The Heiress's Bodyguard

San Francisco, California.

A black Bentley Mulsanne drove down a sparsely populated street, the orange hue of the setting sun reflecting off its hood. Very silently, it came to a stop right in front of a storey building that buzzed with life and music.

One could say the building shook at intervals as the bass from inside boomed loudly. It was a club after all, and not just any club, it was the Noir Eclipse, a club where only the rich, the powerful, and the dangerous were granted entry.

The driver of the Bentley highlighted in haste and rushed over to the back door facing the club. His white-gloved hand wrapped softly around the door handle and with a gentle tug, the door opened, allowing the young lady at the back to step out in all resplendency.

Her lush brown hair cascaded down her back as she straightened herself by the curb, the golden glitters on her short black gown twinkling like tiny stars on a dark sky.

With much etiquette, she held her golden purse closely and stepped over the curb. She was about to take another step forward, when she quickly remembered something. She turned to face the driver, who stood by the car, waiting to watch her enter the club.

She forced out a small smile, "James, you don't have to wait for me. I plan to stay here till midnight, I don't want to waste your time. Just drive back to the mansion and I'll call you when I'm ready to leave, okay?"

The driver's stoic expression remained unchanged, "I'm sorry, young mistress, but Lord Vito ordered that I stay with you and shouldn't return unless you were with me."

"Tsk," the lady clicked her teeth in frustration. 'At what age would dad finally realise that I'm no longer a child? I'm 24 for God's sake!!'

Of course, she couldn't say that out loud. She had to maintain this air of confidence and emotional stability. If her father found out that she complained about every little thing, it would only complicate her predicament.

She let out a heavy sigh to rein her thoughts in, then a small smirk formed on her lips as an idea popped in. The driver raised a brow at this.

"Well, my dad isn't here now, is he?" She teased.

"But--"

She cut in immediately, "Come on, James. It's not like he is all-seeing. I'm not saying you should defy his orders. Just go somewhere else, have some fun or something. I will give you any amount you want..." she winked at him. Then her smile faded as she faked a tired expression, "I just want to have some fun without worrying about one of my dad's employee's watching me, you know. Try to understand how I feel."

James thought about it for a few seconds before sighing in defeat, "Alright, you win, young mistress. But if you don't call me once it's midnight, I'll be here before you know it."

She smiled, genuinely this time, "Yes! Thank you, James!"

Before James could say another word, she turned on her heels and trotted into the club.

The driver simply shook his head and went his way.

...

Inside the club, the music was louder, almost drowning out every other form of sound in the place.

The brown-haired lady was immediately embraced by another lady in the same outfit, just that the latter's hair was pitch black.

The black-haired lady disengaged and pulled her friend towards a seat at a quiet corner, "I'm so glad you could make it, Scarlet. I thought you wouldn't come after I waited for almost two hours."

Scarlet could almost roll her eyes as she replied, "You know how it is with my family, my dad especially. If Tommy hadn't supported my plea, I would have remained locked up in my room."

"Ooh, your hot brother, Tommy. How is he these days?" the black-haired lady grinned.

As they sat around the table at the quiet corner, Scarlet lowered her brows, "Tommy is never going to date you, Lora, he's engaged. And stop changing the topic."

A few bottles of red wine and two empty glasses were already set on the table.

"Heh, sorry," Lora smiled tersely, though a little pained that her crush was taken. She popped a wine bottle and filled both glasses halfway, "Just spitballing here, but you're rich, right? Like, without your dad's money?"

"Kinda, yeah?" Scarlett answered, wondering why her friend would ask her that.

"Then why can't you just... you know..." Lora slid one wine glass forward. "... Relocate. Move to an apartment of your own. Then you wouldn't have to worry about your dad caging you."

Scarlet took the wine glass and twirled it as she answered, "It's not that simple, Lora. Ugh... how do I explain this? Look, even if I did relocate, as you've suggested, which is almost impossible to do. But even if I do manage that, my dad's supervision would only get worse. A lot of his men would probably rent houses nearby and become my neighbours without me knowing, and they will trail me everywhere I go. Hell, he could even install cameras in my room."

Lora's face went pale. She was left speechless for seconds. When she finally found her voice, she stuttered, "T-That's just crazy. That's another level of being overprotective!"

"Tell me about it," Scarlet scoffed and raised the wine glass to her lips.

The curious Lora couldn't help but ask after a short moment of silence, "What exactly does your dad do to own so many... should I call them bodyguards or what?"

Scarlet averted her eyes, "Trust me, babe, you wouldn't want to know."

"No, I actually do want to know," Lora objected. "He has so many men at his disposal like some kind of king."

Scarlet couldn't help but laugh at this, "Oh, please, A King? That title belongs to my grandad. My dad doesn't even come close."

This only made Lora even more confused, "..."

Scarlet noticed the perplexity on her friend's face and sighed, "Don't think too much into it."

"Girl, your family is crazy," Lora finally voiced out.

***

That same evening, inside a small bar.

The red lights flickered every now and then, sparks flew about. Silence enveloped the entire bar, which was quite ironic for a place that was supposed to be filled with drunk men.

People were there alright, well... dead people. Multiple bodies lay sprawled across the floor of the bar, the blood oozing out of them forming a wide pool.

Albeit, one man stood tall amongst the piles of bodies. Splashes of blood stained his leather jacket, his balled fists were drenched in blood and the soles of his shoes were soaked in the pool of blood that had formed across the floor.

It was very obvious that he had single-handedly killed everyone in the bar. Everyone.

But why? And how was that even possible for a single human being?

After feasting his eyes on the bodies at his feet, he sized himself up and frowned, "Shit, this jacket was expensive."

"Don't worry, I'll get you a new one," came a voice from the other end of the bar.

In quick reflex, the man with the bloodstained fists, spun around and locked his eyes on the silhouette of a man, calmly seated at the edge of the bar.

The silhouette shifted on his seat, "Nice to meet you, Adrian Cross. I have a job for you."

"Haven't you heard? I'm retired," Adrian replied coldly, making his way toward the counter for a napkin, without taking his eyes off the man obscured by the darkness.

The silhouette chuckled, "You say that, and yet this happens."

Adrian stole a quick glance at the sprawl of bodies, "They came at me first."

"Oh, you don't have to explain to me. That's not why I'm here anyway," the silhouette raised both hands. Then he set them down and tapped his fingers on the table. "Are you ready to listen to my proposal?"

Adrian raised a brow, "Didn't you hear me? I no longer do hits."

"Oh, but you'll like this one," the silhouette interjected. "She's currently closeby actually. You must have at least heard of her father, Vito Romano."

Adrian's brows furrowed, and he gritted his teeth, "What?!"

The silhouette scoffed, "It seems you know him. Well, your target is his daughter, Scarlet Romano, and I want it done before midnight."