Chapter 2 Lila
Lila
My father is infuriating. I've done everything I can to get him to listen to me, and he's still insisting on a bodyguard and house arrest? Seriously?
"Ugh!" I throw my hands up, flopping face-first into my bed. I made it through dinner, still trying to get that man to listen to me, and nothing. "Just let me live my life!"
The words are muffled by the bed, and I can taste the fabric against my lips. I'm not going to be able to breathe like this, so I flop over, my stare going to the ceiling.
This is so stupid. Father won't even tell me why Cilento is doing this—vague nonsense about going after a company doing good in the world. He's hiding something from me.
My heart is beating too quickly, and I know I'm too worked up to sleep. I have little choice, however. I know that Dominick is outside.
Father's usual security guard is set to watch over me until that other guy arrives. He's hated having to split his personal guard between himself and me.
I've hated being watched like a damn hawk all the time. I can barely get a pee in without someone sticking their nose in.
Thoughts churn through my head like a whirling cotton candy machine. That's what I should be doing—out with the few friends I have from college.
A few of us stayed close after graduation, and going to the local arcade bar near campus is a tradition. It has fair-like games and food, and with it being summer, the back patio will be open.
I haven't gone since graduation.
For the past two years, I've been an intern at my father's company, where I've been forced to follow him around and "learn the business."
Except he doesn't really care if I learn anything. It's just supposed to appear that way. In reality, my future has already been decided.
And I hate every bit of it.
I'm supposed to get married to his actual protégé, Kyle Montgomery. He comes from a good family, and my father is friends with his.
They've all been conspiring to make this happen since we were kids. Kyle marries me, I pop out a few babies, and the Kendrix-Montgomery Dynasty is set to live long and prosper.
Except minus all the diversity and inclusion that Star Trek was known for. I haven't even seen a single episode, and they all look like better parents than mine at this point.
"This is stupid. Just go to bed."
I try to get comfortable again, snuggling into the plush fabrics of my bed now that I'm changed into my PJs.
I wish I could stay in them all day. I mean, I don't leave the house. Why bother getting dressed? My father would have a fit.
Sucking in a deep breath, I try to slow down, to finally fall asleep, but I'm utterly blindsided when the image that pops into my head isn't the usual target over my dad's face.
It's him, the guy I saw in my father's office earlier. And just like before, my body warms.
I remember his hazel eyes. I remember how they bore into me, penetrating and dark.
God, he was so different from what I expected, but also the same. Yes, he was tall and muscular and gave off every bit of the same "you will do as I say" vibes as my father, but...
He was also exceptionally attractive, with brown hair that was shaggy and unkempt on top, making him stand out from everyone in my life. He was rugged edges and sharp angles.
Hazel eyes peered out under dark brows, and a thin beard covered the bottom of his face, the dimple in his chin still visible. And jeez, he'd been so tall. At least a foot taller than I am.
There was something about him that made my cheeks burn, my thighs pressing together as I remembered the way his stare roamed over me in that brief moment.
I felt so seen, down to my bones and vulnerable. But he was a part of all this—just some hired man who was supposed to watch me and uphold every ridiculous rule my father created.
Hell, I don't even know the man's name. I imagine I'll be learning it tomorrow when he shows up for work.
A man who is being paid to watch me, to control me. Well, we'll see how much he regrets that choice. I'm not about to give up without a fight, and I've hardly begun to make both his and my father's lives hell.
Lila Kendrix will not be shepherded like some toddler. Absolutely not.
And maybe if that bodyguard decides to work with me, I can finally do something about this V-card I've been carrying around.
That'll put a damper on my father's plans for sure. Kyle wouldn't want to touch me after that. I could—
You aren't going to do anything because you know you wouldn't be able to bring yourself to do that.
Unfortunately, inner Lila is right. I haven't been able to get close to anyone like that, and not for lack of trying.
No one ever gets me. No one ever felt like they were worth the risk. And come on, that guy is supposed to be my bodyguard and is at least a decade older than me.
Off-limits, forbidden, do not pass go.
So, I just roll over. I need sleep if I'm going to put up with all this nonsense tomorrow.
I'm in the kitchen at the breakfast table with a caramel latte that I spent fifteen minutes making for myself. It's stupid, but the fancy steps and little touches make me feel like I'm doing something special for myself.
Something that doesn't happen beyond this singular cup of coffee.
