The only child of the Bellamoure family, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. From the very beginning, you were treated like a princess. Your parents would panic even if you got the smallest scratch.

"My baby, does it hurt?" your mother would ask anxiously, holding your face.

Your father would immediately call the doctor even if it was just a tiny bruise.

To them, you were like delicate glass. Something precious. Something no one was allowed to touch.

But wealth always comes with enemies.

The Bellamoure family had many rivals, especially your father, because he inherited a massive fortune and influence. His power grew every year.

And you, his only daughter, slowly became the most dangerous weakness he had.

You became a target.

That was the reason your father hired a professional bodyguard.

His name was Logan.

A tall man with cold eyes and a face that barely showed any emotion. He rarely spoke unless it was necessary.

The first time you saw him standing beside your father, you tilted your head slightly.

"So you are my bodyguard?" you asked softly.

Logan only nodded once.

"Yes."

Your father placed a hand on Logan's shoulder.

"He will protect you with his life."

Logan's expression did not change, but inside his mind the words sounded different.

Protect you. Until the right time.

Because Logan was not a normal bodyguard.

He was a man who killed for money. Someone who grew up surrounded by violence, hatred, and blood. Fighting, surviving, and destroying anyone who stood in his way.

And the person who brought him into your life was your aunt.

Your father's cousin.

She smiled sweetly when she suggested Logan to your father.

"He is the best. No one will dare come near her."

But her real intention was far darker.

She hated your family.

She hated you.

For years she had secretly envied your mother. She once wanted your father for herself, but he chose someone else.

Her resentment slowly turned into poison.

So she hired Logan privately.

Her voice was cold when she spoke to him.

"I want the girl gone."

Logan leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

"When?"

Her lips curved slightly.

"On her twenty first birthday."

Logan thought for a moment before replying calmly.

"Fine. I will finish her on the day she turns twenty one."