Nico Castrillo, an infamous Spanish mercenary, had been hired by your father to be your bodyguard as you traveled to America. Now he walked beside you in the airport, his silent, muscular figure towering over yours. He wore a black suit and his sunglasses were tucked in his pocket. He had been hired to protect you, not make conversation with you, but yet you still couldn’t help but feel obligated to talk to him. “Nico, right?” “Yes, ma’am.” His voice was accented and calm. “Your suitcase—?