I picked out the espresso, steamed the milk, made the perfect foam, and married it all together with some caramel drizzle and cinnamon on the top.
It's my treat. My one and only treat for the entire day.
Ding dong.
The doorbell chimes, and I know exactly what that means. Mr. Bodyguard is back.
It's the crack of ass, too. I've been up for like thirty whole minutes at this point, and I'm not sure if I'm emotionally ready to deal with him right now.
After a moment or two, Evans escorts the guy back to the kitchen, where I'm sitting with my drink, still wearing my pajamas with a robe slung over them.
I can feel his presence looming just a foot or so away from the breakfast table, but I refuse to look up.
"Ms. Lila, Mr. Griffin has arrived per your father's instructions. Should either of you require anything, please don't hesitate to ring me."
The sounds of Evans' footsteps let me know he's left, and I fight against the urge to glance at the man I now know is Mr. Griffin. While I still don't have a first name, all I can picture now is some half-bird, half-lion man glaring down at me.
"I'm still drinking my coffee, and then I'll be going for a run, so if you'd like to busy yourself with getting the layout of the house—"
"Your father was kind enough to send over the blueprints, and I'm fairly certain that he said you aren't to leave the grounds, so try nice."
Against my better judgment and everything I'd been silently screaming at myself, I shoot my stare to the absolute gem of a human who's going to be my babysitter for the foreseeable future.
And damn me to hell and back, but the man is somehow even more gorgeous than yesterday.
He's wearing dark jeans with a black tee pulled over his obvious muscles. A leather jacket is draped casually over his shoulder, hanging on his finger like a hook.
It doesn't help that he's smirking at me either. The stupid grin is lifted on one side, and his lips look soft, surrounded by the scruff of his trimmed beard.
"Are you really going to follow me around the house?" I glare, holding up my cup near my mouth almost like a shield. "That's going to get really old for both of us. My father is overreacting. Cilento is just doing this because he's trying to mess with my father. And he's—"
"He's paid me a good deal of money to do a job. So I intend to do it."
The asshole is just staring at me with that smug grin. It takes everything not to scream and run to my bedroom.
But I'm not letting him win that easily.
"Fine." I stand up from the breakfast table, suddenly very aware that my silk PJs probably do nothing to hide my figure. "But if you continue to interrupt me when I'm speaking, I might just think of something to mention to dear old dad about your misconduct."
Yes, it was an empty threat, but he didn't need to know that.
I tip my head back and work on finishing the last of my coffee—much quicker than I'd like, I might add.
When I finish, opening my eyes and lowering the mug, Mr. Griffin is right up in front of me, way too close for comfort.
"I think we both know how well that would go over, princess. So don't be a brat." His eyes flick to my mouth as I gape at him, utterly shocked by his words. "I'm happy to stand back and observe, but if you think about ditching me, someone's barreling toward a punishment."
What the hell did this guy actually just say? Am I losing my mind?
My body is on fire, my cheeks burning so hot that I know they're tinted pink. Everything feels too tight, and I can't help but get the idea that my new bodyguard quite likes the idea of getting me to obey him.
"How dare you. You will not speak to me that way, Mr. Griffin."
"It's Marcus." He has the audacity to just smile at me. "And I'll talk to you however I need to get my point across."
There's this pause between us, and I don't know what's happening. I know I need to walk away. I want to. At least...I think I do.
"I'm...I'm going for my run. You're welcome to try and keep up."
"I think I'll be fine, princess. Your little workout will be nothing compared to the military."
Ugh, that makes sense.
He gives off all the rigid bullshit of a drill sergeant. I roll my eyes, and quick as lightning, he snatches my chin and gets me to face him again so I can't leave.
"Don't roll your eyes at me." Marcus is hard as nails, but I don't feel afraid of him.
If anything, that control, that discipline, is doing something to my hindbrain that makes me want to listen to him, even if only a little bit.
"I've been given control of your schedule.
So, unless you want to be locked in your room the entire day, I'd knock it off. "
Something white-hot flares inside me, and even though I know it's not smart, even though I am very sure that this is precisely the type of move that's going to get a rise out of him, I can't stop myself.
"I'd like to see you try."
Immediately, I pull myself away and hurry toward the stairs. I'm not giving Marcus a second longer to think about what he wants to do about my little comment.
I am going for that run, and I need to get dressed.