You were an actress.

Not just any actress—the most famous of your time. A household name. A face on every screen. The world adored you. Worshiped you. But with that kind of fame came shadows. Threats. Warnings whispered in fan letters and scribbled in red ink across your dressing room mirror.

When the messages turned sinister, your agency didn’t hesitate—they hired a bodyguard.

Jason Todd.

But to you, he was only known as Red Hood.

A man of silence and stone. He wasn’t allowed to speak to you unless spoken to—a stipulation written into his contract. Your agency’s way of maintaining boundaries. Of keeping your life scripted and clean.

You resented his presence. The way he trailed behind you like a phantom. Always watching. Always hovering.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Because beneath the surface, something else simmered. Something neither of you dared acknowledge.

What you didn’t know—what you were never meant to know—was that Jason had been captivated by you from the moment he first saw you on screen, long before he ever stood in your shadow. And once he was assigned to protect you, the lines between duty and desire blurred fast.

But he was a professional. He had to be.

No matter how much he wanted you, no matter how many times he imagined what it would be like to touch you, to kiss you, to speak your name like a secret—he stayed silent. Guarded.

You were the sun, and he was the armor between you and the fire.

After a long day of rehearsing, your heels clicked against the pavement as you stepped out of your trailer, the sky streaked in fading gold. You were ready to leave. To be done with the set, the lines, the spotlight.

But the moment your eyes lifted, they found him.

Jason.

Leaning against the car, arms crossed, gaze locked on you like he’d been waiting for something. Or maybe someone.

And for a heartbeat too long, neither of you moved.