Control Yourself, Mr. Bodyguard: Chapters 1–5

|| LEAH’S POV ||

“Let’s give it up for Dash Remington and Ivy Sinclair on their engagement—the perfect match between two powerful families…”

The voice from the hospital room TV cut through the silence like a knife, booming in my ears.

I blinked, groggy and disoriented, slowly turning my eyes toward the screen—only to feel my breath catch in my throat.

There he was. Dash Remington.

I watched the man I knew so well, smiling effortlessly at the cameras, striking that perfect pose like it cost him nothing.

The man I’d loved for most of my life.

The man my grandfather had promised to me when I was just a little girl.

And now... he was standing beside another woman.

Ivy. My stepsister.

Wearing the same ring he once used to propose to me.

What the hell is going on?

I had no idea how long I had been unconscious. Thick bandages were wrapped around my head, and my temples throbbed with pain.

I called Dash over and over, frantically, but no one ever picked up.

Panic spread through my chest like wildfire, and I could barely breathe.

Without thinking, I yanked out the IV from my hand and stumbled out of the hospital room, rushing toward their engagement venue.

Every pair of eyes froze the moment I appeared.

The cameras, which had been focused on the happy couple, instantly turned to me.

A woman in a hospital gown, pale-faced and dazed, had barged into what was supposed to be a glamorous and polished engagement ceremony.

—A heartbroken woman who looked completely out of her mind.

“Baby…”

That deep, familiar voice made me look up—and to my shock, Dash Remington was standing right in front of me.

I stared at him, my voice trembling as I fought to keep my emotions in check.

“Why?”

“You know I only did this because of business arrangements,” he said after a brief hesitation.

“My parents... they would never approve of our marriage because of your situation.”

All the memories flashed through my mind like a slideshow.

That day, Dash had brought his parents to my house to discuss the details of our engagement.

It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.

But instead, it became the beginning of a nightmare.

I was dressed in a carefully selected gown, my makeup flawlessly done. Sitting beside my father, I offered Mr. and Mrs. Remington a warm, polite smile, doing everything I could to appear composed and graceful—desperate for their approval.

Within seconds, a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly struck my head, pounding like a hammer deep inside my skull. The room blurred and spun around me as the agony surged rapidly, threatening to overwhelm me completely.

Fear crashed over me like a tidal wave, but before I could even cry out for help, my body convulsed violently, my limbs flailing uncontrollably.

Then, a piercing scream erupted from deep within my throat. I grabbed the tablecloth with both hands and yanked it hard—the plates and glasses crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.

Shards flew everywhere, cutting Mrs. Remington. Even now, I can’t forget the look in her eyes—as if she was staring at a monster.

At that moment, I was holding a shattered glass toward Mrs.Remington, looking as if I was about to strike. Just then, my father lunged forward to restrain me and jabbed a syringe into my arm.

Before I lost consciousness, I clearly heard Dash’s father roar,

“The Remingtons would never marry their son to a woman with a mental illness!”

Yeah, I was having another episode.

That day, just like always, I obediently took the medication Clara handed me, claiming it was to keep my condition in check.

I don't understand what I did wrong - why did I break down that very day?

I’d been locked away in a hospital ever since that day. And now, after all this time, I was finally face-to-face with Dash again—

but his fiancée… wasn’t me anymore.

Tears burned in my eyes, and I fought to keep myself from falling apart. My voice came out rough and barely audible:

“This… this isn’t real, is it?”

“I know you’re upset,” Dash said softly, his eyes carrying that same familiar tenderness—the kind that once made me believe he loved me.

I just stared at him, waiting for an explanation… or at the very least, a clear answer.

"Trust me, this wasn’t my choice," he continued, his voice soft, almost pleading. "My parents wanted me to marry Ivy instead."

“So… we’re done, right?”

My voice trembled as I spoke, my nails digging deep into my palms—

but I couldn’t feel a thing.

Dash stepped forward, reaching out like he used to, as if to pull me into one of his familiar embraces. His voice was gentle, his gaze achingly familiar—like nothing had changed between us.

