Chapter 1: Under His Umbrella

“I’d like you to protect me.”

The man holding the umbrella said it as though he were asking me to pass the salt.

I looked past him at the wedding venue. The catering staff were carrying chairs inside, my mother was arguing with someone about leftover cake, and my sister had already left with her husband.

“You’re a little late,” I told him. “The wedding’s over.”

“I know.”

“Then who let you back in?”

His mouth curved. “I came looking for you, Cole.”

That should have worried me. Strangers who knew my name usually wanted money, a fight, or an explanation for why their friend had lost a fight.

This stranger looked expensive enough to purchase all three.

He stood close to me beneath a black umbrella, wearing a dark suit that had probably cost more than my car. Rain glittered in his hair. His face was familiar, although I couldn’t place it with my shirt sticking to my back and half a wedding still rattling around my head.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Have we met?”

“Not properly.”

His voice was low and unhurried. I had expected something softer from that face.

Then he shifted the umbrella farther over my shoulder, letting the rain catch the edge of his own jacket.

That did it.

“You’re Adrian Vale.”

“Usually.”

“My sister watched your hospital show.”

“Did she like it?”

“She cried when your character died.”

“That sounds promising.”

“She also threw a cushion at the television.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I nearly smiled. It felt strange after the afternoon I’d had.

Lucy’s wedding had gone perfectly. She’d laughed through her vows, cried through mine, and finally told me to stop checking the doors because Daniel’s security team had everything covered.

Then she’d hugged me and left.

For twelve years, protecting her had been the one thing I never needed to think about. If she was going somewhere, I checked the place first. If someone stood too close, I moved between them. If an alpha started acting like basic manners were optional, I helped him remember.

Now she was married to a man she trusted, living in a building with security, and making plans that didn’t require her brother waiting outside.

I was happy for her.

I also had no idea what to do on Monday.

Adrian watched me with an expression that made me wonder how long I’d been staring at the empty driveway.

“You said something about protection,” I reminded him.

“I need a bodyguard.”

“You’ve got money. Hire a company.”

“I’ve tried companies.”

“And?”

“They sent people who spent more time looking for cameras than watching the room.”

I glanced at him again. There was a small crease between his eyebrows now, and the umbrella handle looked oddly delicate in his hand.

Actors rarely announced their secondary designation. With the way omegas were treated in the industry, I couldn’t blame them. An attractive omega with a famous face would draw attention from exactly the sort of people I’d spent years keeping away from Lucy.

Adrian was taller than I’d expected, but that didn’t mean much. Omegas came in different sizes. Being tall had never stopped anyone from needing help.

“What kind of coverage?”

“Travel, public appearances, filming days. My manager can explain the details.”

“I don’t have a celebrity-security résumé.”

“I know what you have.”

That brought my attention back to his face.

He didn’t look embarrassed by the admission.

“You protected your sister,” he continued. “You know how to keep someone safe without making them feel like luggage.”

The rain tapped against the umbrella. Behind us, a member of the wedding staff dropped a tray, and my shoulders tightened before I saw what had happened.

Adrian noticed. His gaze moved toward the sound, then returned to me.

“I’m asking you to meet my manager,” he said. “You don’t have to agree tonight.”

That was reasonable.

Reasonable would have been easier to resist if he hadn’t been standing there with rain soaking into one shoulder because he’d kept the umbrella over mine.

“Fine,” I said. “A meeting.”

He smiled properly then.

I understood why people bought tickets to look at him.

Grace Ellis had a folder full of photographs of me.

Some were from licensed amateur matches. A few were from gyms that had never bothered with paperwork. One showed me at twenty, nose bleeding, grinning beside a man who clearly wasn’t enjoying the evening as much as I was.

I slid that one facedown.

“Not my best angle.”

“Your record is impressive,” Grace said.

“My record is mostly people discovering that being an alpha isn’t a fighting qualification.”

Across the room, Adrian made a quiet sound into his coffee.

