• dedicated to cosmologie writing such a beautiful book and for the fantastic covers that you made for this story •

[ 11 ]

Harvey Black was staring at me stonily. "What happened that day?"

I shuffled on my feet uncomfortably, dreading this moment ever since I heard that he landed on New York last week. Of course he would want the full report of the attack at Hodge Lodge. "We're still working on identifying the attackers but a group of them attacked the café Eth-Mr Black and I were at and started shooting."

"How did those attackers even get near the café to do anything? Shouldn't you have secured the place beforehand?"

My cheeks flushed deep red with shame. "I'm sorry, Mr Black. It was negligence on my part."

His brows rose at my quick admittance. I guess he was expecting me to defend myself and spin the situation in a way that I was completely blameless. "Well, Miss Otterson, this changes things. If this happened because of you, then I'm afraid I'll have to let you go."

My mouth dropped open in shock. "Wait, what?"

"I don't play around with my son's life. And I don't want the people who are protecting him to either. This is a matter of life and death," he said sternly, accusation underlining his tone.

I searched my mind desperately for something that will change his mind. "Sir, I understand your concerns, and I apologise for my negligence. But you have my word that this will not happen again."

"You can't guarantee that."

"Yes I can," I said in a voice that I hoped sounded strong and steady. "You have my word. And if I fail once more, I'll leave myself. You don't even have to say a word."

Those sharp eyes swept up and down my entire body as he scrutinised me and I forced myself to continue standing still. Cowering or showing any signs of weakness right now wouldn't help.

"Jade," he started. "I like you. I really do. But I don't play with my son's life, and my wife would-"

A new voice entered the conversation. "Your wife would what?"

Both of us turned to see a beautiful woman clad in black striding towards us. Her perfume hit me instantly and overwhelmed my nostrils. It smelled like flowers, but it did little to soften the presence of Miranda Black.

Dressed in a tight black dress and black boots, Miranda was definitely dressed to impress. There was a certain aura about her and I found my gaze following her every moment.

She walked up to where Harvey Black was and he immediately stood when she went near. Pulling at his tie, Miranda kissed his cheeks lightly and I sent a prayer of thanks that they weren't making out in front of me.

Soft, hushed whispers were exchanged between the two and I found myself straining to hear what was said. But before I could decipher anything, Miranda swept her locks of blonde hair to the side and turned to face me.

Her eyes were what caught my attention. They were grey. Not a dull, unremarkable grey like that of concrete or stone. They were the grey of the last ashes on a fire, tossed up on the breeze; the grey of a pigeon's wing, soft as down; the grey of the ocean an instant before dawn's first rays strike the water. Like the storm in her eyes, I could already tell Miranda Black was no trophy wife.

"Hi, I'm Miranda," she greeted me with a smile so sharp it rivalled butchers' knives.

I had to force my lips to tilt upwards in a semblance of a smile. "Jade Otterson, your son's bodyguard."

Those eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah, the new bodyguard. How are you adapting to this case?"

Her voice was rich and sultry, almost like she was trying to seduce you with each word she spoke. Hell, she was making me question my sexuality.

"I'm doing alright, thank you," I answered, trying to remain professional. I took it that she wasn't aware of the incident at the café and the uncomfortable shuffling of Harvey Black told me that he hadn't told her about it yet.

It was then that Miranda sensed the tense atmosphere. "Was I interrupting something?" Her eyes darted between husband and I, bright and sharp.

Harvey Black coughed hesitantly. "About that, darling," he started. "There was a tiny incident just a while back ago."

"An incident?" she repeated, her voice laced with something I couldn't identify. Anger? Impatience?

"There was an attempt on Ethan's life," Mr Black told his wife.

Her gaze narrowed at me. "And how did this, incident, happen?"

While a smile was plastered on her face, I could hear the hostility and accusation in her tone. "It was negligance on my part, Mrs Black," I repeated, "and I apologise. It will never happen again."

"Damn right it will never happen again," she snapped, her mood taking an sudden 180 degrees turn. Even Harvey Black seemed surprised at her outburst.

Realising that the both of us were staring at her warily, she smiled and softened her stance abruptly. "I'm sorry, I'm just concerned about my son's safety. You know that I take it very seriously, darling," she said, addressing Mr Black at the end.

"Yes, you do," he agreed. Then, he turned to me. "My wife plays an active role in ensuring Ethan's safety. I'm sure you are aware that she handpicked every member in the team except for Trevor and now, you."

"Me?" So if she didn't pick me, who did?

"Yes, you," Miranda cut in, her gaze sharp on mine. "My husband chose you specifically on the recommendation of James Clarke. I do hope he made the right decision."

That was a threat. I interacted enough with people like her to know what a threat sounded like. It was never accompanied with a knife or a gun. No, no. It was always served with a sickly sweet smile and a friendly touch on the shoulder.

My stomach flipped. "He did," I said, trying to sound confident.

"Of course," she allowed, the smile still on her face. "I trust Clarke's judgement, and I trust my husband. I'll give you one more chance, what do you say, dear?" Miranda turned her gaze to her husband.

His mouth curved at her attention. "Yes, I was about to give her a second chance anyway before you came in."

Liar, I thought. He was about to say no because of his wife. At least, that was what I got from him before Miranda joined the conversation.

"Fantastic." She looked me in the eye and I saw the warning in those grey swirls. "One more chance to show your potential, Otterson. Don't make me regret it." Message received loud and clear, ma'am.

"Of course, Mrs Black. Thank you." I turned to leave and was just about to step out of the suffocating office when suddenly, she spoke again.

"Before you go, Miss Otterson, I'd like to remind you of a few things."