But instinctively, I took a step back, pulling away from him.

A flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed my elbow and yanked me toward him.

“Baby,” he murmured against my ear, his voice low and meant for me alone.

“This is only temporary. I have to marry Ivy to secure the family inheritance. Once I inherit everything, no one can keep us apart. It’s always been you—I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“And… no matter who I marry, baby, we can still be together. Just… secretly.”

Secretly?

“What… what did you just say?” I could hardly believe my ears.

He wanted to marry my step-sister… and keep me as his dirty little mistress?

I stood frozen, stunned as if my chest had been crushed by a hammer. A fierce wave of disgust surged from deep inside me.

That’s when I finally understood—I never really knew this man at all.

By now, the wedding photographers had swarmed us like vultures, snapping relentlessly. The flashes exploded around us like gunfire, instantly making us the center of attention.

I was terrified of the crowd closing in, so I whispered harshly at Dash to let me go. Clenching my teeth, I tried to wrench my hand free from his iron grip, but he held on tight, refusing to budge.

“What’s going on here?”

Suddenly, Dash’s father, Mr. Remington, barked angrily from behind him. Startled, Dash finally released my wrist.

I stumbled, nearly losing my balance, but someone caught me just in time.

I glanced back to see my stepmother, Clara, standing there with her usual soft smile.

“Aunt Clara…” I tried to say something, but the thought that she’d agreed to let her own daughter take my place as Dash’s fiancée stopped me cold.

I had always treated her like my own mother. After my parents’ divorce, everyone—including my father—stopped caring about me. Only she was there, offering comfort when I was down, and always siding with me whenever Ivy and I clashed.

But this time, she stayed silent. Like everyone else, she chose to keep the truth from me, watching helplessly as I lost the person I loved.

She noticed my silence but said nothing, gently patting my hand before turning to Dash.

“Dash, Ivy’s looking for you. The media is asking for more photos,” Clara said, her tone syrupy as ever.

Dash didn’t reply, but he finally turned on his heel and walked toward the stage—where Ivy stood, smiling, waiting for her perfect photo.

After Dash left, Clara stepped closer and handed me a glass of juice.

“Leah, dear,” she said gently, “I know this is painful. I didn’t mean to keep this from you… it’s just that lately, you’ve been so fragile, I was scared you’d do something to hurt yourself.”

I took a deep breath, fighting to stay calm.

“But why Ivy?” I finally asked, needing an answer.

“We have no choice. Ivy had to do this—for the family. She was heartbroken when we asked her to sacrifice her own happiness and marry Dash Remington just to fulfill the arrangement.”

I stared at Clara in disbelief.

Heartbroken?

Sacrifice?

If that was heartbreak, Ivy was hiding it behind the smile of a girl living her dream.

She clung to Dash like he was her prize, her eyes glued to his face, full of admiration and triumph. Not sadness. Not regret.

“It’s all for show—just for the world, you know,” Clara said smoothly, noticing I watching Ivy with a confused expression.

“Dash is the American Don’s nephew. No one in the States would dare offend the Remingtons without signing their own death warrant. You know that, right?”

Of course, I had heard the whispers—how Dash’s family had deep ties to the mafia. His uncle was the American Don, and their connection was far from distant.

But none of this matters to me anymore.

A dizzy spell washed over me, like my mind was on fire.

Clara quickly steadied me and led me to a quiet corner to rest. Then she left to attend to the guests.

I leaned back, took a few sips of juice, but soon my chest tightened and my head spun, as if the whole world was spinning around me.

I braced myself on the chair, fighting to stand.

Before I could even cry out, darkness swallowed me. I fell unconscious on the floor.

|| LEAH’S POV ||

" Where... where are you taking me?"

I felt someone supporting me as the world spun wildly around me. After I fainted, I vaguely heard my stepmother Clara call over a waiter to handle me.

The waiter paid no attention to my words. He was dragging me with him, my legs stumbling all the way. Just then a man appeared in the lobby, looking anxious and worried. His eyes fell on mine and lit up as if he had found his way out. Then he whispered something to the waiter that I couldn't hear. My head was feeling too heavy to concentrate on anything.

