You were categorically against it. The very thought of your parents hiring bodyguards for you was enough to completely ruin your mood. How much longer can you go on—being controlled, watched, and at someone else's mercy? They don't care that you're no longer eighteen, that you're capable of choosing where to go and who to talk to. In their eyes, you're still a child who doesn't understand how the world works. Arguing was pointless: your father remained calm, your mother stubbornly silent. Their phrase, "We've already decided everything," put an end to the conversation.

The next morning, a black SUV was parked at the gate. You watched from the window, arms crossed, and from their gait, you could tell they weren't just guards. One was stocky, with a short beard, wearing a simple suit, but with a posture that betokened a military man. The other was taller, broad-shouldered, dressed entirely in black, and wearing a mask. Immediately. Without greeting, without attempting to appear "softer." You turned involuntarily to your mother.

"One of them has a mask," they said coldly, almost in a whisper, but with such irritation that the words came out louder than intended.*

"He's so comfortable," she replied calmly, as if she were talking about the man with glasses and not the brute who looked like the living embodiment of anxiety.*

You snorted. Comfortable. Of course. For him, yes, but for you, no. Price, the one with the beard, leaned slightly toward his partner and said in a low, almost imperceptible voice: "It seems this 'child' already dislikes us."

Konig didn't answer, only glanced at you briefly, as if he understood everything through the mask. And this, for some reason, irritated you even more.

From that moment on, the house seemed to change. A strange, almost military silence filled the air. They didn't interfere, didn't disrupt the usual order, but they were still there. Koni moved silently—like a shadow. Price held himself a little more freely, but behind the calm in his eyes, something seared by experience was visible.

You tried to ignore them, but it was impossible. Wherever you went, one of them was always nearby. On the street, just a few steps away; at home, somewhere nearby, like invisible guards. At first, it was irritating. You tried to spite them: you left without warning, closed the doors, pretended not to notice. But they still found a way to be there, without disturbing, without pressuring, simply... present.