The club was loud, crowded, and full of trouble.I was 20, spoiled, and tonight I was pushing every limit — short silver dress that barely covered my ass, heels that made my legs look endless, and a attitude that screamed “catch me if you can.”My father had hired a new private bodyguard after a recent security threat. I hated it. I hated being watched.But when the fight broke out near the VIP section and hands started grabbing at me, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around my waist and pulled me out of the chaos.Jax Kane.He was 38, tall and powerfully built, ex-special forces, with broad shoulders, sharp jaw, and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see everything. He moved like a predator — calm, efficient, and unstoppable.He didn’t say a word as he guided me through the back exit and into the armored SUV waiting in the alley.The moment the door closed and the driver pulled away, the silence in the backseat was deafening.I was still breathing hard, adrenaline and alcohol mixing in m
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