Two months.

That was how long Sylvie had endured Ryan Finley shadowing her. Sixty one days of clipped and annoying commands. Eight whole weeks of his icy gray eyes evaluating her every move with. She felt like she was losing her mind.

Ryan followed her everywhere she went. The café, boutique, every charity gala and corporate dinner, every walk to her car.

He existed in silence, with his black clothes and unreadable expression and he never spoke unless it was about protocol. He never smiled too. Today was no different.

Sylvie stepped out of a luxury boutique on Fifth Avenue, an oversized sunglasses perched on her head, shopping bags dangling from both hands. Ryan stood beside the entrance before she even noticed him move, his gaze sweeping the street.

"That is not the exit I was supposed to come out from." Sylvie snapped.

"That exit was too exposed." he replied simply. "This angle gives better visibility."

"Visibility for who? You? Because I don’t recall asking for surveillance." she said walking to her car.

Ryan didn’t respond. He opened the car door. Sylvie didn’t move.

"You know," she said, "for someone who’s supposed to be protecting me, you seem very determined to ruin my day."

"No," Ryan said. "I’m preventing opportunities for someone else to ruin it.

He didn’t even bother looking at her as he added, "Get in the car, Miss Wilfred."

"I am not a mission."

"No," he said. "You are a high-target individual with poor impulse control."

Her jaw dropped. "What did you just...?"

"Car. Now."

Sylvie stomped into the car so hard the vehicle rocked. Ryan closed the door calmly behind her.

---

Attempt 7: Operation Ditch Ryan

That night, she tried ditching him again. Her plan was flawless, at least that was what she thought.

She waited until he turned to answer a call from her father’s head of security, then snuck out through the kitchen garden, climbed over the smaller stone wall, and slipped into the alley behind the mansion barefoot so her heels wouldn’t click.

She smirked to herself, whispering, "Checkmate."

She made it all the way to the side gate and reached for the lock. Then a shadow fell over her.

She froze. Ryan stood there with his arms crossed and a deadpan expression.

"How... how did you get here before me?" Sylvie demanded.

Ryan offered the faintest tilt of his head. "Protocol."

"That’s not an answer!"

"You used the garden exit. You always try the garden exit."

"I do not!"

"You’ve attempted it six times." he replied.

Sylvie scoffed. "You keep count?!"

"Yes."

He stepped aside and opened the gate for her to go back inside the mansion to get her car.

"Let’s go. We'll go to wherever you are going together."

"Ughh, you are unbelievable." Sylvie hissed, marching past him.

Ryan followed silently behind her, not even breathing loud enough to satisfy her need to be annoyed.

"You know," she said over her shoulder, "normal bodyguards don’t treat their clients like this"

"I’m not a normal bodyguard."

"You can say that again."

"I’m not a normal bodyguard."

"I DIDN’T MEAN... Ugh... forget it!"

He didn't say anything else. He always said nothing when she was trying to ignite him which only infuriated her more.

The next morning, Sylvie stormed into the foyer with her handbag slung over her shoulder. Ryan was already waiting by the door with a straight posture.

He didn’t need to ask where she was going. She never told him.

"Can I just be alone today?" she asked.

"No" he replied flatly.

"Why are you like this?"

"I’m not your friend, Miss Wilfred. I’m not here to impress you or argue with you. I’m here to keep you safe."

"And I’m here to live my life without a six-foot freezer following me everywhere!"

Ryan lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. "Then stop trying to get kidnapped."

Sylvie’s eyes widened. "Wow. You really know how to charm a girl."

"Protocol requires honesty." he replied.

"Protocol requires you to have a personality!"

Ryan blinked slowly.

"No," he said flatly. "Personality is a distraction."

Sylvie threw her hands up. "I can’t do this! I cannot do this with you for another day."

"You don’t have a choice."

"Watch me."

She turned on her heel and began running toward her car.

Ryan stepped in front of the door before she even reached the handle.

"Move." He requested.

"No" she replied stubbornly.

"I could call you father"

Sylvie’s voice was almost a whisper. “You’re evil.”

