All Chapters of Married to my bodyguard : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The road stretches endlessly ahead of us, a ribbon of black asphalt slicing through the night. Cole drives like the darkness is chasing us, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh as if anchoring me to the present. The dashboard lights cast his face in sharp angles—jaw clenched, eyes alert, body coiled with the kind of tension that never really leaves him. I stare out the window, watching trees blur into shadows, my reflection ghosted in the glass. Every mile we put between us and that cove should make me feel safer. It doesn’t. My phone still feels heavy in my pocket, like it’s burning through fabric and skin. You’re still mine. The words replay again and again, a cruel echo that won’t shut up. “He planned it,” I say suddenly, my voice cracking through the silence. “Every part of it.” Cole’s thumb presses gently into my thigh. “I know.” “I trusted him,” I continue, anger bubbling hot and uncontrollable. “I defended him. I made excuses for him my entire li

The road stretches endlessly ahead of us, a ribbon of black asphalt slicing through the night. Cole drives like the darkness is chasing us, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh as if anchoring me to the present. The dashboard lights cast his face in sharp angles—jaw clenched, eyes alert, body coiled with the kind of tension that never really leaves him. I stare out the window, watching trees blur into shadows, my reflection ghosted in the glass. Every mile we put between us and that cove should make me feel safer. It doesn’t. My phone still feels heavy in my pocket, like it’s burning through fabric and skin. You’re still mine. The words replay again and again, a cruel echo that won’t shut up. “He planned it,” I say suddenly, my voice cracking through the silence. “Every part of it.” Cole’s thumb presses gently into my thigh. “I know.” “I trusted him,” I continue, anger bubbling hot and uncontrollable. “I defended him. I made excuses for him my entire li

The candle burns low between us, its flame wavering with every breath I take. The cabin is quiet again, the forest outside settling into a nocturnal hush, but my nerves are still humming. Cole sits across from me at the small wooden table, his forearms braced on the surface, his posture deceptively relaxed. I know better. He’s coiled tight beneath the calm. I turn the mug in my hands, watching the steam curl upward. I don’t drink. I don’t trust my hands not to shake. “I figured it out,” I say finally. Cole’s eyes lift to mine. Sharp. Searching. “Figured what out?” “The kidnapping,” I reply. My voice surprises me—steady, even. “I know it was staged.” The candle pops softly. The sound feels loud in the silence that follows. Cole doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. The only thing that gives him away is the slight tightening of his jaw. I swallow. “Not fake. Not harmless. But controlled. Designed. My father didn’t want me dead. He wanted me scared enough to stop running.” “That’s a

Dawn doesn’t arrive gently. It creeps in like it’s afraid of what it might find—thin light leaking through the trees, catching on wet leaves and the edges of stone. The forest smells raw and green, damp earth and cold water, and my body feels just as exposed.We stop near a ravine carved deep into the land, hidden from any road or trail. Cole signals silently, two fingers raised, then curls his fist. Safe enough. For now.I lower myself onto a flat rock beside the stream, my legs trembling with exhaustion I’ve been ignoring for hours. My shoes are soaked, my muscles screaming, but the pain is distant compared to the storm still raging inside me.My father ordered my kidnapping.The thought still doesn’t feel real. It feels staged, like everything else he’s ever done to control me.Cole doesn’t sit. He never does when he’s on edge. He paces the perimeter, shoulders tight, eyes sharp, every sense tuned outward. He looks carved from tension, like if he stops moving he’ll shatter.“Cole,”

The hum grows teeth. That’s the only way I can describe it—how the sound outside sharpens, vibrating through the frozen air, through the walls of the cabin, through my bones. Cole has already moved, sliding me off his lap with a gentleness that clashes violently with the look on his face. Pure focus. Pure danger. “Get dressed,” he says, voice low, controlled. “Now.” My hands shake as I reach for my sweater. The fire still crackles behind us, obscene in its warmth, like it doesn’t understand the rules have changed again. My phone vibrates once more on the table. I grab it without thinking. No number. Just coordinates. My stomach drops. Cole sees it in my face. “What is it?” I hold the screen up. “This.” His jaw tightens as he reads. He doesn’t swear. That scares me more than if he did. “Satellite ping,” he says. “They didn’t track the cabin. They tracked you.” The words sting, hot and humiliating. “I turned everything off. I didn’t—” “I know.” He cups my face briefly, gro