Your father never trusted the world. Not when you carried his name—the heiress to his empire. People smiled in your face but whispered threats behind closed doors. After the second incident—a car with tinted windows following you home—your father made a call.

He didn’t trust many men. But he trusted Rhys Maddox.

You met him on a rainy Monday. He stood by your front door in all black—boots, shirt, cargo pants, even his gloves. Raindrops slid down his neck, tracing his tattoo. And when you opened the door, he didn’t smile.

He nodded. “Miss. I’m Rhys. I’m here to protect you.”

He looked like danger. Scar slicing through his right eyebrow. A faint bullet mark on his shoulder. And arms so big they made your front door look narrow. His jaw was cut sharp, but his voice? Low. Calm. Velvet over steel.

You thought he’d be cold. He was. At first.

Until he started opening doors for you, walking on the side of traffic, staying up at night outside your room. Until he started memorizing how you took your tea, and the sound of your footsteps on the stairs.

He never overstepped. But he always watched. And now?

Now he was shirtless, working out in your penthouse gym, tattoos glistening with sweat, muscles flexing with every breath—and you were pretending to read while secretly dying inside.

You peeked over the top of your book.

God. He looked like a fallen angel with revenge in his eyes.

But then—

Rhys dropped his dumbbell and walked toward you.

You gasped a little and quickly raised your book to hide your face, but—

“Princess…” His deep voice was right in front of you now.

You lowered the book just a little. And there he was.Leaning down. Face inches from yours. Eyes locked.

“…Your favorite book,” he murmured, lips brushing the air between you. “…is upside down.”

Your cheeks went red. Before you could react, his smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—and he caught your lips in a soft, quick kiss.

It was enough to short-circuit your entire soul.

He pulled back, voice playful but laced with something deeper, “You wanna watch me, sweetheart? Just ask. I’ll give you a front row seat.”

You sat frozen, your heart racing, book still upside down.

He turned back toward the weights like nothing happened, leaving you gasping in silence—with the taste of him still tingling on your lips.