even. But I love my boyfriend. He’s fun. Easy. A little wild. And, most importantly...He’s not stuck-up like the rest.

“Uh... just my friends goofing around,”

“I want the truth, Verra.”

“Daddy, I think you’re tired,” I deflected smoothly. “Maybe you should get some rest, and we can talk about this later.”

“Do you have a stalker?”

“No. Baron is being paranoid. He’s fired.”

“He’s not fired. I’ve already had him set up surveillance around the mansion.”

Shit.

How was I supposed to sneak my dumb boyfriend in now?

“Is that really necessary, Father?”

“It absolutely is. How long has this been going on?”

“It’s just some guy with too much time on his hands. It’s not like he can get close not with your security detail tracking my every move.”

“I want you to stay within the estate grounds. No exceptions.”

“You’re overreacting. Maybe those notes were even meant for you?”

“They had your name on them,” he said coldly. “Signed. Sealed.”

Damn it.

There was no talking my way out of this, was there?

“Fine. Yes. I have a stalker. We don’t know who it is. Could be one of your enemies for all we know. You’re the one with a life full of powerful people, not me. I shouldn’t be punished for the dangers your life attracts.”

“Save the dramatics for your friends. You’re staying in.”

We’ll see about that.

My father turned his back more often than he realized, and the guards he had assigned to me were laughably easy to manipulate. Toss them a shiny enough deal, and they chased it like dogs after a bone.

“I’ll stay in,” I said sweetly.

“Good. If you do go out, you’ll notify me. I’ll assign additional guards.”

“Sure.”

“Verra.”

“Hm?”

“This is for your own good.”

“Of course.” I smirked.

There was no need to throw a tantrum. I had my lifestyle when his back was turned, and my sweet, obedient daughter act whenever his sharp hazel eyes, flecked with gold were watching.

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