I didn't know what happened to them. The waiter soon dragged me in front of the room hurriedly and pushed me inside. The world around me was still spinning and I couldn't see anything clear in that room. My body was still burning up like fire.

All of a sudden, I felt a harsh pull in my body. I fell over a body and soon afterwards, he was all over me. Hot possessive kisses showered on my whole body as I cried in protest. I couldn't even see the man's face but his muscular body gave off a dangerous aura that made my heart racing in fear.

I tried to push him off with all my strength. I failed as his husky, dominating voice left me frozen,

" Don't move!"

I blinked through my half-open eyes. In the dim light, his features felt like a magnetic, sharp sculpture.

He breathed seductively, nudging his lips against my neck,

" Be a good girl."

I muttered nervously, losing all hope to escape this man,

" I... Please... please be gentle."

His dark eyes met mine with surprise. His movements stopped for a while. But afterward, he bent down and captured my lips in a hot kiss. I writhed and whimpered against him as he climbed down between my legs, all the while leaving wet kisses on my body. He stopped right between my legs and breathed over me. The look of hunger in his eyes made me wet again.

The moment his lips came between my legs, I let out a sharp cry of pleasure. His skilled mouth works magically on my pussy as he sucked and nipped it all over. I threw my head back in pleasure, something so raw felt so blissful. Then something burst out.

Orgasm! My first orgasm from a man that I didn't know!

Then I felt the sharp throbbing pain between my legs as he entered slowly, tearing apart. My nails dug into his shoulder, tears pricked from the corner of my eyes. He stopped moving immediately as if he was giving me time to adjust his big length. Then he began to move slowly, the pain fading soon, replacing it with a sensual pleasure that left me wanting more.

He moved slowly for a while as if he was giving me his own sweet time to adjust. But soon he gave up when hot pleasure took over. He rode like a mad beast, leaving me with cries. The more I cried, his thrust became violent and aggressive. In that dark room, all I heard were my cries mine, his occasional pleasurable moans.

I woke up with a dull ache all over my body.

The last thing that I remembered was hitting the floor. My stepmother had the waiter carry me to a room she’d booked in advance so I could rest. But all my thoughts froze when I spotted a very attractive man lying next to me, his soft snoring.

Naked!

Just like me!

The blood on the sheet confirmed my worst fear

What the hell is going on?!

Wasn't this room booked by Clara in advance?

Then who the hell is the man?

Panic rose in my heart. Before I could process anything, my phone began to ring all of a sudden. It was a call from my best friend, Elise. She must have called after watching the news of the engagement between Dash and Ivy.

I grabbed the phone quickly and stepped outside to hear her chatter. I answered her call but didn't know what to say. She blurted out without hearing my words,

" You don't have to say anything. Listen to me, buddy. I am hiring a male escort for you today. You must forget that scumbag."

Male Escort?

My heart skipped a beat as a memory flashed back—waiters whispering about some male escort invited to the party.

" What.. what does a male escort look like?" I blurted out in panic, startling her.

Elise paused for a second before she burst into laughter. On a serious note, she began to describe with a grin,

" Of course! He must be tall, handsome, and have an eight-pack body. A face so good looking that it makes your heart race."

The more I listened, the more my eyes grew wide in shock.

Her description matched the man who was sleeping next to me!

So… the room the waiter took me to last night wasn’t the one Clara had reserved at all—

it was the male escort’s room?!

Oh my god! Did I give my virginity to a gigolo?

If my father ever found out… he’d kill me.

My heart raced anxiously. The moment I stepped out of bed, I winced in pain which made me almost cry. I slammed a hand over my lips to shut my cries.

What the hell did this man put inside me?

I dressed in silence and was ready to leave. Then I realized that if he was the male escort, did I have to pay?

