Chapter 6 - The Bodyguard
Vincent carried Claire gently to the large velvet sofa in the corner of the room.
He did not call for his guards immediately.
Instead, he grabbed a damp cloth from the bathroom and carefully wiped the blood from her bruised lip.
His hands were incredibly gentle for a man who had just brutally executed someone.
“Did he hurt you anywhere else?” Vincent asked, his dark eyes scanning her carefully.
“I am okay,” Claire whispered, pulling her knees up to her chest.
Vincent stood up slowly, his terrifying composure returning instantly.
He walked over to the dead assassin and aggressively ripped the tactical sleeve higher.
The Caldwell family crest, a silver serpent wrapped around an anchor, was perfectly clear.
“Vanessa,” Vincent growled, his voice vibrating with absolute fury.
Claire wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the deep chill of the enormous room.
“Why would Vanessa send someone to kill me?” Claire asked.
“Because you humiliated her, and you threaten her desperate grip on my empire,” Vincent explained coldly.
He pulled a sleek black phone from his pocket and dialed a single number.
“Marco, we have a dead body in the east wing,” Vincent ordered.
Within seconds, four heavily armed men rushed into the damaged bedroom.
They efficiently wrapped the assassin in a thick tarp and carried him away without a single word.
Vincent turned back to Claire, running his hand through his dark hair in frustration.
“You cannot stay in this room, they know the layout.”
“Where exactly am I supposed to go?” Claire asked, feeling entirely hopeless.
“You are coming into my bedroom,” Vincent stated firmly.
Claire’s eyes widened in pure shock.
“Excuse me?”
“It is the safest room in the entire state, and I will be sitting in the chair by the door.”
She wanted to argue, but the lingering metallic smell of blood in the room silenced her.
She followed Vincent silently through a heavy, hidden adjoining door.
His master suite was dark, masculine, and smelled intoxicatingly of cedar and expensive cologne.
Vincent pulled back the heavy silk sheets on his massive bed.
“Sleep,” he commanded softly.
Claire climbed into the bed, sinking deeply into the most comfortable mattress she had ever felt.
Vincent dragged a heavy leather armchair directly in front of the locked door.
He sat down in the darkness, resting his loaded pistol casually on his knee.
Claire watched his silhouette for a long time, feeling safer than she had in twenty years.
The morning sun eventually crept through the heavy velvet curtains.
Claire woke to find the leather chair completely empty.
She sat up quickly, panic gripping her chest tightly.
The bedroom door opened, and Vincent walked in carrying a silver breakfast tray.
He placed the warm coffee and pastries gently on the bedside table.
“Eat,” he said, sitting on the very edge of the mattress.
Claire looked at the beautiful food, but her stomach was completely tied in knots.
“What are you going to do about Vanessa?” she asked quietly.
Vincent’s jaw tightened dangerously.
“I am going to destroy her entire family.”
Before he could explain further, his encrypted cell phone rang loudly.
Vincent answered it, his expression darkening with every passing second.
He hung up the phone and stood up abruptly.
“What is it?” Claire asked, sensing the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Vanessa's father just forcefully seized control of all my shipping ports in the city.”
Claire gasped.
“He is essentially declaring a mafia war against my family,” Vincent explained.
He walked toward the door, his posture rigid and commanding.
“Stay in this room, Claire, and do not open the door for anyone but me.”
Vincent locked the door securely behind him, leaving Claire entirely alone.
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Ten minutes later, the door handle rattled violently from the outside.
A key slid into the lock, and the door swung open to reveal Vanessa Caldwell holding a silver revolver.
