"Did you hear about your father's new hire, Amy?" I heard my friend Xavier shout over the pounding music filling the room. His voice cut through the noise, grabbing my attention, and prompting me to lower the volume. As the sound decreased, the chirping of birds outside my window became irritatingly clear. I wished someone would rid me of their incessant racket. Perhaps I'd demand their removal later. Those chirping birds threatened to drill holes in my already throbbing head, a reminder of last night's wild escapades.
Now, why was I subjecting myself to such loud music, you might wonder? Well, blame it on Aunt Kathryn, or "Katie" as she preferred to be called – a title that grated on my nerves. I despised that woman. She was my father's sister, a monstrous figure with a stick-thin frame and a shrill voice. Sometimes, her mere presence made me want to throttle her with my bare hands. If the voices in my head ever got the better of me, I might just act on that impulse one day.
Incredibly, she had chosen to grace the castle with her unwelcome presence for yet another week. Always ready to meddle in everyone else's affairs, yet neglecting her own home. Occupying the room next to mine, she detested loud music – a fact I intended to exploit by blasting it relentlessly all week long, even if it meant risking my own hearing. The satisfaction of annoying her would undoubtedly make it worthwhile.
"What new hire?" I demanded of Xavier, noticing his irritating smirk. It was a familiar expression, one he wore when he knew something I didn't – a teasing smirk that never failed to annoy me. With a frustrated groan, I grabbed a nearby pillow and hurled it to the ground.
"What has my damn father done now? Who did he hire?!" I spat out angrily. It was a recurring pattern – my father's incessant attempts to control me through his hiring choices. Each time, I made life unbearable for the poor bodyguards he sent my way, ensuring they quit as quickly as they arrived. I'd repeated this process countless times, yet my father remained stubbornly persistent. When would he finally realize that I refused to be controlled?
Xavier's smirk widened, a testament to the enduring camaraderie we've shared since our school days. He's more than a friend, he's a cherished connection, a distant relative on my mother's side that deepens our bond. Despite my father's disapproval and his unfounded belief that Xavier is a corrupting influence, I remain steadfast in my loyalty. Xavier represents the epitome of true friendship, transcending mere companionship to become an integral part of my extended family.
My father's futile attempts to bar Xavier from our castle have only strengthened my resolve, leading to vehement protests until he begrudgingly relents. Though Xavier is always welcome in my presence, my father's disdain prevents him from joining us for meals or participating in castle events. Yet, I pay little heed to these restrictions. Dining with my father holds little appeal, and social gatherings arranged by him are occasions I prefer to avoid due to their stifling atmosphere and my father's relentless scrutiny.
In truth, spending time with my father is never a pleasant experience. My feelings toward him are clouded with undisguised disdain.
"He hired a new bodyguard for you," Xavier chuckled, his tone filled with amusement. My heart sank at the news. Not again! Furrowing my brow, I clenched my fists tightly. I'd made so many of my father's previous bodyguards quit that I'd hoped he'd finally learned his lesson and would stop forcing his choices on me. Yet, here we were, with history repeating itself once more. My father's relentless interference never failed to ignite my anger. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?
"And this time, your father played it very smart," Xavier continued, his expression impressed, though his words offered me little solace. "What does that mean?" I demanded through gritted teeth, already formulating plans to rid myself of this latest imposition.
"He hired Alexander Clifton," Xavier replied, his amazement apparent, though the name meant nothing to me.
I scrunched my nose in confusion. "Who?" I asked, genuinely puzzled by the unfamiliar name.
Xavier laughed, his amusement evident. "Dear God, girl. You need to get out more," he teased, shaking his head at my apparent lack of knowledge about the new addition to my father's staff.
Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily. "You know I would in a heartbeat, but I can't," I lamented, a sense of resignation creeping into my voice. The idea of being a part of the royal family held little appeal for me. If only people knew how suffocating and challenging it truly was, they wouldn't wish it upon their worst enemies, let alone themselves. While royalty may elevate your status in the eyes of others, it often diminishes your own sense of self-worth.
Shaking off my thoughts, I refocused on the matter at hand. "Anyway, tell me about this new bodyguard. Who is Alexander Clifton?" I inquired, eager to learn more about the mysterious figure tasked with watching over me.
And so, Xavier enlightened me. "I like to call him a modern-day, real-life James Bond," he chuckled. "He's renowned for his combat skills, and, well, he's quite popular among the ladies," he added with a playful eyebrow wiggle. I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose in disgust at the notion.
Xavier chuckled at my reaction. "No one knows much about him. He's incredibly private and exclusive. He doesn't work for just anyone, but my sources tell me that your father personally sought him out and hired him," he explained. "There's not much to tell about Alexander Clifton. I'm as much in the dark as everyone else. All anyone knows is that he's remarkably handsome, incredibly exclusive, quite wealthy, and one of the country's top combat experts. Hiring such a high-profile figure means business. I suppose your father's had enough of your antics, Amy," Xavier teased, his words hitting a nerve.
I shot him a glare, my anger simmering beneath the surface. But Xavier was unfazed. He was well accustomed to my outbursts.
I cared little for the high-profile status of this new bodyguard; I was adamant about not tolerating my father's latest schemes. Determined to ensure this newcomer departed as swiftly as his predecessors, I promptly cranked up the music again after Xavier's departure. Left alone with the blaring tunes and my own tangled thoughts, I realized that confronting my father was inevitable, especially with Aunt Kathryn's unwelcome presence lingering in the castle.
