Special Bodyguard Novel Mga Nobela at Kwento

a voice yelled and pulled me before I was run over by the car. I stumbled to the ground, my head resting on chest of this strange figure. When I raised my head to him, I was met with a set of dangerous blue eyes staring back at me. Short brown hair, tight jaw and a bit of a mustache, he was gorgeous. I had no idea men like this could be bodyguards, he would excel more if he were a model. He gently pulled me off the ground, and before I knew it, I was spun around. The sound of a gunshot flew past my ears, blood splattered on my face.

“I’m frightened too. I don’t know who’s still out there, or what they want, or how much of my own life has been shaped by hands I never saw. But I know this. I know what it feels like when you hold my hand like this. I know that’s mine. That’s not anyone’s plan but our own.” He was quiet for a long moment, and then, slowly, he lifted his head and looked at me with something steadier than fear. “I want to make you a promise,” he said. “Not the kind soldiers make. Not duty. Something that’s just mine to give.” “Okay.” “Whatever comes next — the Architect, my father, Marcus’s father, whoever else is still hiding somewhere in all of this — I’m not doing it as your bodyguard anymore. I’m doing it

Not even when Adrien stared back. “Adrien’s heartbeat quickened faster, and uneven, though his face stayed unreadable. He hated being watched, especially like that.” “Who’s he?” Adrien muttered to Isabella. “He’s Damien Wolfe. Security’s pick after… the threats.” She said it flat, but her mouth tightened. “Ex-military. And he starts tomorrow.” Adrien’s jaw clenched. The anonymous emails, the cryptic voicemails, he had ignored them, and deleted them. He didn’t need a guard dog. “I don’t want him.”

Expensive cars moved through the streets—Bentleys, Lamborghinis, Rolls-Royces—tires crunching snow, headlights cutting yellow beams. But the bodyguards were everywhere. Men in white camouflage that blended with the drifts, rifles slung low. Others in black tactical gear, patrolling in pairs, earpieces glinting under street lamps. The place looked peaceful, but it felt guarded, like every street corner had eyes watching. I was lost in the sight—the snow-covered roofs, smoke curling from chimneys, moonlight making everything glow—when I felt heat on my skin. Enzo’s gaze. I looked down and caught him staring. My nipples were swollen, pushing hard against the thin blue top.

Ghost told me before disappearing. As instructed, I quickly locked the door before approaching Grandpa, a wide smile on my face. "Grandpa!" "Zara Bear. What's going on? Why did you lock the door? And who was that?" Grandpa asked curiously. "Nothing. I just don't want to be disturbed while I'm with you. And that's my bodyguard. His name is Ghost." "Bodyguard?" He squinted. "You have a bodyguard now? Are you safe? Why do you need a bodyguard? And how did you get the money for one?"

"Half these people are from Dasha. That doesn't mean anything." "But your old bodyguard was Buff, a Manand local. That's got to count for something," said Smith. Demi looked at him. "So I changed bodyguards. What's wrong with that?" "Get him!" Smith ordered sharply, uncaring of what Demi had to say. The bodyguards exploded with spiritual energy at once, and fierce winds kicked up in the room. One of the bodyguards reached out to grab Wilbur's shoulder while the other one threw a punch at Wilbur's stomach.

Derek sat beside Verss, while the man was already sitting in front of Verss, enjoying his breakfast again. This morning Gale, his new bodyguard is already wearing an apron and cooking. He doesn't say much but he can do anything. Cook, sew, clean the house, wash clothes. He is multi-tasking and also has a sharp ear. Verss remembers well when he just woke up still with a wobbly body going to the dining table to reach for his milk in the refrigerator. Which turned out to have been prepared in a glass in a warm condition on the table along with the sunny-side-up eggs he liked. Haven't put his ass on the chair yet Gale suddenly grabs his waist and carries him with great ease back into the room. S

Sia took her time admiring Julian. His black hair was still wet from his shower, and his bare arms showed powerful muscles.He was wearing a black shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark blue jeans with white and blue sneakers. Blue would’ve matched his eyes better, Sia thought to herself before she remembered that he was her new bodyguard, not her client.

I smirk at the thought, for it's very pathetic. He takes off my last shoe, gently, and slowly he rises up. His large and pleasant frame hovers beside my bed, and as always he doesn't utter a syllable as he makes sure everything around me is in order. That's my bodyguard. The windows seem well shut, the AC is running to my liking, and other security details he affirms; the ones only he understands. I just watch him as he does it all. But fuck, I need to get out of this dress—it's too tight.