I'm Your Bodyguard, Not Your Slave

Monica's eyes widened the moment she saw her dresses scattered across the ground, spilled from their shopping bags. For a moment, she simply stared at them in disbelief.

No one had ever dared humiliate her like this before. Most people didn't even dare look her in the eye, let alone throw her belongings onto the ground. And by whom? Her own bodyguard.

What is wrong with today? Have I suddenly become everyone's punching bag? she thought, anger boiling inside her.

"What the hell is this?" she spat. "How dare you?"

"You're the one who dares humiliate me like that." Marcello snapped. "I'm your bodyguard, not your slave." He raised a warning finger at her. "Don't you ever do something like that again."

Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as she glared at him. He hadn't just humiliated her. He was threatening her, pointing his finger in her face as though she were beneath him. The anger Sam left inside her clashed with the fury Marcello had just triggered. It was too much.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she raised her hand to slap him, but he shot forward and caught her wrist, stopping her instantly.

"Listen to me, woman," he said through clenched teeth, his fingers tightening around her wrist. "If you're not the kind of woman who hides behind a man, then I'm not the kind of man who lets anyone disrespect him, no matter who they are. Especially not a spoiled princess like you."

"Let go of me, you bastard," she snapped, struggling to free her wrist, but his grip only tightened even more.

"Be glad you're a woman. If you were a man, I’d have broken your arm without a second thought," he hissed.

"I said let me go, you psycho," she shouted in his face, her eyes blazing.

He didn't answer, ignoring the profanities she hurled at him. He only glared at her for a moment before coldly releasing her wrist.

She immediately rubbed the sore spot on her wrist with her other hand before taking a slow step toward him. She tilted her chin up, one eyebrow arching in arrogance. "You're fired," she said. "As of this moment, you're no longer working for me."

She took a few steps away, then suddenly stopped and turned to him. "Oh, let me tell you one more thing." She pointed toward the scattered dresses.

"I don't need those anymore. Monica De Rossi doesn't wear clothes that have touched the ground like some people."

She rested her chin on her hand with her elbow supported by the other arm, "I'll donate them to your girlfriend instead." Her gaze swept over him with open disdain. "I'm sure any woman willing to date someone like you wouldn't be picky at all."

She let out a short, mocking laugh. "Are you even in a relationship?" she asked in a sarcastic tone. "I seriously doubt it. You don't deserve to have a woman in your life. The only woman who'd settle for someone like you must have completely given up on life."

She intended to wound him deeply with her words, and she expected them to strike a nerve, Instead he burst out laughing! He wanted to tell her she was the woman who wouldn’t just love him, but would fall for him completely.

"What exactly is so funny? Are you insane?" she lashed out. "You're fired. Don't come back to the mansion."

She turned on her heel and walked away, but after only a few steps, his voice stopped her. "So Rapunzel’s back to hiding in her tower again?" he scoffed.

Was he mocking her now? she thought.

She tightened her fists, her nails biting into her palms. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself before turning to him, refusing to let him see her anger. "I’m not a coward to hide. I'll go back to my life like before you ever showed up."

A smirk tugged at his mouth. "And how exactly are you planning to do that? Your mother won't let you leave the house."

She scoffed softly. "Are you the only bodyguard on this planet? I'll just hire another one. It's not that complicated."

He stepped closer. "Mrs. Silvia won't agree," he said, his voice confident. "I’m the only one she allows you to go out with, because she trusts me to keep you safe, just like I did with your brother."

She cast him a scornful look. "Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that important."

"Umm, So why didn’t your family hire someone before me if it was really that simple?"

She wanted to punch him in the face. She hated that he was right. Her mother wouldn’t agree to another bodyguard, and she would simply tell her to keep hiding inside the damn mansion.

She sighed impatiently. "Where are you going with this?"

"I'm not exactly thrilled about being stuck with someone as arrogant as you. And you're mistaken if you think I need this job more than you need me. The only reason I'm putting up with you is Marco. He asked me to protect you, and I didn't want to let him down because he's a nice person, unlike you."

"So, since we're stuck with each other for a while, let's make it bearable. But there are going to be a few ground rules."

She folded her arms across her chest. "What kind of rules?"

"Treat me with respect." His voice was firm. "It’s that simple. Can you manage that?"

"Yes," she replied curtly. "I can." Her eyes burned holes through his soul.

"Good."

Without another word, he stepped past her, his shoulder brushing lightly against hers as he walked away toward the car, leaving her standing there alone.

"Fine, Marcello, if putting up with you for now means getting my freedom back, then I would do it," she whispered to herself.

She took two steps toward the pillar in front of her and rested her hand against it. "And when the son of a bitch who had dared to threaten me was finally caught, I would be the one to grab you by the collar and kick your ass out of my mansion." A sly smile curved her lips as excitement flickered across her face at the thought.