I pivoted to face her. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I don't mean to sound harsh or condescending," she started with a hesitant smile, "but I do hope that you have the sense to remember your job."

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, I've heard some things from Ethan, about the best waffles in the world, and I'm a little worried about boundaries, you get me?" Her words were kind but the underlying message cut through me like a hot blade.

She was engaging in powerplay, that razor sharp smile told me that much. Reminding me of my position. That I'd better stick to my job description and nothing more.

I lowered my head. "Of course, Mrs Black. I apologise if I have overstepped any boundaries, it was not my intention to do so."

"Oh, no, don't apologise, dear. I'm just hoping prevent any misunderstandings. I was a young woman like you before. I know how silly and romantic we get," she said, winking conspiratorially at me.

My face felt wooden and my laugh sounded hollow even to my ears. "You have nothing to worry about, Mrs Black."

Then, I left and shut the door, finally escaping the oppressive room that was so thick with tension I struggled to breathe. Sucking in a welcome breath of fresh air, I found myself sagging against the door, mentally exhausted from dealing with Miranda Black.

Something told me there was more to her than meets the eye.

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"Hey Otter," Ethan called when I entered his apartment.

I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, so I sent a nod in his direction and continued walking to the kitchen.

"Hey, you okay?" Ethan's voice trailed into the kitchen as he neared me.

"I'm fine," I snapped at him as I jerked out the piece of chocolate that was lodged between bottles in the fridge. "This chocolate just wouldn't move!"

He gently moved my hand away and plucked out the chocolate easily from between the bottles. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

My head swiped to the side, refusing to let him see the expression on my face as I answered him. "Yes. Just wanted to get the chocolate."

"Right." I couldn't see his face but his voice told me he definitely didn't believe me.

Awkward silence enveloped us and the only sounds that was made was the sound of me eating the chocolate.

Suddenly, Ethan jerked up at looked me straight in the eye. "Was it my father?"

I could see the anger brimming in those emerald swirls. "What?"

"My father. Did you talk to him? Is the the reason why you're like this now?"

"No," I said immediately. "Well, I mean, not entirely at least."

"I knew it. That asshole," Ethan seethed. He pushed himself off the counter and started to walk out of the kitchen. "I'm going to fucking-"

The realisation that he wasn going to find his father jolted me. "Ethan, stop!" I cut in frantically, pulling him back. "What are you doing?"

He stilled immediately when I went to pull him, shocking me. Was I that strong?

But my fingers started to get tingly and I knew exactly why Ethan was standing still. My hands were clutching onto his arm tightly, and my skin burned where it touched his.

Releasing him immediately as if he was hot coal, I backed away from him, wanting to put more distance between us. "Uh, I mean, your dad won't like me tattling to you. And it wasn't completely his fault anyway."

A slow smile made its way to Ethan's lips. He held out his arm towards me. "C'mon, you can drag me anywhere you like whenever you want."

I felt my cheeks heat up and I backed away further. "It was accidental. Sorry."

He continued moving towards me, holding his arm out. "Don't be shy, Otter. You weren't two minutes ago."

We were playing a game of cat and mouse in the kitchen, and for once, I understood how it felt like being the mouse. Skirting away from him, I huffed out, "Can you be serious for once?"

Ethan laughed, the sound making my heart skip a beat. Maybe because it was too obnoxious, I told myself.

"Alright," he chuckled. "Serious. I'm serious."

I was still panting as I leaned against the counter. Why? It wasn't like I was really running away from him.

"Who was it then?" he asked suddenly.

"Who was what?"

"You said my father wasn't the one completely at fault. So who else was it?"

"Oh." Telling him that it was Miranda was at the tip of my tongue, but suddenly, Trevor's words floated to me. He warned me against speaking about his birth mother and my curiosity was ignited. "It was your mother," I said carefully.

Ethan's eyes narrowed at me. "Miranda?"

"Who else?" I baited.

Ethan blinked at me blankly and the whole atmopshere changed. "Right. Uh, I'll speak to my mother. Don't worry about her. She's a lovely person once you get to know her," he said.

Miranda? Lovely?

I forced my lips to curve upwards. "Right. Lovely. Right."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Trust me. She saved me when she married my father. I wouldn't have been here today if it wasn't for her."

Bingo. "Oh?"

His eyes looked dreamy, as if he was transported back into the past. "She was so kind and loving, so compassionate. I never knew mothers could be like that. It was so different from-" Ethan cut himself off abruptly, a horrified expression on his face. "Uh," he coughed. "I-uh, I gotta go."

The horrified expression was gone as he carefully concealed it behind a small smile. I wanted to know more, the tidbits of information that he threw at me only serving to heat up my curiosity.

It was so different from Ivanka. His birth mother. My brows rose at this revelation. So, Ivanka wasn't that much of an angel the world thought she was, was she?

"Alright," I conceded, thinking he'd shared enough today. I didn't want to push him too hard too fast. "Catch you later. Remember to bring Riley with you."

It was Riley's shift now, which meant hours of blessed alone time for me.

"Right. Yes. Catch you later," Ethan said stiffly, still not getting over what he slipped out to me.

I knew the frightening feeling of fear when you realised you told a person too much. I knew it all too well. And I understood Ethan's horror when he found out what he did. I could almost feel the stomach-flipping, gut-wrenching anxiety he felt at that time.

Maybe Ethan and I weren't all that different, after all. We all have secrets to hide, don't we?

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oh jesus christ this chapter was so bad im sorry im trying to rush it out before going for classes later so i didnt have much time to proofread or see if this even makes sense. i hope it does or i'll have to rewrite it when i get home later. anyway, please vote and comment if you've read this far, it'll really mean the world to me <3

much love,
fleur xoxo