"No," Ryan corrected. "I’m efficient."

She shoved past him and stomped toward the living room, deciding not go out again while muttering curses under her breath.

Ryan followed.

Hours later, the house finally quieted. The tension between them lingered, but exhaustion eventually dragged Sylvie into a calmer mood.

She walked downstairs for water.

As she approached her father’s office, she heard murmurs through the slightly open door. Cole Wilfred never murmured, he only lowered his voice when something was very, very wrong. Sylvie paused.

Her father whispered sharply into the phone.

"Yes… yes, I already told you. It wasn’t an accident. Someone sabotaged the expansion deal. Sabotaged us. They’re pushing, and they know exactly where to strike."

Sylvie’s eyes widened.

Sabotage?

The following day, morning sunlight spilled across the Wilfred estate as Sylvie stepped out of the mansion, hoping for a calm day. But the moment she reached the driveway, she noticed an unusual tension in the air, security guards whispering, cars moving faster than normal and phones ringing nonstop.

Ryan was already waiting beside the SUV with his arms folded and his eyes scanning the perimeter like he was looking for a threat detection. He didn’t look at her, didn’t greet her, didn’t even blink.

"Get in." he said flatly.

Sylvie raised a brow. "Wow. Not even a ‘good morning’? You’re evolving."

"This is not the morning for jokes."

Something in his tone, sharper than usual made her pause. She got inside without another comment.

As soon as they reached the company’s main headquarters, everything clicked into place. It was like there was chaos.

Employees crowded the lobby, murmuring anxiously. There were news vans parked outside the gates. Security was doubled. Phones buzzed from every corner, and several directors rushed past with pale faces and frantic steps.

"What’s going on?" Sylvie whispered as she stepped out of the car and walked into the company.

A shaken receptionist looked at her with wet eyes. "Miss Wilfred… I’m so sorry. The… the shipping containers…"

"What about them?" Sylvie asked, confused.

But before anyone could answer, the elevator doors slid open, revealing her father, Cole Wilfred, storming out with two board members trailing behind him. His expression was thunderous.

"Dad?" Sylvie hurried to him. "What happened?"

He didn’t stop walking. "This is not the place, Sylvie."

"Dad!" She grabbed his arm lightly.

He exhaled hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Several of our international shipping containers were sabotaged overnight. Destroyed. Millions in losses, delays, lawsuits. Media hysteria. That's all I can say for now."

Sylvie’s mouth fell open. "What? How?"

"We don't know yet," he cut in. "But the timing is deliberate."

Sylvie swallowed. The building suddenly felt too small, too suffocating.

Her father’s voice cracked just slightly as he spoke to the board. "We need all senior staff in the crisis room now. No leaks or excuses."

He turned to Ryan. "Stay with her. Don’t let her out of your sight today."

Ryan nodded once. "Understood."

Cole rushed off, leaving Sylvie standing there looking confused and rattled.

They made their way toward the side entrance, but a commotion near the parking lot pulled Sylvie’s attention. A group of warehouse workers people she’d seen around for years were huddled together… lamenting, some were even crying.

A middle-aged woman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "My husband depends on those shipments. If Wilfred freezes operations… we’ll lose everything."

Another man muttered, "They’re saying layoffs might start soon… that the company may not recover."

Sylvie felt her chest tightened.

This wasn’t just a scandal. It was people. Families. Real consequences.

Guilt hit her unexpectedly, hard and cold. She had always seen her father’s empire as some giant, unshakeable machine. Something that would always stand no matter how recklessly she behaved.

But this… this looked fragile.

She whispered under her breath, "This is bad."

Beside her, Ryan's voice was low but sharp. "It’s not random."

Sylvie snapped out of her thoughts. "What?"

Ryan stepped slightly in front of her as a wave of reporters rushed past. His posture stiffened, scanning the area like a man who expected a gun to appear at any second.

"This kind of damage," he continued, jaw tightening, "It’s too coordinated. Too precise. It feels like someone planned this."

Sylvie shivered. "You mean… someone did?"

"Just a thought"

Sylvie’s heartbeat skipped.