Normally, I preferred to remain sequestered in my room when my aunt visited, but this time, leaving my sanctuary was imperative. I needed to confront my father and demand that he back off before I took matters into my own hands and made him regret hiring Alexander Clifton. As I left the music blaring, I made my way to the shower, seeking a moment of solace before facing the impending confrontation.
Emerging from the shower, I changed into denim shorts and a tank top – attire deemed inappropriate for someone of my status within the royal family. My rank came with a rulebook dictating modesty, but I had little regard for such restrictions. I relished in flaunting my defiance, donning a pink top and dirty pink sneakers in defiance of the palace's expectations.
With determination coursing through my veins, I resolved to pay my father a visit – our first interaction in two weeks. The last time we crossed paths, it ended in a heated argument following my successful efforts to drive away Benjamin, the previous bodyguard.
As soon as I stepped out of my room, my worst nightmare, Lucas greeted me with his trademark smirk. It was a smirk that grated on my nerves, devoid of innocence or playfulness; it was sinister and repugnant. His gaze lingered on me, scanning from my feet up to my face with unsettling scrutiny as if I were nothing more than a piece of meat. A low whistle escaped his lips, sending a chill down my spine. Lucas's presence filled me with unease on every level. I despised him.
Despite my discomfort, Lucas always seemed to be welcomed in the castle. Why? Because he was my Aunt Kathryn's stepson. "Hey, Amy, long time no see," he greeted his eyes once again trailing down to my bare legs. The urge to cover myself surged within me, but I fought to maintain my composure. Gritting my teeth, I shot him a glare. "You look really nice. You even gained a little weight," he remarked with a chuckle, his tone dripping with taunting malice. "Finally off the drugs?" he jeered, his words cutting deep. I loathed him with every fiber of my being.
I clenched my jaws tightly. "Not really," I replied, my tone sharp. "Drugs happen to be one of the few pleasures in my life. After all, I'm not really surrounded by many other delightful things," I added, letting my gaze linger on him from head to toe. It was a subtle jab, but as always, he remained unaffected.
Refusing to be deterred, I struck where it hurt. "Hey, how's your dad?" I asked, my smirk mirroring his own sinister expression. I watched with satisfaction as his grin slowly faded. "Still in jail?" I pressed, my words hanging heavy in the air. His glare intensified, but he offered no reply.
"Oh, I heard he got a beating from his cellmate for making a racist remark," I continued, unable to resist a laugh. "Isn't it satisfying when a criminal racist gets put in their place?" I taunted, relishing the discomfort evident in his glare.
His father, my aunt's second husband, was a man shrouded in darkness. Currently serving time in prison for corruption, he had tried to sway my father into aiding his escape, but to my relief, my father stood firm, guided by his principles. While my father may be difficult to deal with, he at least had integrity.
My aunt, on the other hand, was incensed by my father's refusal to intervene, but her fury was powerless against the authority of the state's king. Despite her protests, my father's financial support and lavish gifts kept her tethered, her lack of self-respect evident in her continued presence at the castle, where she pretended her husband was not a criminal.
As for Lucas, he hailed from my aunt's husband's first marriage, bearing an uncanny resemblance to his corrupt and despicable father. I made a conscious effort to remain ignorant of his actions. The less I knew about him, the better.
He let my cutting remarks about his father slide with a slow, lazy smirk, inching closer until his presence became suffocating. His warm, repugnant breath brushed against the side of my face, sending shivers down my spine. "I'm going to have so much fun with you, little Amy," he whispered, his words dripping with malice. It sounded like a threat, but I refused to show any sign of fear, standing my ground and glaring defiantly into his eyes.
With a sinister grin, he gave me one last lecherous once-over before sauntering away, leaving me to release the breath I'd been holding. His presence made me physically ill, and I cringed in disgust as relief washed over me when he disappeared into one of the adjacent rooms.
Blowing out my cheeks in frustration, I resolved to ignore him and continued my journey down the hallway toward my father's office. However, my progress was once again halted when I sensed a presence at the far end of the corridor, mirroring my stillness from the opposite side.
At the far end of the hallway stood a man, tall and lean, exuding an aura of sharpness and sophistication in his impeccably tailored black suit. His hands were clasped behind his back, his gaze piercing as it locked onto mine. Even from a distance, I could detect a subtle twitch in his eye and the tension evident in his clenched jaw. His lips were pressed into a thin line, devoid of any emotion.
As my eyes traveled down his form, I took note of his thick, silky hair perfectly styled atop his head, a testament to his meticulous grooming. His attire exuded wealth and refinement, but it was the glimpse of a gun tucked into his belt beneath his jacket that caught my attention, sending a jolt of recognition through me. It dawned on me then – this was Alexander Clifton.
Our eyes met, and I felt a surge of apprehension as his gaze bore into mine, devoid of any emotion or reaction. Perhaps he had witnessed my unsettling encounter with Lucas earlier, but I brushed off the thought. It mattered little, as he wouldn't be staying long. My father had thrown down the gauntlet, and I had accepted the challenge, though I knew deep down I would come to regret ever involving this man.
We stood there, locked in a silent standoff, neither of us willing to back down. Our gazes remained fixed on each other, bracing for the inevitable clash and chaos that lay ahead.
It's going to be fun, I thought to myself, a flicker of excitement coursing through me despite the foreboding tension in the air.