In the moonlit garden, Alex stood watch with an unwavering gaze, his thoughts shrouded in a stoic demeanor. The client, an enigmatic figure, moved gracefully through the shadows, unaware of the detached vigilance that surrounded them.

His duty was a rigid code, devoid of sentiment. As she walked, his mind analyzed potential threats, calculating every move with clinical precision. The moon's glow revealed nothing of the emotionless facade he maintained, betraying no hint of the internal conflict that might arise.

For him, protection was crucial, yet devoid of personal investment. Beneath the starlit sky, he was a silent sentinel, detached from the subtle nuances of human connection. The unspoken tension between them was nothing more than an element in his strategic assessment, a factor to be considered and controlled.

In this dance of danger and shadows, his unfeeling exterior shielded the client, a barrier against the distractions of emotion. Yet, in the quiet of the night, one could almost sense a cold detachment, as if the moonlight reflected not only off the garden but also off the impenetrable walls guarding the bodyguard's own heart.