PROLOGUE
MARCUS
I crossmy ankle over my knee in a failed attempt to stop my leg from bouncing. All I achieve is for the itch to switch to my other limb. My knee starts to bob up and down, and I swallow the growl that's been steadily building in my throat since boarding the jet. I glance at the Garmin on my wrist and calculate our remaining flight time—one more hour.
I shouldn't be here.
I'm notafraid of flying. At thirty-seven years old, there is not much that scares me. I was thrown into hell well before I was legally an adult. I fought and clawed my way out of the black pit that kept my soul hostage since I last held her. I'm alive, but I'm not. I'm in purgatory. To the clueless observer, I am having a case of aerophobia as my nails dig into the buttery soft leather of the armrest. I'm not. My heart rate has been somewhere around one-twenty, and the oxygen supply to my lungs is as delayed as the restocking of toilet paper during the pandemic a few years ago. None of this should be the case when your ass is planted on a private jet approaching a multimillion-dollar vineyard in Northern California.
I'm a mess.
I'm not supposed to be working. I've never worked this week—not in the fourteen years I'veservedunder George Weiler. He knew the date when he hired me for his security team. It was my one and only condition.
When Lilly and her husband, Rhys, informed me that they decided to move their daughter's first birthday party to the family's private estate, it was a win-win situation. The place is a fortress. Ever since becoming Lilly McGuire's bodyguard before she came out to the public and took over her family's empire six years ago, I've felt guilty about leaving her side for a whole week. She and Rhys are not just my employers; they are my friends. The closest I will ever get to having a family again. Knowing she would be shielded during my absence was a huge relief.
Then, I got the call.
George was not able to accompany Lilly on the jet as planned. He is the head of security for Lilly's family, including the business side. He runs the show. Being his second-in-command for almost a decade—and Lilly'sShadow,as I was named—it would fall on me to make sure the family arrived safely. Everyone under George is qualified. He trained us all. But neither he nor I areableto give up control when it comes to Lilly's safety. It's personal for us.
I've replayed the phone conversation in my head numerous times, searching for a clue as to why George would force me to be here. I came up blank. It could only mean one thing: something came up with Lilly's brother. If George doesn't want to talk about it, you'd have more success digging through a three-foot-deep concrete wall with a plastic spork than getting answers out of him.
Don't get me wrong, this job saved my life, which is why I will never refuse an assignment. I care about the McGuires and, of course, want to make sure their guests are secure. But being inhervicinity for longer than I already have had to be since her arrival in LA—
Her. Denielle Keller. Lilly's best friend since the two were prepubescent teens.
I lift my head, and my eyes immediately zero in on the perfectly curled, dark-brown hair spilling over the backrest two rows up. I purposefully chose the single seat in the front in order to limit having to face the woman to boarding and deplaning.
I attempt to be courteous with her, but ninety-nine percent of the time, that goes out the window. Her presence triggers a deep-rooted hatred I didn't know existed for more than one person. Most still believe it is because she clocked me in the nuts six years ago, and I had to physically restrain her for hours—I let them believe that. The last thing I want is to lose my position because of my dislike for Denielle "The Bulldog"Keller. This week, though…I have no fucking clue how I'm going to do it. I can't escape the same way I can in LA.
She laughs at something Rhys says to Lilly, and my jaw clenches of its own volition. A wave of heat spreads through my body—the unpleasant kind. Besides the physical assault, which I can somewhat excuse, given the circumstances, her presence sets me back years—not something I ever thought I'd have to go through at this age.
A ripping sound redirects my attention to the present, and I close my eyes in resignation when I take in the tear in the leather where I've dislodged it from the seat.
Well, fuck. This is going to be a long trip.
CHAPTERONE
DENIELLE
Two weeksearlier
I narrow my eyes,attempting to decipher the flutter in my chest as I stare at the mover's back. Nervousness? Relief? Excitement? All of the above?
He rolls the last stack of boxes out the door and…that's it. I didn't expect it to be such a blur. Six years coming to a close in a matter of two days.
But what did I expect? I called my best friend in the middle of the night, declaring I'd be moving in with her on the other side of the country. Lilly McGuire doesn't do anything halfheartedly.
We've been best friends forever, but life took turns neither of us would've seen coming when she had walked into Butler Gymnastics Academy that day in middle school.
My vision blurs as the door swings shut, and I stand alone in my empty apartment. The walls suddenly seem too white, the cherry hardwood floors too dark. I pivot toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and scan the buildings surrounding mine. New York was supposed to be my home, my future…
Lilly didn't ask a single question about why or what happened. She just took care of it—or her assistant did. I doubt she called the moving company herself, as busy as she is.
My BFF is the heiress to a multigazillion-dollar family hotel empire. But that is only half the reason she isfamous. When she was six years old, she was kidnapped byThe Babysitter. While she escaped then, he tracked her down ten years later.
Lilly is as well known to the public as it gets. She's on a first-name basis with the heads of all the major media outlets. She took over parts of the business, expanded it before graduating college, and now runs the whole empire like she was meant to. If she needs something done, it gets done. Someone will bend over backward to get in her good graces. Not that she's a bitch or anything. That would be me in this (platonic)relationship. I'mThe Bulldog, a title I equally loathe and embrace. If you mean harm to the people I care about, I will bite down and not let go until you submit. But when it comes to me…well, that has become a different story over the last few years.
Lilly simply keeps her inner circle to a minimum. She has trust issues, but who can blame her? The past has shaped how we approach our future. We should all probably be more fucked up than we appear, but not everything lives on the surface. I'm the best example of that.