Beautiful Protection

Erin was underwater, trying to drown herself in her own misery. The silence beneath the surface wrapped around her like a coffin. Her lungs burned, her heart pounded, but the pain in her chest was nothing compared to the betrayal that had brought her here. The water blurred her vision, yet her memories cut with perfect sharpness. Her husband planned it all along. Perfectly. So perfectly that even her father, the man who raised her, did not take her side. She was betrayed, and yet somehow, she became the disgrace of the Mendez family. Where did it go wrong? she asked herself, bubbles slipping past her lips as her body trembled. She tried to trace the lines of her marriage, hoping to find where love had slipped out and poison crept in. The more she searched, the clearer it became: it was never right from the start. Her marriage with Will Ferguson was nothing but a cruel transaction, a bond sealed not with love but with the weight of her wealth. It was all clear to her now. The charm, the promises, the way he looked at her father with respect and loyalty. It was all a carefully constructed mask. Her father trusted Will so much that he treated him as if he were the legal son instead of her. Will managed the family businesses while she was tucked away in the villa, accused of living idly and wasting time. Will’s words, thrown like stones, echoed in her head: You do nothing. You contribute nothing. All you do is sit here like a spoiled child. She clenched her fists as the memory tore her open again. Even submerged in water, she could not escape the wounds he left her with. The suffocating ache in her lungs matched the suffocating ache in her heart. There was no way she could forgive him. Not even if he came crawling back, not even if he tried to make love to her. But that, too, was a cruel irony. Will never once touched her. On their honeymoon night, instead of lying beside her, instead of making her his wife in truth, Will boarded a plane and vanished on a business trip that lasted three weeks. What man in his right mind would do that? The question had haunted her every night she lay alone in their bed. And after that, there were always more business trips, more excuses, more lies. Until finally, she stopped asking. How could she have been so naive? So understanding, so willing to believe every excuse? She had carried the weight of that silence, and when she decided to tell her father about the sham of her marriage, it was already too late. Will had been ahead of her again. Evidence was thrown at her face. Pictures, messages, things she had never done. She was accused of cheating, humiliated in her own father’s presence. Her protests, her tears, her cries of innocence fell on deaf ears. Her father had looked at her not with compassion, but with disappointment. Now, with the last of her strength, Erin opened her mouth under the water. The final breath, if that was what she could call it, slipped out of her chest, and she let herself sink. Her last thought was bitter: Let Father grieve when he realizes what he has done. Let him regret not believing me. And then, the water erupted. Someone had jumped in. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her up, dragging her from the depths. Erin’s body resisted, but she was too weak to fight. Her back hit the cold stone floor beside the pool, her skin shivering from the sudden exposure. Her chest heaved painfully, and the man above her shouted her name. “Hey, Erin! Hey!” His voice was commanding, urgent. His hands checked her pulse, tilted her chin, pressed against her sternum. He pushed against her chest, again and again, each thrust a desperate attempt to coax life back into her body. His breath covered hers as he delivered air, his mouth sealed over hers, forcing oxygen into her lungs. Over and over. Until suddenly, Erin coughed. She convulsed, clutching her chest, water spewing out of her throat. Her vision blurred with tears and chlorine, her body trembling in pain. She was alive. But she was not grateful. “Let me die!” she sobbed, her eyes shut tight. “Let me die!” “Not now.” The coldness of the reply pierced through her, startling her enough to open her eyes. A man hovered over her, drenched head to toe in a dark uniform that clung to his body. His features were sharp, his gaze steady, his jaw tight. He was not Will. He was not her father. He was a stranger. Her heart lurched. Then realization dawned, this must be her new bodyguard. “I’m Xander Grant, your personal bodyguard,” he introduced himself, his voice even. Erin’s eyes blazed with anger. “Please leave,” she commanded. The last thing she wanted was another man around her, another spy in her life, another pair of eyes reporting back to Will. “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Mrs. Ferguson.” Before she could protest further, he scooped her up in his arms. Erin gasped, yelping in surprise. “Put me down!” she demanded, her fists weakly striking his chest. But Xander ignored her. His hold was steady, unyielding, as though her weight meant nothing. He carried her across the courtyard toward the villa. She squirmed like a child in a tantrum, but her strength was gone. He carried her easily, his strides purposeful. He had already been briefed about the layout of the villa, every corner and hallway memorized, but he had not expected to start his duty in this way, dragging a half-dead woman from her own pool. If she had floated lifeless, his job would have ended before it even began. The bedroom door swung open, and Erin’s familiar scent filled the air. The room was undeniably feminine. Soft linens, delicate perfume, a sanctuary that had been her prison for months. Xander scanned quickly, then lowered her onto the mini sofa near the window. “Leave,” Erin muttered, hugging herself as though to protect the fragments of dignity she still had left. But when she noticed his eyes lingering on her, tracing her trembling form, her blood boiled. “So, what’s your plan now?” she spat, her tone laced with venom. Xander frowned, not understanding. “Are you going to take a picture of us together? Naked on my bed? And then send it to my father so it looks more believable?” The words cut through the silence like broken glass. Xander only stared, his face unreadable. She looked half-mad, but behind her words was a broken woman who had already been accused of crimes she never committed. “Let’s cut to the chase, Xander. I’m sure Will would be delighted if you accomplished that in no time.” Her lips curled into a wicked smile, but her eyes were burning with tears. Xander’s expression didn’t waver. He only shook his head slightly, his drenched hair dripping onto the floor. “Mrs. Ferguson, your invitation sounds good,” he said flatly, “but I’d like to keep my job.” He turned toward the door, intending to leave her alone. But her voice stopped him. “There’s only one way for you to keep your job,” Erin whispered, her tone sharp enough to slice through the quiet. Xander froze, his hand on the doorframe. “Sleep with me.”