I bit my lips hard in confusion. After a moment of hesitation, I took out two hundred dollars from my clutch and placed it down on the table. My eyes flickered on his chiseled chest. I believed that his beauty wasn't worth two hundred dollars only. After releasing a deep breath, I placed another one hundred dollars on the table. Then I remembered the burning ache between my legs. Instead of feeling pity, I felt irritation and annoyance all over him.

Tiptoeing, I left the room without waking up my handsome escort.

The moment I stepped outside, I called a taxi. All through my walking, I kept my head and face down, avoiding any cameras. I didn't want to give my stepsister any more new drama to make fun of me.

When I walked through the door, the quiet clatter of dishes came from the dining room.

My dad, stepmother, and step-sister Ivy were sitting around the breakfast table, sunlight streaming in, the picture of a perfect, happy family—

and I was the unwelcome intruder.

When their gazes fell on my disheveled appearance, the air instantly froze.

Their expressions shifted.

“Leah, where were you last night? We were all so worried,” My step-mother said as she was the first to rise and approach her.

“I told you to rest in the hotel room, but then you just disappeared.” Before I even had the chance to speak, Clara added.

Beneath Clara's concerned tone lay a hint of accusation.

I opened my mouth, wanting to explain and defend myself, but my mind was in a complete mess. Everything that happened last night was still a blur. I can hardly remember anything.

“Oh my God… what’s wrong with your neck?”

Then, like she suddenly caught on, her hands flew to her mouth, flashing a look of shock mixed with guilt.

My heart dropped—felt like I’d been slapped with a bucket of cold water.

An overwhelming rush of anxiety, shame, and fear crashed over me, washing away all sense of reason.

I instinctively pulled my hair forward, trying to hide my neck.

But it was already too late.

I totally forgot. Forgot that those hickeys were still on my body—the deep purple, countless marks left by the male escort last night.

“Oh my god, Leah… is that a hickey?” Ivy exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear.

She pointed toward my neck, and then gasped theatrically.

“There are more than one—on your neck and your shoulder!”

Her eyes showed no shock—just cold smugness.

The air froze.

Then the door swung open.

The sharp click of shoes echoed on the marble.

Dash stepped inside.

His intense gaze was locked on to me.

More specifically—on the hickeys on my neck, standing out against my pale skin like purplish flowers.

His jaw clenched, anger blazing in his eyes as he stepped closer to me.

“What did you do last night, Leah?” he demanded. “Did you sleep with someone? Did you lose your virginity?”

Oh, he must have heard Ivy.

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm so tight, pain flaring through me.

I gritted my teeth and pulled free with all my strength.

“None of your business, brother-in-law,” I spat, glaring at him with blazing anger.

He tensed, his face turning terrifying in an instant.

Then he slammed me against the wall, choking me with one hand.

“Who took your purity?!”

|| LEAH’S POV ||

The air felt thinner with every breath, my chest tightening like it was being squeezed.

I was suffocating—my face flushed, and darkness crept at the edges of my vision.

Just as I was about to black out, Ivy slipped in beside me.

She wrapped her arm around Dash’s and whispered sweetly, like honey dripping from her voice, “Darling, I’ve told you before… you’ve never really known Leah. She’s not the ‘good girl’ you think she is.”

Dash’s glare on me hardened with fury as his grip around my neck tightened, knuckles whitening with each provoking remark from Ivy.

“She’s always been like this—sneaking out for her little escapades, and returning home in the morning.…” Ivy’s voice sharpened, cutting through the air like venom. “Her purity was already gone—”

“Shut up!”

Dash suddenly roared, shaking off Ivy’s hand from his arm and, at the same moment, releasing his grip on my neck.

Ivy stumbled, nearly falling, but Clara was quick to catch her.

I sank to the floor, gasping for air like I’d been dragged back from the edge of death.

I didn’t care how many venomous words Ivy spat out—she could slander me all she wanted.

Ever since Clara brought her into my family, she’d been trying to take everything that should have been mine.

Dash’s gaze remained cold and unyielding as he locked eyes with Ivy. His voice was laced with anger and a clear warning:

“What happens between Leah and me is none of your business. Don’t forget—if I want, I can call off our engagement and end the partnership between our families at any time.”

