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The Bodyguard I Hired Is My Billionaire Husband

The Bodyguard I Hired Is My Billionaire Husband

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Chapter 1 1

Word Count: 1150    |    Released on: 06/02/2026

ehind her, muting the orchestra's swell to a dull

that had clawed its way up her throat the moment she saw her stepmother's h

u

or, the other she gripped in her hand like a pathetic, improvised weapon. The cold stone bit

Clem

stine white walls. Heavy footsteps pounded beh

he button twice before finally jamming it down. The brass doors groaned, taking an eterni

re. Anywhere bu

just as a black suit

for air, her chest heaving beneath the cheap, scratchy fabric of the gown Brenda had forced

r dinged. T

r glow. At the end of the hall, a single mahogany door stood formidably shut. Her hope plummeted. Locked. Of course, it was locked. But then she saw it-a roo

signaling its descent-or return. She bolted for the door, slipped inside just

bsolute, pi

f expensive cedar, rain, and the sharp, me

er heart hammering against her ribs like a

the silence. A low, r

turned to slush in her

sent

he room. It was deep, baritone, an

m the darker shadows of a massive sectional sofa. The move

t a hand, large and searingly

hair across her face. Her back hit the wall, not

ers. Hard. Unyielding. A

the man snarled, his voice

speak. The terror was a ph

he floor-to-ceiling windows. A flash of lightnin

s pulled back in a grimace of pain. A hand gripp

pain. Se

word scraping her throat. "I

He leaned in, inhaling deeply at the curve of her neck. He pa

ething confused. Freesia? The flower? Why would he say that? The scent of her cheap perfume wa

! Open t

red the moment. Fists pounded agains

way from the noise and-insanely-into th

humb digging into her hip bone. It wasn't a caress; it was a claim. Fo

her voice barely audible.

l. The pounding o

groaned, a guttural sound of suffering, and his g

sped. "Get out b

fumbled with the lock, threw the door open, and

, taking them two at a time, ignoring the pain in

the lobby, her

ght into a wal

steadying her, holding her in place.

er, his face a mask of disappointment. Besid

Clay asked. His voice wa

sped. "I can't... I c

t and pulled out a folded document

nymore," he said. "The t

e words swam before her eyes, but o

ckb

turning to walk away. "You'r

knees g

The man the tabloids said had a face so disfigured he wo

elevators. The man in the d

ell only to walk into

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