The chandelier above her parents' dining table dripped light like melted gold.
But Anya Rael didn't notice.
She had bigger things to think about.
"Anya, this is the third proposal we've arranged. Your mother's friend insists you meet their son," her father said, trying to sound calm.
Her mother added, "He's a good boy. Upper-class family, promising career. We only want what's best for you."
Anya's lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "When I was fat and poor," she said evenly, "you ignored me. You mocked me. You rejected me and hid me away as if I were nothing. And now that I'm rich, successful, attractive—now suddenly everyone wants me? That's not love. That's greed. Status. Appearance."
Her parents blinked. Their carefully maintained composure wavered.
"I am not a prize to be paraded around," she continued, voice cold but controlled. "I built my life myself. I don't need any of your arrangements. And your friend's son… I don't owe him anything."
Silence filled the room.
Her father finally muttered, "He's a fine young man, Anya. He—"
"I don't care," she said, standing, cutting him off. "Not interested. I've survived your neglect, and I'll survive this too."
Her parents' sighs were drowned out by the sharp ping of her phone, the screen lighting up with an encrypted notification. Aegis Zero. Internal breach alert.
Her mind barely registered her parents' protests before the alert cut through the tension like a knife. She excused herself from the table, stepping into the hall to read the message.
Incoming threat detected. Client data exposed. Possible physical compromise.
Her pulse didn't quicken. She didn't panic. She only chuckled, low and humorless.
"Well," she murmured to herself, "looks like it's finally my turn."
Two hours later, she stood in her penthouse office, and the man sent to protect her waited silently.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Black shirt tucked into tactical pants. Eyes that looked like they'd seen war — and maybe caused it.
"Kian," he said simply, his voice deep enough to vibrate in her chest.
"I'll be your bodyguard."
Anya arched a brow. "Bodyguard?" she echoed, her lips twisting into a smirk. "What exactly do you think you'll be guarding, Mr. Kian?"
His eyes flicked over her once. Not with lust. Not with judgment. Just cold calculation.
"Everything," he said.
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