Smack—!

Out of nowhere, a hard slap landed across my cheek, sharp and loud.

My head jerked to the side, my cheek burning. I stood there stunned, ears ringing, unable to even react.

When I finally looked up, tears were streaming down my face.

It was my father standing in front of me.

His face was flushed, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, eyes filled with a fierce mix of anger and disappointment I’d never seen before.

“You unfilial daughter! How dare you disgrace this family’s name like this?”

He raised his hand again.

But Dash grabbed his wrist, stopping him mid-air.

“Richard! Don’t you dare touch her!” he snapped and father instantly took a step back in fear.

Just then, Clara stepped forward and pulled my father back.“Sweetheart, did you forget? Yesterday was Leah’s 21st birthday. She’s an adult now—so what if she let loose a little? You can’t sentence her to death over a couple of love bites, can you?”

Father’s expression changed, and he clearly froze for a moment, but his lips stayed pressed in a tight line—the anger still burning in his eyes.

Clara reached down and helped me to my feet. But I stumbled, my body still weak and aching.

Dash stood frozen, his face as cold as ice, his eyes locked on me with a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

He stepped closer, his voice low but sharp as a blade:

"Leah Sinclair, I’m warning you—don’t ever pull a stunt like this again."

"Or else… or I swear you won’t like the consequences."

With that, he shot a chilling glance at everyone around us, then left angrily.

I stood frozen, stunned—my ears ringing.

Who was he to tell me what to do or not to do?

Suddenly, a harsh grip clamped around my wrist, making me spin around—straight into my father's furious eyes.

"Listen, you filthy girl. From now on, you’re not stepping outside."

Before I could even process his words, he yanked me toward the stairs. I stumbled, gasping at the pain shooting up my arm, but he didn’t slow down—completely unmoved by my discomfort.

I shouted with all my strength, crying in pain,

" NOOO! You can't do this to me. You can't...I am an adult. Father!! "

He shoved me into the room and slammed the door shut before me. My cries were muffled by the thick wooden door.

I sank to the floor, sobbing.“Why did You give me this mental sickness, God? How long do I have to bear this? When will it end? Why me, God? Why me? I cried out, desperate for an answer. But God, too, seemed heartless—silent, unmoved, deaf to my pleading.

*

|| CLARA ’S POV ||

“Did you hear what that little brat just said? She’s becoming rebellious,” I whispered, staring at my husband—my stupid, spineless husband. God, he really was an idiot… but I loved him for it. After all, he listened to everything I told him, like a well-trained dog.

“You’re right, darling,” Richard muttered through clenched teeth, his face twisted in disgust—just the way I wanted him to feel about his useless daughter.

“I’ll teach her a lesson she’ll never forget for daring to defy me.”

I sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to my chest, pretending to hesitate.

“But honey, she’s twenty-one now. What if she takes everything from us—and from Ivy?” I whispered, voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “I don’t want this… but she—she has to die. For Ivy’s happiness.”

I looked at him with big, watery eyes, playing my part flawlessly.

“Our daughter deserves peace. We have no choice.”

My voice was soft, almost broken. I made sure to wear that perfect innocent expression—wide-eyed, lips quivering, like I was heartbroken by the very idea.

But inside?

Inside, I was grinning.

I’d been waiting for this moment for years. That pathetic girl, Leah, had no idea she’d already walked into every trap I’d laid out for her.

Just like I turned Dash against her.

Well, almost.

That boy was dumber than I thought—still trying to protect her, even after she lost her virginity. As if anyone would still want her now.

Poor Leah. She didn’t know that the pills she took during her “episode” weren’t for her condition. No. I made sure those pills would twist her emotions, make her unstable, reckless. Just enough to sabotage everything—including her engagement with Dash.

And last night?

It was me. I drugged her juice. I took her to that hotel suite—the one meant for an old man who was more than happy to… ruin her. A scandal that would stain her for life.

Still, one thing was clear now. As long as Leah was alive, Ivy would never be safe. Her happiness, her future with Dash—it would always be threatened by that girl's existence.

