My Bodyguard Keeps My Secrets And My Underwear Chapter 08

My Bodyguard Keeps My Secrets And My Underwear Chapter 08

“I’m warning you.” Preston’s voice was cold enough to freeze glass. “Go near Hazel again, and the second I

take over Vance Corporation, I’ll bury Kensington Enterprises.”

His eyes were bloodshot, and something inside me snapped.

I slapped him across the face.

“I don’t care what you do with your life. But THAT was for slamming me into a wall.”

The red mark blooming across his cheek was deeply, unreasonably satisfying.

“You – you hit me?” Preston stared at me like I’d just spoken a language he didn’t understand.

A few weeks ago, I would’ve never dreamed of it. I used to save his voicemails and replay them like love songs.

Honestly?

I must’ve been out of my mind.

I was filthy rich. I was gorgeous. And the world was full of men who’d actually want me.

Why had I wasted years on someone who couldn’t stand the sight of me?

“So what if I did? Stay out of my way from now on, Preston. Next time you come at me, I won’t stop at a slap.”

“You’re not even CEO yet

you’re just an heir apparent. And let’s not forget who helped get you this far. Your dad has other sons. My dad has one daughter. Do the math on which one of us is more replaceable.”

“Make my life difficult, and I’ll pull every string my family has. You’ll be out before you even get the corner

office.”

I held his gaze until he had nothing left.

Preston let out a bitter laugh. “What is this blackmail? Trying to force me to be with you?”

“Get over yourself. I don’t want you anymore.”

“I’m telling you to stay away from me. Looking at you now makes my skin crawl.”

I turned my back on him and walked off the rooftop without looking back.

[The villainess is SO dead the villain is furious right now.]

[I just got a peek at what the villain bought for her and I am SCREAMING. I can’t even say it. HELP.]

[Villain, PLEASE just go full possessive already. Show this girl what real love looks like!]

Reading those comments, a treacherous spark of anticipation flickered in my chest. But when I pushed through the stairwell doors and glanced at Declan waiting at the bottom, his face was perfectly blank. If anything, he seemed more composed than usual.

Were the comments wrong about him after all?

A few days bled into each other.

Nothing happened.

No dramatic reveals.

No possessive outbursts.

Just silence

and the silence was driving me crazy.

So I’did something I’d never done before.

I went to an upscale club alone.

A few drinks in, the room was starting to swim. That’s when I spotted a figure across the VIP lounge that looked like Declan. I blinked, sure the alcohol was playing tricks on me.

But no

it was him.

Except he looked nothing like the Declan I knew.

A custom–tailored black suit. An expensive watch catching the light on his wrist. Hair slicked back instead of falling in his face.

He looked like someone who owned things – buildings, companies, people.

I stared, trying to make my drunk brain reconcile this version of him with the one who sat quietly at his desk doing homework.

The comments had mentioned it Declan was the heir to the Thorne Group, one of the biggest conglomerates in the country.

Of course he’d look like this in his own world.

This version of Declan didn’t need me.

He didn’t need to be anyone’s bodyguard.

The ache hadn’t even settled before I saw him intercept Hazel she was working as a server, tray in hand

and lean in close, talking to her like they’d known each other for years.

Something hot and irrational tore through me. I was off the leather booth before I even knew what I was doing, stumbling toward them – but a hand caught my arm halfway there.

“Hey, gorgeous. Where are you going in such a hurry? Come have a drink with me.”

The man crowded closer, grinning. Over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Declan steering Hazel toward the back exit.

Panic shot through me.

I ripped my arm free.

“Get off me. Don’t touch me!”

“Oh, so you wanna play it like that?”

His face twisted into something ugly, and he reached for me again. A boot slammed into his ribs before his fingers got close, and he went sprawling across the floor.

I was too drunk to make out his face. All I registered was a broad back and the distinct feeling that whoever this was could’ve snapped the creep in half.

Then I was off the ground–slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Put me DOWN!” I thrashed against his back, hammering my fists. “I need to find that two–faced ditched me for some girl and I’m going to KILL him —”

Smack.

An open palm landed square on my ass.

“Keep squirming, and I’ll make sure you never see Preston again.”