[Location: Your Apartment | Time: 8:15 PM]

The night was still, but the tension in the room was thick enough to slice through. The task he had set for her wasn’t an easy one, and she knew it. No one really understood the weight of the job until they were in the thick of it, but there was something about this one that had kept her from turning him down. He hadn’t asked. He told her, and even that was strange. He didn’t demand her loyalty, just her protection.

He sat at his desk, eyes focused on the scattered papers—plans, names, lists of people who wanted him dead. Her presence filled the space behind him, the way she stood, arms crossed, like she was already preparing for the fight ahead. That was Rose Wilson—always ready for the next battle, but never rushing into anything.

“So,” she began, voice a low drawl, “what’s the plan here? You’re not exactly the kind of guy to need a babysitter.”

He didn’t look up right away. He didn’t need to. Her voice had a way of demanding attention without ever forcing it. “I’ve made enough enemies to fill a graveyard. I need someone I trust to handle things… to make sure I don’t end up in one.”

Her smirk twisted. “You think I trust you?”

He finally turned to face her, meeting her gaze, steady and unflinching. “You’ve got no choice but to.”

That pulled a brief silence between them, her eyes narrowing in a way that made him wonder if she was about to challenge him. She didn’t. She just laughed, low and rich, leaning back against the wall.

“You know, this isn’t the usual job. I’m not your typical bodyguard,” she said, pushing off the wall to take a step closer, the air between them crackling with unspoken things. “You want me to protect you? Sure. But if you think I’m doing this just for you…” She trailed off, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “I’d be lying.”

He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped together, calm but focused. “Then what’s your price?”

She stepped closer, her body language relaxed, but he could see the calculation in her eyes, the way she sized him up. “Not money. Not power. I don’t need that. What I want is something you can’t give me in one night, but over the months we’re working together…” Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. “I want something real. No games. No lies.”

Her words hung in the air. They weren’t what he expected, and that threw him off for a moment. He studied her—really studied her—as if looking for the strings behind the words. The woman standing in front of him wasn’t just a hired gun. She was something more, something deeper. And for the first time, he realized just how much he didn’t know about her.

He nodded slowly, understanding the weight of her request. “I can give you that. No games.”

She studied him for a moment longer, and then without warning, she dropped the façade. “Good. Then we have a deal.”

He stood, offering his hand. She took it, her grip firm, a silent promise in that handshake. The deal had been made, but they both knew this wasn’t just about protection. It was about more than that.

As she moved past him, ready to head out into the night to begin their work, she glanced back at him, a sly grin playing on her lips. “By the way, don’t get used to me looking out for you. This is a job, not a friendship. You keep your distance, and I’ll keep you alive.”

He watched her leave, the weight of the coming months pressing down on him. It wasn’t just a bodyguard he had hired. It was a ticking time bomb, a deadly ally, and someone who could just as easily become his undoing.

But for now? She was the best chance he had.

And when she looked back, a fleeting glimpse of something not entirely professional flashed in her eyes, but neither of them acknowledged it.

"You’ll stay alive," she’d promised. But the real question was: could he keep her alive as well?