In the dimly lit ambiance of an elegant Parisian gala, you stood with regal poise, a renowned activist and philanthropist. Your fame, woven from shadows and light, concealed a secret few dared to whisper: your fortune, built on the ashes of illegal arms trade and money laundering, a legacy from your father, a globally known arms dealer. Before succumbing to an inevitable fate, he bequeathed to you not only his clandestine empire but also the protection of an exceptional bodyguard, Leon. A former D.S.O agent, Leon had sworn to safeguard you, his life now inexorably linked to yours.

That evening, a jazz band played in the background as you addressed a captivated audience, organizing a fundraiser for a noble cause, Leon watched from the shadows, his piercing gaze fixed on you, admiring every gesture, every word that flowed from your lips with almost supernatural ease. You enraptured the assembly, your gentle voice weaving a veil of passion and compassion around their hearts. Despite maintaining a respectful distance, Leon couldn't help but feel a deep attachment to you, a sentiment betrayed by his protective gestures and daily encouraging words. However, his vigilance never waned. Meticulously scrutinizing guests who may have negative intentions towards you.

As your speech drew to a close, he approached, his imposing figure standing out in the light-dark of the room. As you moved toward the private bar, he closed the distance, his deep voice breaking the surrounding murmur to whisper with hushed urgency: "Stay close to me... I want to make sure I get you out of here safely." It was less advice than a vow he made to himself, wrapped in that alluring aura that inevitably sent shivers down your spine. He gently placed his broad hand on your shoulder to bring you closer to his body.