Chapter 4

Morning sunlight slipped through the sheer curtains and settled across Serena's bedroom, warming the cream-colored walls and the pile of clothes and bags she had carelessly left on the floor the night before. She buried her face deeper into the pillow when a knock sounded at the door.

Three slow, measured knocks. Not the impatient tapping of a maid. Not her father's hurried knock.

She already knew who it was.

"Come in," she called, her voice still thick with sleep.

The door opened, and Damien stepped inside just enough to look at her.

"Good morning." She narrowed her eyes at him before reaching for the clock on her bedside table.

"Seven-thirty?" She let out a groan and dropped back onto the mattress. "Do rich people suddenly stop sleeping once they hire bodyguards?"

"You have breakfast with your father in thirty minutes." He muttered.

"So?"

"So you asked me to remind you." She frowned.

"I did not."

"You did."

"When?" She asked already annoyed.

"Yesterday." She searched her memory and remembered blurting out something along the lines of, If you're going to follow me everywhere, you might as well wake me up on time.

She hadn't expected him to take her seriously.

"I was being sarcastic."

"I noticed." His expression never changed. Serena stared at him for a long moment, waiting for the hint of a smile that never came.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're unbelievably annoying?"

"More than once."

"And?" She asked.

"It hasn't changed anything." She clicked her tongue and pointed toward the door.

"Out." Without another word, Damien stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind him.

Serena sat upright and threw a pillow toward the door anyway. It bounced harmlessly against the wood.

"Unbelievable," she muttered.

Twenty minutes later, she walked downstairs wearing fitted white trousers and a pale blue blouse that looked effortlessly elegant. Her hair fell over one shoulder in soft waves, and she looked every bit the confident Serena Whitmore the magazines loved to write about.

Her father was already seated at the dining table with a newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

Damien stood a few steps away, hands clasped behind his back as though he had been carved from stone.

Richard looked up with a smile.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

"Morning, Dad." She kissed his cheek before taking her seat, then reached for a croissant.

Her eyes drifted toward Damien.

"Is he planning to stand there and watch me eat?"

Richard lowered his newspaper.

"He's doing his job."

"It's creepy." She scoffed.

"It's necessary." She sighed dramatically.

"I miss having privacy."

"You lose that privilege when someone is after your life." The room fell quiet. Her fingers tightened around the cup in front of her.

For a brief moment, she could still feel her own fear from that night. She forced the memory away before anyone noticed the change in her expression.

"I'm going shopping today," she said, looking directly at her father. Richard nodded.

"Fine." She smiled.

"With Mia." She said. “And Damien doesn't have to come." Her father's smile disappeared.

"He's going." She turned toward Damien.

"What if I say no?" His gaze met hers.

"Then I'll still be there." She let out a slow breath and leaned back in her chair.

"I've officially adopted a shadow."

"I'm taller than your shadow," Damien replied evenly. Serena almost laughed. Almost. Instead, she hid the smile behind another bite of her breakfast.

Maybe breaking Damien Cole wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

But that only made the challenge more interesting.

……

Serena had barely finished her breakfast when she grabbed her handbag and headed toward the front door.

Damien, who had been standing quietly near the entrance, immediately followed.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"With you." She blinked.

"I didn't invite you."

"You didn't have to." Serena stared at him, waiting for him to realize how ridiculous he sounded.

"I'm going shopping with Mia, not walking into a war zone."Damien didn't even react.

"You're still going to have security." She crossed her arms.

"I don't need someone following me around every second of the day."

"That's unfortunate." Her eyebrows lifted.

"Excuse me?"

"Because I wasn't planning to stop." She narrowed her eyes at him. Most people backed down when Serena Whitmore gave them that look. Damien Cole simply adjusted his watch like she hadn't said anything at all.

"You know," she said, stepping closer, "you are supposed to make my life easier, not more annoying."

"I'm here to keep you safe."

"Same thing?"

"No." The answer came so quickly that it irritated her even more.

Mia arrived a few minutes later and immediately noticed the tension between them.

She looked between Serena and Damien, hiding a smile.

"So this is the famous bodyguard?"

"The very annoying one," Serena replied. Damien opened the car door for her without saying a word. Serena rolled her eyes but got inside. The first boutique was easy.

The second one was manageable. By the fifth boutique, Serena was certain she had found Damien's weakness.

Patience. She spent nearly an hour trying on dresses she had no intention of buying, asked the sales assistants endless questions, and moved from one section to another while Damien stood nearby with the same unreadable expression.

Mia leaned closer to her.

"Are you trying to torture him?" Serena glanced at Damien, who was inspecting the room instead of looking bored.

"Maybe."

"He's not even bothered."

"Everyone gets bothered eventually." But Damien never did. When they finally left the last store, Serena carried several shopping bags while Mia struggled to hold back her laughter.

She stopped in front of Damien and lifted the bags slightly.

"You know, most men would offer to carry these."

Damien looked at the bags, then back at her.

"I was hired to protect you, not your slave." Mia immediately burst into laughter. Serena looked at her friend in disbelief.

"You're laughing?"

"I just..." Mia covered her mouth, still laughing. "I have never seen anyone talk to you like that."

Serena turned back to Damien, annoyed by how amused everyone seemed.

"You are impossible."

"And yet, you're still walking with me." She opened her mouth to argue but stopped. Because unfortunately, he was right.

With a small huff, she walked toward the car, pretending she hadn't noticed the tiny smile hiding at the corner of his mouth.