Chevalier de Guiscard hated billionaires. Pompous, egotistical, every last one of them convinced that enough money could buy anything—including him. "Well, the last part isn't entirely wrong," he admitted to himself, checking the time on his military-grade watch. "They hire me. They get their money's worth." His services didn't come cheap. An hour of his time could bankrupt a lesser man. He was the best in the industry, full stop—he'd once worked a detail for the Vice President himself. His résumé alone put the rest of the industry to shame: a stint in the Marine Corps, a decade as an independent contractor in Vietnam and Afghanistan, jobs quietly done for the CIA, the Pentagon, the FBI. He'd finally put down roots as a security consultant in Norwich City. Not that it mattered much—his clients' jet-setting lifestyles dragged him to a new country every other month anyway. His agent had a name for it: 'posh security whore.' Guiscard didn't entirely disagree. Right now, that lif

"Guiscard is late!" Tessa announced—for the third time in ten minutes. "This is unacceptable. Can we please just hire someone else?" Ashley was digging through her phone messages. The freelancer agency had sent her a profile of the security expert. "I was assured he was the best in the business," Ashley said, not looking up. "Why settle for anyone but the ace?" "Is it normal for the best in the business to bail on his clients? Perhaps another billionaire made him a better offer, which he accepted?" "That's not likely, Tess," Ashley said. "The agency doesn't allow back-channel recruitment. His contract means he can't take another client until I formally cancel." "Well, it appears he didn't get the memo," Tessa said, complete with air quotes. "Wait, let me go through his profile again. Can I project the documents on your monitors?" "Sure." Ashley shared the agency files on the triple monitors of Tessa's workstation. [Name: CHEVALIER DE GUISCARD] [Experience] ----A total of 23

If Ashley was honest, she was more impressed than upset by the whole stunt. But as his employer, she couldn't let that show—not if she wanted to keep an ounce of authority over a man like this. She wasn't about to let a security guard treat her like an easy mark for the length of his contract. She'd had more than enough people walk over her lately. "Pardonnez-moi. It was a one-time demonstration, ma'am," Guiscard said. "It took me only an hour to plan. But you have my word—it won't happen again." "Thank you," Ashley said. "I think it's safe to say you're hired." "I'm pleased to hear that." "So! Chevy!" Tessa chimed in, her Long Island iced tea long gone and her usual grating confidence fully restored. "So how exactly do you describe yourself? Security guard? Bodyguard? Glorified bouncer?" The demonstration had clearly bruised her pride. Apparently billionaire teenagers had fragile egos too. "I'd call myself a friend with benefits. My benefit being the f*e I charge, yours being t

[Scarlet: Hey, sis! Where are you? It's all over the news. Mom and Dad have been calling you, too!] [Scarlet: Are you safe? I called the hotel; they told me you'd left when the incident happened] [Scarlet: Hey! Jake just texted me you're with Tessa. Thank God, Ashley!] [Scarlet: Call me as soon as you can] "The bitch," Ashley muttered, scrolling through her stepsister's messages. "How she wriggles in defeat." Ashley's early detour to meet Tessa had quietly torn apart whatever plan Scarlet had been running. Some childish part of her wanted to call right now and unload everything she knew, just to watch the panic set in. But she'd learned that lesson already, in another life. That kind of satisfaction got people killed. Play along. That was the only move that mattered. Information was leverage, and she wasn't burning her only advantage until she had proof solid enough to bury Scarlet for good. Otherwise, this second chance at life would mean nothing. [Ashley: Hey, sweet

The two men laughed at her some more. "Pogledajte je u panici!" [Look at her panicking!] "Who are you?" Ashley demanded. "Let me go at once!" Pavlov smirked at her. "Ona govori! Razgovaras sa njom, Nic. Moj engleski je sranje." [Ah, she speaks! You talk to her, Nic. My English is shit.] The bearded man leaned closer to Ashley. "Greetings, Miss. I am Nicolai. My associate here is Pavlov. As you can see, you are under our, uh, protective care." Ashley widened her eyes, gathered whatever strength she had left, and screamed at the top of her lungs. Both men clapped their hands over their ears—then Pavlov crossed to the table and backhanded her across the face. Ashley saw stars. She tasted blood. "Miss, no one can hear you," Nicolai continued. "We're on the twenty-second floor of a building under construction. That said, we'd appreciate it if you didn't make any more noise." "My associate Pavlov is sensitive to loud sounds. He once cut the tongue out of a captive who wouldn't stop s