Leah had to die. For good this time.

If I was ever going to get what had always belonged to me, she couldn’t be in the way.

But the problem was...

She was the key to everything.

Richard’s father adored that girl more than his own son. He made sure Leah would inherit everything on her twenty-first birthday—the entire Sinclair empire, down to the last damn coin.

That’s why Richard had arranged for the old man’s “accident.” But the will had already been signed. Too late to undo it.

And Leah?

She still didn’t know. She was clueless. So easy to manipulate.

If she died before turning twenty-one, everything would go to a charitable trust. Not us. Not Ivy.

That’s why we’d kept her close. Drugged her just enough to keep her compliant. No school, no friends, no real contact with the world. No future. Just us—me and Richard, the only voices she heard.

But now?

Now, she had turned twenty-one.

Which meant… she could die.

“You’re right,” Richard murmured, his voice dark and low. “She’s twenty-one now. It’s time for her to die.”

A wicked smirk tugged at my lips as I watched him pull out his phone.

Finally.

|| LEAH’S POV ||

It had been five days since they locked me in that room. Five days of silence, of no one checking in—not even a knock at the door.

Until today.

A maid arrived, unlocked the door, and told me to get ready—we were all expected to attend a party hosted by my biological mother, Lily, and her wealthy husband, Walter Carrington, who also had business ties with my father, Richard.

Walter Carrington. A billionaire businessman—and my father's business partner.

Now, I stood in the far corner of the grand ballroom, hidden behind a cluster of golden pillars, watching my so-called mother and her perfect son laugh with their new family like I’d never existed.

My mind drifted back fifteen years. I could still see it clearly—the day they divorced.

It was raining. Pouring, actually. I was just six years old, clinging to my mother’s coat, begging her to take me with her. But she didn’t even look back.

She left with twenty million dollars and full custody of her precious twelve-year-old son, Henry.

She chose him.

Ever since that day, Dad became a different man.

He grew to resent me, like I was some kind of curse.

Whenever I broke down or lost control, he’d shove me into the basement, shutting me off from everyone.

Just like this time—locked up and cut off. He’d always mutter to himself, “Just wait until she turns 21…”

Maybe, in his mind, once I hit 21, he could marry me off whoever he wanted and finally erase me from his life.

That thought made my chest tighten. When no one was looking, I slipped out of the ballroom to get some fresh air.

As I made my way down the hall, a strong hand suddenly grabbed me and yanked me into a dimly lit room.

My heart pounded with fear. I tried to scream, but a large hand clamped over my mouth. Panic surged through me as my frantic eyes lifted—only to meet a pair of familiar blue eyes and a handsome, smiling face.

Dash?!

“God, baby... you have no idea how much I missed you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he buried his face into the curve of my neck.

I jerked in panic, my body stiffening beneath him. I struggled to push him away, my wrists pinned, the scent of his cologne turning my stomach.

“What are you doing? You’re my brother-in-law!” I hissed, the moment his hand moved from my mouth.

His eyes, dark and ravenous, roamed my face with an unhinged hunger. A cruel smirk tugged at his lips.

“Keep calling me that,” he growled. “It only makes me want to fuck you harder. Want to make you scream my name.”

Before I could react, he shoved my back onto the bed. My breath caught in throat as I hit the mattress, his weight overpowering.

My eyes widened and heart thudding in terror. “No… no! You can’t do this. Please...”

He grunted, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. His other hand slid beneath the hem of my dress, pulling it upward to reveal my thighs.

“You should’ve thought twice before provoking me, Leah,” he growled, frustration seething through clenched teeth. “Why’d you run off to some old man, huh? When I’m the one who could’ve satisfied you?”

His face twisted into something monstrous.

“I’m not going to make love to you, sweetheart,” he hissed. “I’m going to fuck you—hard, rough, and punishing. For giving another man what was always mine.”

Panic surged through me like a bolt of lightning. My instincts kicked in — pure survival. In one desperate move, I yanked my leg back and slammed my knee into his groin with all the strength I had left.

