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The following morning brought an unusual quietness to Harper’s home. The tension that had crackled between her and Damien the previous night still hung in the air, though neither of them acknowledged it. Harper woke early, determined to stick to her usual routine despite the circumstances. After all, if there was one thing she could control, it was how she started her day.
She padded into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, and set to work brewing a cup of coffee. The smell of freshly ground beans filled the space, providing a momentary comfort. But even as she went through the motions, she couldn’t shake the growing sense of unease. She wasn’t used to this—having someone in her space, watching her every move. It felt suffocating, even if Damien wasn’t saying a word.
And that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? Damien never said anything unless absolutely necessary. He didn’t engage in small talk, didn’t make any effort to get to know her, and certainly didn’t offer any reassurances. He was all business, all the time. It made her wonder what was going on inside that head of his. Did he see her as just another assignment? Another job to complete before moving on to the next?
Harper sighed as she poured her coffee, trying to push the thoughts aside. She had enough on her plate without obsessing over her bodyguard’s emotional state. But as she stirred in some cream, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Damien appeared in the doorway, dressed in his usual all-black attire, his face as unreadable as ever.
"Good morning," Harper said, her voice carefully neutral.
"Morning," Damien replied with a curt nod.
He crossed the kitchen, moving with the same quiet, controlled energy he always had. Harper watched him from the corner of her eye as he poured himself a glass of water. Even the simple act of standing in her kitchen seemed out of place for him, as if he was too large, too serious, to be doing something so mundane.
They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Harper took a sip of her coffee, wondering if she should say something—anything—to break the awkwardness.
"So," she began, her voice a little too loud in the quiet space, "is this how it’s going to be? You following me around 24/7, standing in doorways like some sort of robot?"
Damien didn’t react to the jab. He simply turned to face her, his expression as neutral as ever. "My job is to protect you. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to make sure that happens."
Harper raised an eyebrow, annoyed by his stoicism. "Right. And that includes standing outside my bedroom door all night?"
"If that’s what it takes."
She set her coffee down on the counter, frustration bubbling up inside her. "Look, I get that you’re here to keep me safe, but this is my home. I don’t need you hovering over me like I’m some sort of helpless damsel."
Damien’s gaze didn’t waver. "You’re not helpless, but you are a target."
The words hit harder than Harper expected, the reality of the situation settling in her chest like a weight. She opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, unsure of what to say. He was right, of course. As much as she hated to admit it, she was a target. Someone had been watching her, threatening her, and she had no idea how far they were willing to go.
But that didn’t mean she had to like being treated like a fragile piece of glass.
Harper exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "This isn’t easy for me, you know? I’m not used to... this. To feeling like I can’t handle my own life."
"I know," Damien said quietly, surprising her with the softness in his tone. "But that’s why I’m here."
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like days. There was something different in his eyes—something she hadn’t seen before. Empathy, maybe. Understanding. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, Harper didn’t know how to respond.
"You don’t seem like the empathetic type," she said before she could stop herself.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Damien’s mouth, though it disappeared just as quickly. "I’m not."
Harper chuckled despite herself, shaking her head. "Well, you could’ve fooled me. I thought robots didn’t feel emotions."
"Maybe I’m a different kind of robot," Damien replied dryly, a hint of humor in his voice.
The unexpected banter caught Harper off guard, and for a moment, the tension between them eased. She found herself relaxing, if only slightly. It was strange, this push-pull between them. One minute they were at odds, the next they were sharing a rare moment of connection. It made her wonder if there was more to Damien than he let on.
"Maybe," she said, taking another sip of her coffee. "So, what’s the plan for today? More shadowing, more door-standing?"
Damien’s expression shifted back to business, his brief moment of levity gone. "I’ll follow your lead. Whatever you have planned, I’ll be there."
Harper sighed, already feeling the weight of his words. It was hard to focus on anything when she knew someone was lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. But she couldn’t put her life on hold forever. She had commitments, followers, and a business to run. Hiding away wasn’t an option.
"I’m meeting with a brand rep later today," she said, trying to focus on the task at hand. "They want to discuss a potential collaboration."
"Where’s the meeting?"
"A café downtown."
Damien nodded, his mind already working through the logistics. "I’ll need the address. We’ll leave thirty minutes early so I can assess the area."
"Assess the area?" Harper echoed, raising an eyebrow. "It’s a café, not a war zone."
"That’s the point of assessing it," Damien replied calmly. "If there’s a threat, I need to know the layout, the exits, and any potential risks."
Harper rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t argue with his logic. "Fine. Whatever you need to do."
As they finished their conversation, Harper couldn’t shake the feeling that today was going to be different. There was a strange undercurrent in the air, a tension that hadn’t been there before. And it wasn’t just between her and Damien. It was something else—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She only hoped she was wrong.
The café was bustling with activity when they arrived later that afternoon. It was one of those trendy places with exposed brick walls, hanging plants, and overpriced coffee. Harper had been here before for meetings, but today felt different. The normalcy of the place contrasted sharply with the heightened awareness she now carried with her everywhere.
As they approached, Damien stepped ahead, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced intensity. He walked through the entrance first, his gaze sweeping the room for potential threats, before turning back to her with a curt nod. Only then did Harper follow him inside, feeling a little silly at how seriously he was taking the situation.
