June's POV
Stepping into Mr. Don's office felt like entering a meticulously designed command center. The walls were painted in a muted gray, with sleek furniture that spoke of understated elegance. In the middle of the office stood a polished oak desk, and behind it sat Mr. Don—a tall, silver-haired man with piercing blue eyes that seemed to take in every detail of the room.
He stood as I entered, extending a hand with a warm smile. "Ms. Skylar, thank you for coming in. I'm Donald Rowe, but please, call me Don."
"Have a seat."
"Thank you," I said, shaking his hand and settling into the chair across from him. "I appreciate you meeting with me."
"Of course," he replied, folding his hands on the desk. "Your mother already filled me in on the urgency of this situation. I'm really sorry you're experiencing this, Ms. Skylar, and trust me when I say we'll do everything in our power to keep you safe."
That alone was so reassuring, and I felt myself settle into the chair with more ease. There was hope; I would get through this.
"Now, let's discuss exactly what you're looking for so we can make sure you get the best possible security."
I nodded, grateful for his professionalism and kindness. "I... I'm not sure where to start, honestly. All I know is, I'm in need of protection, but I've never been in this kind of situation."
He gave me a reassuring nod. "Understandable. We're going to start off with the basics. We provide several levels of service, each one depending on your needs. In this case, I'd suggest 24-hour surveillance."
"Twenty-four hours?" I repeated, feeling a wave of anxiety at the thought. "Does that mean someone would be with me at all times?"
"Not necessarily with you at all times," Don explained, leaning forward. "But someone would be watching you from a safe distance, ensuring your safety both in public and at home. If anything were to happen, they'd be there immediately to assist."
I nodded slowly, processing this. "So, it's not just about a bodyguard who's visibly around. It's a whole security setup?"
"Precisely," Don confirmed. "We can tailor it to your comfort level. If you'd prefer, we can arrange for a more discreet presence. They'll be close enough to keep you safe without making you feel uncomfortable."
"That sounds… ideal," I said, feeling a bit more at ease. "What about costs? I mean, I don't want my mom paying an arm and a leg for this."
Don smiled understandingly. "There are options depending on the hours of coverage, the experience level of the agent, and any extra measures you may require. I can send a detailed estimate after we finalize the plan, but for round-the-clock surveillance, you'll want someone experienced."
I nodded, deciding to focus on safety over cost for now. "Okay, that makes sense. And how do I choose who I'm comfortable with?"
"Good question," he replied, tapping a few keys on his computer. "I'll email you a list of our most experienced agents that match the profile you're looking for. Each will have a short bio, outlining their experience, skills, and some personal preferences—just enough to help you make an informed choice. We want you to feel secure, but also comfortable with whoever you decide on."
I smiled, feeling a little more in control. "That sounds helpful."
He continued, "Once you've chosen, we can discuss how visible or discreet you'd like their presence. Some clients prefer a bodyguard who remains in the background, while others feel safer with someone close by."
"Right," I murmured, weighing the options. "I think I'd prefer… someone who can blend in but is nearby if I need them. Is that possible?"
"Absolutely," he said with a nod. "Our agents are trained to adapt to your specific needs. Many of them have extensive backgrounds in both high-profile security and undercover work, so they're adept at reading situations and responding accordingly."
I exhaled, feeling both relief and a tinge of anxiety at the thought of choosing someone to trust with my safety. "Okay, I think I'm beginning to understand how this works."
"Good. We'll do everything we can to make this as smooth as possible for you," Don assured me. "And you're welcome to meet any of the agents in person before making your decision if that would help."
"That might be a good idea," I replied thoughtfully. "I'd like to know a bit about them before settling on someone."
"Of course," he agreed, making a note on his screen. "After reviewing the options, if you decide you'd like to meet someone in person, we'll set it up at your convenience."
"Thank you," I said, giving him a grateful smile.
Don rose from his chair, signaling the end of the meeting. "We're here to help. I'll have everything sent to your email shortly. Take your time with the decision, and if any questions come up, don't hesitate to reach out."
Standing up, I shook his hand, feeling a surprising sense of reassurance. "I will. Thank you again, Don."
As I left his office, I knew I had a big decision ahead of me, but for the first time in days, I felt like I had a clear path forward. This was a step toward taking control of my safety—one I knew I couldn't avoid much longer.
While taking the elevator down to the last floor, a storm of emotions whirled inside me—relief, gratitude, but also this unsettling heaviness I couldn't shake. The polished floors beneath my feet, the soft hum of activity down the hallway, and even the cold metal of the door handle as I pulled it shut behind me—all of it felt surreal. I was grateful, of course, that Don and his agency could provide the protection I needed. But the reality of everything hit me harder than I expected.
I thought I was over this overwhelming feeling, but by choosing this path, it felt like I was surrendering a part of myself, a piece of my independence. I couldn't pretend this was temporary, couldn't fool myself into thinking I'd be able to manage this alone.
I tried to imagine what this new life might look like. The thought of someone watching my every move, even from a distance, made my skin prickle. I'd always loved my quiet walks home after school, that short time to decompress and let the day drift away before I stepped into my apartment. Would I lose that, too? Would I need to give up my routines, avoid places I loved? It felt like my life was becoming something I might not even recognize.
I rubbed my temples, trying to stop the endless loop of questions. Today was supposed to make me feel safer, but all I felt was a strange loss, as if my freedom were slipping through my fingers. My fingers brushed over the cool keys in my pocket, a nervous habit I'd picked up over the past week, and I took a steadying breath.
Reaching my car, I sank into the driver's seat, letting the familiar, worn leather ease some of the tension from my shoulders. I pulled out my phone and dialed Mom's number. She picked up after a few rings, her voice soft and immediately comforting.
"June, sweetheart, how did it go?"
I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath. "It went well, Mom. Mr. Don was kind, and he explained everything. I think… I think it's going to be okay."
"Oh, honey, I'm so glad to hear that," she said, her relief palpable even through the phone. I could picture her now, probably sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. "I was just hoping that you'd feel safe about this. I know you're capable, but this… this isn't something you should handle on your own."
I hesitated, feeling the familiar warmth in her voice. Growing up, she was always my steady place—there for every scraped knee and broken heart. And now, even though I'd told myself I could handle this alone, just hearing her voice made me want to lean on her again.
"I get it, Mom. I do." I fiddled with the strap of my purse, feeling the soft leather under my thumb. "I just… I just need time to let it sink in."
My mother's voice softened even more. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart. Just know you're not alone."
I took another deep breath, feeling the smallest bit of reassurance settle into me. Maybe I couldn't do this alone, but I didn't have to. I was taking steps, one after another, to reclaim a sense of safety. And as terrifying as it felt, I knew this was something I couldn't run from.