He let out a strangled groan of agony. “Bitch!”

With a burst of strength, I shoved him off and scrambled from the bed, bolting for the door. My pulse thundered in my ears.

“Get her! Don’t let her escape!” Dash bellowed behind her.

Suddenly, men emerged from the shadows, stepping out from the corners of the hallway and they began to chase.

I didn’t look back. Just ran.

I ran for my life, my breath ragged, my heart thundering in chest. But the sound of heavy footsteps echoed close behind — they were faster, closing in quickly.

I darted into the elevator and frantically pressed the button for the lowest floor. The doors slid shut just in time. Heart pounding, I slumped against the cold metal wall, struggling to catch my breath.

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, I stepped out into near-total darkness.

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath.

It was the parking lot and was nearly empty, dimly lit by flickering overhead lights. Not a single soul in sight.

And then — footsteps.

I spotted them coming out from another exit, heading straight toward me—

and that’s when it hit me: I’d walked right into a dead end. There was no way out.

“Come with us,” one of them ordered, his tone sharp and threatening.

I shook my head violently, my entire body trembling. My heart raced with fear, but my mind — my spirit — refused to surrender.

I wouldn’t go back to that monster.

I couldn’t believe I ever loved him.

No—he wasn’t the man I loved.

Dash was someone else now.

They moved toward me. I instinctively backed away — step by step — until my spine collided with something hard. Solid.

My breath caught in throat. I turned my head — and froze at the sight before me.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood behind me, built like a statue carved from stone.

Under the dim lights, I slowly lifted my head—only to meet his deep, shadowed eyes.

I could barely believe what I was seeing. Gasping for breath, I whispered in shock.

“It’s you!”

That male escort! What was he doing here?

" Step aside, boy. Hand over the girl to us."

A low-threatening voice came from my back. I whipped my head around to see the man. He was determined to kill me. Without thinking twice, I gripped the gigolo's hand, trembling in fear.

He frowned but his dark,cold eyes flickered with confusion. I didn't care about his thoughts as long as I was saved.

“Please... Help me, please...”

|| STEFANO’S POV ||

The lights in the underground parking lot were too dim, making me narrow my eyes as I stared at the panicked little woman in front of me, a frustrated frown pulling at my brow as I tried to remember if I’d seen her before.

Because her touch…

It was different. It did something to me that no one—and nothing—ever had.

Made my long-dead cock finally stir—

No, not just stir.

Fully. Completely. Steel-hard.

Who the fuck was she?!

I glanced casually at the men standing behind her.

There was nothing unusual about a group of dangerous-looking men chasing a panicked woman in the dead of night.

And I didn’t show up tonight to play savior to some scared woman—I was here because we got a lead that the traitor leaking our secret locations in America was at this hotel. No distractions were affordable.

And definitely not this tempting one.

I was just about to turn and leave when something one of the guys said caught my attention—

“If you want to live… run,” he growled. “We’re from the Devil Gang. Nobody messes with Mr. Devil.”

The Devil Gang?

I raised an eyebrow, suddenly amused. Crossing my arms, I looked them over with interest.

“You're Mr. Devil’s men?” I asked, my voice laced with a strange mix of amusement and cold disappointment.

I knew every single member of the Devil’s Gang—

because I was none other than the notorious Mr. Devil in the underworld.

Mr. Devil was a name without a face or identity. I was the Italian Don known by my title. No one had ever seen my face, not even the gang members. I wore a devil mask always and I did it to protect my identity. To the whole world, I was Stefano Lombardi, a billionaire businessman whose life was full of dark secrets. No tabloid or magazine was allowed to take or post my pictures. Only a few who met me personally knew my face.

And these fools before me are not the Devil's Gang’s men. But they showed up at the hotel and pretended to be members of the Devil's Gang. Could there be any connection between them and that traitor?

“Yeah,” the henchman snapped. “Now hand over the girl and scram — unless you’ve got a death wish.”

“Suit yourself.” I gave the woman a cold glance, then walked past her without hesitation, curious to see what these guys were up to.