"I’m meeting someone at the back," Harper said, nodding toward a table near the window where the brand rep was already seated.
Damien followed her gaze and took up a position near the entrance, his back to the wall so he could see the entire café. Harper shook her head as she made her way to the table, feeling his presence like a shadow over her every move.
"Harper! So great to see you!" The woman at the table greeted her with a bright smile, standing to give her a quick hug.
"Hey, Tina," Harper replied, forcing herself to focus. "Thanks for meeting me."
They exchanged pleasantries as they sat down, and Harper tried her best to focus on the conversation. But her mind kept wandering back to Damien, who was standing like a statue near the door, his eyes never resting on any one person for too long. It was like he was waiting for something—or someone.
"I’ve been following your content for a while now," Tina said, launching into her pitch. "We think you’d be a perfect fit for our new body-positive line. It’s something we’ve been working on for a long time, and we really want to make sure we get it right."
Harper nodded, trying to keep her mind on the discussion. She had worked with brands like this before—companies that wanted to cash in on the body-positivity movement without fully committing to the message. But Tina seemed genuine enough, and Harper appreciated that. Still, it was hard to focus when she could feel Damien’s gaze moving over the room like a silent, watchful sentinel.
"I’d love to take a look at what you’ve got," Harper said, leaning in. "I’m always excited to partner with brands that truly understand the importance of inclusivity."
Tina smiled brightly, clearly relieved. "Great! I’ll send over some samples for you to review, and we can go from there."
They continued discussing the details of the collaboration, but Harper couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. And not just by Damien. There was something else, something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
She glanced around the café, her eyes scanning the faces of the other patrons. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. People were sipping their lattes, typing on their laptops, and chatting with friends. But still, the feeling persisted.
"Is everything okay?" Tina asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Yeah," Harper said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just... distracted, I guess."
Tina nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine it’s a lot to juggle. You’re doing such important work, though. Don’t let anything—"
The sound of shattering glass cut Tina off mid-sentence.
Harper jumped, her heart racing as she whipped her head toward the source of the noise. A glass had fallen off a table nearby, its remnants scattered across the floor. A waiter rushed over to clean it up, but Harper’s pulse was still pounding in her ears.
Her eyes darted toward Damien, who was already in motion. He moved toward her with a speed and precision that sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Damien didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and measured. "We’re leaving. Now."
Harper blinked, startled by the sudden change in his tone. “But—”
"Now," Damien repeated, his hand already on her arm, guiding her toward the exit.
Tina looked confused but didn’t protest as Harper was pulled from the table. "I’ll follow up with you later," Harper called over her shoulder, her heart still racing.
They moved quickly toward the door, Damien’s body positioned between her and the rest of the café. Harper didn’t know what had set him off, but she could feel the tension radiating from him like a live wire.
Once they were outside, Damien ushered her toward the SUV parked a few feet away. "Get in."
Harper complied, her mind still reeling from the sudden shift in events. She slid into the passenger seat as Damien climbed in behind the wheel, his jaw tight.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded as he started the engine.
Damien didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, scanning the street before pulling out of the parking lot.
"Damien!" Harper snapped, her anxiety flaring. "Talk to me. What’s going on?"
"There was someone watching you," he said finally, his voice clipped. "Same guy from before—the one who was outside your house."
Harper’s stomach dropped. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Damien replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
Harper sank back in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been so focused on her meeting, so determined to carry on with her life, that she hadn’t even noticed. But Damien had. He had seen the threat before she did—just like always.
"Why didn’t you say something sooner?" she asked, her voice shaky.
"I didn’t want to cause a scene unless I was sure," Damien said, his eyes still focused on the road. "But when the glass broke, I saw him move. He was watching you."
Harper swallowed hard, trying to process the information. "What does this guy want?"
"Hard to say," Damien replied. "But he’s been following you long enough to know your schedule. That’s not a coincidence."
Harper’s mind raced, the fear she had been pushing down for days now bubbling to the surface. She had known the threats were serious, but hearing it from Damien—hearing that someone had been watching her so closely—made it all too real.
"What do we do now?" she asked quietly.
Damien’s jaw tightened. "We increase security. I’ll have someone else come in to help. But for now, we need to keep a low profile."
"A low profile?" Harper repeated, incredulous. "I can’t just disappear. I have a business to run. Followers. Commitments."
Damien glanced at her, his expression hard. "And you also have a stalker who knows where you live."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Harper looked away, her chest tight with fear and frustration. She hated this—hated feeling like she had no control over her own life. But she couldn’t deny the reality of the situation. Someone was after her, and she had no idea why.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice laced with defeat. "But I’m not disappearing. We’ll do things your way—for now. But this doesn’t mean I’m giving up my life."
Damien didn’t respond, but she could tell he wasn’t happy about her decision. He wanted her to go into hiding, to stay out of sight until they figured out who was behind the threats. But Harper couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t.
She had worked too hard to get where she was. She wasn’t about to let some faceless coward scare her into hiding.
As they drove in silence, Harper couldn’t help but glance at Damien from the corner of her eye. He was as calm and controlled as ever, his focus completely on the task at hand. But beneath that stoic exterior, Harper sensed something else—a determination, a protectiveness that went beyond his duty as her bodyguard.
For the first time since this whole ordeal had started, Harper felt a flicker of something other than fear.
She felt... safe.
