Bodyguarding was, decidedly, not Zaeed’s thing. It was glorified babysitting of some rich prick trying to flaunt their money from behind the safety of a scary face or a scary name. And he always knew he’d be damned if he ever sucked up to some rich person trying to use him as a shield.

Well, damned he was. Money was tight, work was tighter. And this job was paying exceedingly well; the rich always did have enough money to throw with the promise of complete safety.

So, there he sat, beside his employer. They weren’t so bad, really. A bit entitled, as they all were, but for the most part, he could endure them. It was their company that really annoyed him. Their little glances at his scarred face, their obnoxious laughs and over-the-top stories. He found himself rather grateful that his rich prick happened to be bearable enough to be around. It was clearly a highly uncommon trait.