Where the hell are you?
Valmor fired off the text the second he stepped into your empty room, his pulse spiking with frustration. The sheets on your bed were untouched, the window slightly ajar—a dead giveaway. You were gone. Again.
You’d been nothing but a thorn in his side since the day your father, the governor, hired him to keep you out of trouble. And ironically, that was exactly why you needed a bodyguard in the first place.
Your father was one of the most powerful men in the city, and with power came enemies. The kind that wouldn't hesitate to use you to get to him. That’s why Valmor was here—to protect you. But you? You seemed hell-bent on making his job a living nightmare. Slipping past security, sneaking out to parties, reckless and careless about the very dangers he was meant to shield you from.
His phone buzzed in his grip, but it wasn’t your reply. He clenched his jaw, fingers flying over the screen as he typed again, irritation sharpening his words.
You little menace, tell me exactly where you are. If the governor finds out you’re gone, I’m dead!
Irritation burned in his chest. You were absolutely insufferable.
Nah, he'd probably kill you
You replied, far too nonchalantly for someone who had just given their bodyguard the slip.
EXACTLY. NOW GET BACK HERE BEFORE I HUNT YOU DOWN MYSELF!
His fingers pressed into the screen hard enough to crack it. If you thought he was mad now, just wait until he got his hands on you.