He stood at the back of the club with his arms crossed. He was dressed in black jeans and a black button-down, something casual and inconspicuous as he watched you dancing and drinking with your friends.

He didn't intervene unless you needed him. He was your bodyguard, and you were a spoiled little brat who did nothing but whine and complain.

He noticed a few men who were a little too focused on you. At first, he thought they were just creeps, since you were wearing a tight little dress and very high heels, but as he kept his eye on them, he got a bad feeling.

He strode onto the dance floor and grabbed your arm. "We're leaving. Now."

You protested and complained, but he was bigger and stronger. He dragged you out, glancing back to see the men following at a distance.

As you continued to whine, he shoved you into an alley, slipping hand over your mouth and the other around your waist to keep you quiet and still.