June 2028. The sweltering summer sun bore down on Celeste's new estate, the sprawling property flanked by stone walls and acres of manicured land. Despite the peaceful setting, unease lingered. Inside, the house buzzed with quiet activity, her team constantly working to shield her from the mounting pressures of fame.
Marco, Zion, and Rollan—the three pillars of her security detail—were stationed nearby, their sharp eyes trained on the property. They'd become more than guards over the months; they were confidants, though their dynamic was often tested by the weight of Celeste's secrets.
In the expansive living room, Celeste paced, the anxiety evident in her every movement. The looming presence of Eleanor Vaughn, still fresh in her mind, hung like a specter over her choices. She hadn't seen or heard from Eleanor since their last encounter, but she knew the clock was ticking.
Zion entered, his broad shoulders blocking the doorway as he leaned casually against the frame. "You've been in your head all morning. What's going on?"
"Nothing." Celeste gave a tight-lipped smile. "Just a lot on my plate."
Zion wasn't buying it. "You think we don't notice? Marco spotted someone casing the perimeter yesterday. Same car, same guy, three times this week. Whoever they are, they're getting bolder."
Celeste froze. "Why wasn't I told sooner?"
"We wanted to be sure it wasn't just paparazzi," Zion replied. "But now… we think it's something else."
As if summoned, Marco and Rollan appeared in the room. Marco, the stoic leader of the team, crossed his arms. "It's not paparazzi. This guy's deliberate—he's scouting."
"Scouting for what?" Celeste asked, her voice trembling.
Rollan, the youngest of the trio but no less capable, stepped forward. "That's what we're going to find out. We've got eyes on him now, and if he steps foot on this property again, he won't make it past the gates."
The tension in the room was palpable. Marco broke the silence. "Celeste, you've got to be honest with us. Is there something we don't know? Something that could be bringing this heat?"
She hesitated. The weight of her double life pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. But she shook her head. "It's just the price of fame, right?"
The three men exchanged wary glances but didn't press her further.
Later that evening, Celeste sat in the library, sipping a glass of wine. Marco entered, his presence commanding even in silence. He took the seat across from her, folding his hands on the table.
"You know, we're not just here to guard the house," he said, his tone softer than usual. "We're here to protect you. That means from anything, even things you're afraid to tell us."
Celeste met his gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I appreciate that, Marco. But trust me, there's nothing to worry about."
He didn't look convinced, but he nodded, standing to leave. "We've got your back. Always."
As the night deepened, Celeste couldn't shake the feeling that her carefully constructed world was beginning to crack. She was grateful for her security team—her only buffer between her and the chaos threatening to consume her.
But as she stared into the firelight, she couldn't ignore the shadow outside the window, slipping into the night.
To Be Continued…