OOPS, MY BODYGUARD HUSBAND IS A BILLIONAIRE

Hazel tugged her black raincoat tighter around her, the downpour soaking the edges of her hem as she hurried into the hotel lobby. She kept her head low, the brim of her rain hat pulled down to shield her face. A group of well-dressed guests walked past her, their whispers sharp as blades.

"Did you hear? Hazel Martinez, the once-glorious heiress, got married today. To a servant, no less."

"Unbelievable. She used to be so beautiful and untouchable. Now, she's just... nothing."

"Well, her parents' deaths ruined everything. With her uncle in charge, she's barely above a servant herself."

Hazel didn't flinch, though their words stung like nettles. Instead, she moved silently, her lashes hiding the flicker of pain in her eyes. Since her parents' death a year ago, her life had become a cruel shadow of what it once was. Her uncle and grandmother had taken everything-her home, her inheritance, even her dignity. Now, they were forcing her to marry a bodyguard, a man they considered unworthy, as the final nail in her coffin.

The only bargaining chip she had left was her parents' burial rights in the ancestral tomb-a privilege her uncle dangled cruelly over her head. She had no choice but to obey.

When the group moved on, Hazel finally reached the hotel room Ryan had asked her to meet him in. She knocked twice. The door opened quickly, and there he was: Ryan, her ex-boyfriend, his expression equal parts anxious and calculating.

Hazel stepped inside and held out her hand, her tone cold. "Ryan, you said you had my father's heirloom. Where is it?"

Ryan hesitated, then sighed. "Hazel, I lied. I just wanted to see you."

Her jaw tightened, and she turned to leave, but his voice stopped her mid-step.

"Hazel...elope with me."

She froze, her hand on the doorframe. Slowly, she turned, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Elope? You proposed to my cousin last week, Ryan. Or did you forget?"

His face flushed, but he pressed on, desperation leaking into his tone. "I'm marrying her, yes, but only for my family's approval. Hazel, I still care about you. Come with me to another city. I'll protect you."

Hazel's stomach twisted in disgust. "You want me to be your mistress, is that it?"

Ryan adjusted his glasses and shrugged nonchalantly, as if his request were reasonable. "It's not uncommon. Men used to have wives and concubines. I'm just asking you to be discreet. My wife doesn't need to know."

The audacity of his words burned through her like fire. "Discreet?" she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what would this arrangement look like?"

Ryan mistook her tone for curiosity and smiled, oblivious. "Simple. You'd live comfortably, with no need to work. Don't call me during the day, and I'll visit you whenever I can. If you get pregnant, we'll deal with it-quietly. Of course, I'll cover the expenses." He paused, then added casually, "But if it's a son, we might keep him. A daughter? No need."

Hazel's nails dug into her palms. Her voice, low and cutting, sliced through his fantasies. "You're shameless, Ryan."

His face twisted in anger as he grabbed her arm. "You'd rather marry that dog Michael than be with me? Don't fool yourself, Hazel. He's beneath you, and everyone knows it."

"Let me go!" Hazel spat, yanking her arm free. "Michael may have nothing, but at least he has integrity. Unlike you."

Ryan's eyes darkened, and his composure snapped. He grabbed her again, his grip iron-tight as he pushed her towards the bed. Hazel's breath caught, panic flaring in her chest.

"You think you can talk to me like that?" he hissed, his tie loosening as he leaned closer. "I gave you everything once, Hazel. Now you owe me. If you want to marry someone else, you'll give yourself to me first."

Hazel struggled, her nails clawing at his wrist. "Ryan, stop this!" she cried, her voice trembling with fury and fear. "I'm married now!"

"Married?" He laughed bitterly, his weight pinning her down. "Michael is nothing but a dog in the Martinez Family. He's my subordinate. He wouldn't dare cross me."

Hazel's heart pounded as she grabbed a lamp from the bedside table, ready to swing it. But before she could act, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from outside the door.

The tension in the room snapped taut. Ryan froze, his head whipping toward the door. "I told you to wait downstairs!" he barked. "Whoever it is, get out!"

The footsteps paused, then a low, icy voice cut through the air like a blade. "They couldn't stop me. Perhaps I should introduce myself instead."

Hazel's head shot up, her eyes widening. The man who entered was tall and commanding, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His gloves gleamed, and his tie sat impeccably knotted. His strikingly handsome face was a mask of cold indifference, but his eyes-sharp, dark, and fathomless-radiated an authority that made the air in the room feel heavy.

Michael.

He stepped inside with deliberate calm, the tension in his shoulders coiled like a predator ready to strike. His gaze flicked to Hazel, who lay disheveled on the bed, then to Ryan, who stood frozen in place, his confidence rapidly draining.

"Michael," Ryan stammered, his voice cracking. "This... this isn't what it looks like."

Michael adjusted his gloves with an almost casual precision, his movements slow and deliberate. When he spoke, his voice was soft, yet it carried a weight that made the walls seem to shrink. "I believe," he began, his tone as sharp as ice, "you've forgotten your place, Ryan."

Hazel watched in stunned silence as Michael's imposing presence filled the room. For the first time in her life, she saw Ryan falter, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Michael's gaze. And for the first time, she wondered just how much she truly knew about the man she had married.