"Ryan," she said slowly, "you think this is organized, don’t you?"

Ryan didn’t answer immediately.

His jaw flexed once. “It has all the markings of organized crime.”

Sylvie sucked in a shaky breath.

Her world,her glamorous, chaotic, lively world, was suddenly tilting. Everything felt uncertain. Her family, her safety, the company, the people lamenting in the parking lot…

This wasn’t some business hiccup.

"Let’s go." Ryan finally said, gently placing a hand on her back to steer her away.

"Where?" Sylvie asked.

"A much quieter place"

She nodded silently, her chest tight as they walked away from the chaos.

The moment they stepped into the elevator, Sylvie felt the weight of it all settle on her shoulders.

Her father wasn’t just angry these days. He was scared. And now, so was she.

The Wilfred empire had seen powerful men walk through its doors, politicians, investors, industry giants but never anyone like Zade Russo.

Sylvie didn’t know that yet.

The rowdiness was much reduced compared to yesterday. But as she got to company, there were more guards than usual. The staff whispered in tight circles. The air itself felt heavier.

She and Ryan stood by the lobby.

"What’s going on?" she asked.

Ryan didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, just once. "Your father is expecting a visitor."

"Okay… and?"

"And it’s someone important."

The tone in his voice, flat but strained, made her stop.

"Ryan," she pressed, "who exactly is coming?"

Before Sylvie could ask more, the doors below opened. Two men in dark suits entered first, guards. Then he stepped inside. Zade Russo.

Young, handsome. His dark hair slicked back with expensive precision. His suit was tailored so perfectly.

Sylvie froze at the top of the stairs, her breath caught in her throat without knowing why. The air around him changed everything like the temperature dropped, like the walls leaned away from him.

Zade's gaze flickered upward, catching Sylvie staring. He smiled slowly, like he knew something she didn’t.

Ryan instantly moved, stepping one inch in front of her. A silent blockade. A warning.

And that’s when her father appeared.

Cole Wilfred walked toward Zade with a stiff spine and a forced smile, hand outstretched. "Zade, you arrived earlier than expected."

Zade shook his hand with a soft, amused exhale. "I don’t like being kept waiting. Not for business or for anything."

"You received the documents?" her father asked.

"I did," Zade replied. "We have things to discuss."

His expression darkened just slightly.

"And they won’t be pleasant."

Ryan subtly shifted, his eyes following every small movement Zade made. He looked ready to jump in front of a grenade if necessary.

Sylvie moved down the stairs slowly, unable to tear her gaze away from the tension that sparked between the two men.

Her father noticed her. His stiff smile wavered. "Sylvie… now isn’t a good time."

Zade, however, looked delighted. He gave Sylvie one last slow glance, curious, interested, amused and followed Cole towards his office. The doors shut behind them.

Sylvie and Ryan stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door.

"Who is he?" Sylvie whispered.

"A problem." Ryan replied without hesitation.

"That’s not an answer."

Ryan’s voice lowered. "Zade Russo isn’t someone you want to know."

"But my father seems to know him very well."

"That’s what worries me."

Inside the office, the voices rose, first sharp, then tense, then dangerously quiet.

Sylvie stepped closer to the door.

Ryan’s hand immediately wrapped around her wrist. "Don’t."

"I just want to hear..."

"And I’m telling you no."

His voice was low, but not angry. For once, Sylvie didn’t pull away.

"What kind of man is he?" she murmured to herself.

After several tense minutes, the office door opened. Zade stepped out first. His smile was gone. Replaced with a more serious expression.

Cole followed him, looking frustrated.

Zade dusted an invisible speck off his sleeve. "Well, Cole… you know what needs to be done."

Her father didn’t respond.

Zade turned slightly, his gaze sweeping the hallway until it settled inevitably on Sylvie and he smirked.

Then, without breaking eye contact with her, he said to her father:

"There is a debt. And I always collect what I am owed."

Ryan’s hand slipped quietly toward the holster hidden under his jacket.

And Zade Russo walked out of the company with the same smooth, confident stride of a man who wasn’t threatening a family but making a promise.

A dangerous one.