“Bain! I’ve got something to tell you!” She reached for him, noticing the frown on his face.
“Ari,” he rumbled.
Then he said the one thing that could bring her happiness crashing down. That could make her remember that she couldn’t live the life she wanted.
Because her life wasn’t her own.
“Your family is here.”
Her family were demons dressed in Prada.
Honest to fucking God, he was pretty sure there wasn’t a piece of clothing on her mother’s stick-thin body that didn’t have fucking Prada written on it. And her sister wasn’t any better. Except she wore slightly less clothing.
Didn’t she know it was fucking 65 degrees out there? And she was wearing a skirt so short that if she bent over, they were all going to get an eyeful.
Please, God, don’t let her bend over. He didn’t really trust her to have underwear on.
The thought made him feel queasy.
The father wasn’t any better. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, sitting in an armchair in Arianna’s office, the look on his face colder than an arctic breeze.
As soon as he’d told her that her family was here, she’d closed down on him. And he hated it. He wished he could walk over to where she was perched on the edge of an armchair, pick her up and carry her the fuck away from these people.
“Really, Arianna, is the bodyguard necessary? We’re your family, we’re hardly going to attack you.” The mother looked him up and down dismissively.
Suited him fine. He didn’t want any attention from her. Her hair was dyed a honey-brown and pulled back severely from her face. A very-unlined and stiff-looking face. Obviously, no stranger to plastic surgery. She pursed her lips, which was an unfortunate look for her. Her legs were crossed, her hands resting on her lap. Diamonds glinted from her ears, neck and fingers.
Everything about her screamed money.
Arianna’s sister, who he knew was several years older, was just as thin as the mother. She had darker hair which she wore down. Her shirt was too tight with several buttons undone, showing off a lot of cleavage. If he had to guess, the boobs were fake and so were her pouty lips.
She didn’t look at him with disdain as she sat next to her mother. Oh no, her gaze ate him up.
The father tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair, glaring at Arianna who sat opposite him in the other armchair. Bain stood behind Ari and to the right.
She didn’t even look back at him as she answered her mother. “He stays.”
“Arianna,” her mother replied, looking shocked. “There’s no need to be so snappish.”
That was snappish? He’d heard far more attitude coming from her mouth than that. But then, maybe that was because she wasn’t afraid to give him sass. Did these people even know the real Ari?
“He’s my bodyguard, mother,” she said coolly. “He goes where I go.”
“But there’s no danger here right now,” her mother replied. “And this is a private, family matter.”
“He stays,” Arianna replied firmly.
“For God’s sake, Bernadette. Let the damn bodyguard stay. He would’ve signed an NDA. He’s not going to talk to anyone.”
“Fine. I was just trying to protect you, Arianna,” her mother drawled. “I wasn’t certain you’d want a member of your staff hearing about all your issues.”
All her issues? What the fuck? Only years of training and control allowed him to keep his face from displaying his disbelief at what this bitch just said.
“What are you talking about?” Arianna asked warily.
“Why did you hire bodyguards without consulting us, Arianna?” her father snapped. “Larry had possible candidates lined up who I am certain are much better qualified than these buffoons.”
Buffoons? Seriously?