Her eyes widened in fear. She scrambled back to my side, begging desperately,

“Please… save me…”

I shrugged coldly and turned to leave without saying a word.

As they moved in to grab her, she suddenly shouted at me, "$300! I paid $300 for one night with you just two weeks ago. I’ve got money—believe me! I can give you all the money you want. How about $30,000? Just save my life!"

My body stiffened.

Now it made sense — the strange sensation I felt the moment she touched me. The effect she stirred in me… and the way it had already tented my pants.

I reached into the inside pocket of my jacket, fingers brushing over the three crumpled, hundred-bloody-dollar bills—filthy reminders of the first time I was paid for sex.

And now—she stood right in front of me.

So, she was the woman who had the bloody audacity to pay the Italian Don after sleeping with him?

Huh.

Poor little thing.

Now she better be ready for the consequences.

That night, I was in a business meeting in Los Angeles where my rival, Harry Beaumont drugged me. He really thought that he could destroy me but it was too bad for him.

Now, his whole empire was destroyed into ash, his proud family was left begging on the street. I spun around to face the fools, giving them one last warning,

But first, I needed to deal with those fucking lying cowards—

The ones who had the audacity to grab her hand right in front of me.

“Leave. Her. Alone!”

I thundered, grabbing the woman and slamming my fist into the bastard who dared to touch her.

The henchmen froze, shock scrawled all over their faces.

But then—of course—they pulled out their guns, aiming them at me and the woman.

Ah, they never learned…

Not until they were already dead.

Swiftly, I pulled the woman behind me and spoke again, my voice cold as ice.

“I’ll say it once and only once. Just get lost.”

The henchmen burst into laughter, as if I’d just cracked the world’s funniest joke.

“You’re stubborn as hell,” sneered another, stepping forward with a dagger gleaming in his hand. His sleeveless shirt exposed scarred, muscular arms — a clear badge of countless brutal fights.

My eyes narrowed with irritation. I cocked my head, lips drawn into a cold, hard line. They were wasting my time—and nothing pissed me off more than that.

As the henchman’s finger began to squeeze the trigger, my eyes scanned the surroundings sharply.

Damn it.

The girl was directly in the line of fire.

If I moved to save myself, the bullet would strike her.

Was she really that dumb — just standing there instead of running?

I scowled at the thought, but I didn’t get the luxury of choice. The gun fired.

I had only a fraction of a second — and I used it.

In a blur, I lunged at the scared girl, wrapping an arm around her waist and yanking her down with mine.

Bang!

The bullet grazed my shoulder. The pain was sharp, but I barely registered it.

Because all I could feel was her.

Her soft, trembling body pressed against mine. Her scent. Her heat. Her touch.

Those buried sensations inside me… stirred awake.

My cold, impassive eyes met her wide, frightened blue ones.

And God help me — in the middle of all this chaos — I felt hot.

Too hot.

But I didn’t have time to make sense of it.

Another bullet was already coming.

But before the henchman could pull the trigger, I drew my pistol and fired — the bullet slicing clean through the henchman’s hand.

The man screamed, stumbling back, his gun clattering to the floor as blood gushed from between his fingers.

The next shot I fired wasn’t aimed at them — it went into the air. A warning. Then, in one fluid motion, I stood and pulled her up with me. I wanted to put every bullet into their chests for daring to use my gang’s name… for enraging me with their lies.

But not now.

Committing a murder — or multiple murders — in front of a witness, her, was risky.

Then, suddenly, the henchmen panicked.

They bolted, not even daring to look back. In their panic, they abandoned their weapons and scattered like rats.

I scowled in disgust.

Cowards.

They had to be Julian’s men.

Only a coward of a boss could breed such a worthless pack.

So… the clues had been right.

The American Don was in this hotel.

That realization reignited my focus — I instinctively snapped into action, and I was already on the move, hurrying to pursue them.

But then I heard it.

A soft thud behind him.

I turned abruptly — and my cold mask cracked.

The girl was lying on the ground.

Unconscious.

“Fuck!”