He was sitting on a leather sofa in a charcoal robe, his damp hair pushed off his forehead. Apparently I’d arrived just after his shower.

I kept my eyes on the folder.

Mostly.

A bare ankle rested against the opposite knee. The robe had slipped enough to show the beginning of his collarbone. He looked comfortable, clean, and entirely too unguarded for someone meeting a stranger who knew six ways to put him on the floor.

Grace explained the job while I tried not to think about that.

There would be a trial period. Scheduled hours. Additional pay for overnight travel. Another security team would handle large events, but Adrian wanted one person close enough to notice problems before they reached him.

“What about emergencies outside scheduled hours?” I asked.

“We’ll establish an on-call rate.”

“And I decide when a route is unsafe.”

Grace nodded. “Within reason.”

“No posting locations in advance. No wandering off because a photographer says the light’s better somewhere.”

Adrian lowered his cup. “You’ve thought about this.”

“I’ve spent twelve years telling Lucy that a shortcut through an empty parking garage isn’t worth saving four minutes.”

Something changed in his expression. It was gone before I could decide what it meant.

Grace turned the contract toward me.

I read the salary.

Then I read it again.

The number stayed the same.

For that amount, I could afford decent insurance, repair my car, and stop taking fights because an unexpected bill had arrived. I could even buy my mother a washing machine that didn’t sound like it was trying to escape the laundry room.

I sat back so they wouldn’t see me calculating all of that.

“You understand I’m a beta,” I said.

“We do.”

“I won’t detect a pheromone change. If something feels wrong, you need to tell me. Don’t expect me to smell trouble.”

Adrian’s fingers tightened briefly around his cup.

“Understood.”

“And if anyone approaches you during a cycle, I need whatever safety information you’re comfortable sharing.”

Grace opened her mouth, but Adrian answered first.

“You’ll have access to my emergency contacts and care instructions.”

That was enough for the meeting. I wasn’t entitled to his private medical details before I’d even signed.

I reviewed the rest of the contract, asked Grace to correct the cancellation clause, and sent a copy to a friend who understood legal language better than I did. Adrian waited without trying to rush me.

That helped.

So did the salary.

I signed.

Adrian stood and offered his hand. His grip was warm and firm, stronger than I’d expected.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cole.”

“Save that until you’ve seen me refuse an unsafe exit.”

“I have a feeling you’ll enjoy that.”

“I charge extra for being ignored.”

His smile returned, slow enough to be irritating.

“Then I’ll try to behave.”

My first assignment was an airport pickup two days later.

Before we left, Grace handed me a black shirt and told me Adrian preferred his security staff to look presentable.

I usually wore loose T-shirts. This shirt had other ambitions.

It fit across my shoulders, barely, and pulled at the chest whenever I moved my arms. I checked myself in the hallway mirror and considered asking whether the clothing allowance covered replacement buttons.

Adrian appeared behind me.

His gaze moved down my reflection.

“Is it comfortable?”

“Depends whether you expect me to breathe.”

“It looks good.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

He stepped around me and smoothed a folded section of collar with two fingers. I could have fixed it myself. Instead, I stood there while he did it, which was disappointing behavior from a man with my training.

“There,” he said.

I looked away from the mirror.

“Car’s ready.”

On the way downstairs, I gave him the route, the estimated arrival time, and the fallback entrance. He listened without checking his phone.

At the elevator, he stopped me with a hand against my forearm.

“I don’t need someone who looks intimidating,” he said. “I need someone I can trust.”

For a second, I couldn’t think of anything smart to say.

Trust mattered to me. People generally hired my shoulders and forgot there was a person attached.

Adrian was looking straight at that person.

“You can trust me,” I told him.

His thumb shifted once against my sleeve before he let go.

“Good,” he said. “That’s what I was hoping.”

I followed him into the elevator, already making a private promise to keep him safe.

At that point, I still thought I understood what I’d been hired to do.