Sneak Peek Protecting What’s Mine （Chapter 1）
Ranger
The blue water of the Ocean waves at me as I stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the Maddox Security conference room, waiting impatiently for the guys I work with to arrive for our monthly meeting. The room is perched high above the bustling streets of downtown Saint Pierce, offering a panoramic view of the city and the vast ocean beyond. Dean Maddox owns the entire twentieth floor of this sleek sky rise, a testament to his immense wealth and success. The view is stunning, but my attention is on the ticking clock. Wealth can’t buy timeliness, and I’m not a man who likes to be kept waiting.
Dean is very particular about keeping a schedule, and so am I. Punctuality is a virtue in our line of work, where precision and timing can mean the difference between success and failure. My patience wears thin as I tap my fingers on the polished mahogany table, the rhythmic sound echoing in the spacious, modern room. The walls are adorned with abstract art, each piece meticulously chosen to reflect the power and prestige of our company.
I glance at my watch for the third time in five minutes, the ticking seconds feeling like an eternity. The soft hum of the air conditioning does little to soothe my growing frustration. My thoughts drift between the serene ocean outside and the urgency of the tasks that lie ahead. Each delay feels like a wasted opportunity, a potential threat to the seamless operation of our business.
The door finally creaks open, and Lincoln trickles in, his casual demeanor clashing with the urgency I feel. I suppress a sigh and straighten in my chair, ready to dive into the agenda. Dean strides in after him, his presence commanding the room. He takes his seat at the head of the table.
"What’s taking so long?” I ask, resting my forearms on the glossy, polished conference room table, its surface so reflective I can almost see my own impatience staring back at me.
The room is large, too large, for a group of six men. The high ceilings and expansive floor space amplify the emptiness. Dean once said it takes this much space to hold all our personalities, and I guess that’s true. The sleek, modern design, with its minimalist furniture and strategic lighting, feels almost too perfect, too sterile.
Lincoln, the only other one here besides our boss, Dean, glances at the world time clock on the wall, its multiple faces displaying times from London to Tokyo. “They’re only two minutes late.”
“But still late,” I say, arching a brow and feeling the familiar annoyance prickling at the edge of my patience.
“The guys are on their way up,” Dean says from his seat at the head of the table. He sits with an air of authority, his eyes flicking to the wall of televisions surveilling every nook and cranny of the building. Each screen shows a different angle, capturing the continuous activity within our fortress. “Patience is a virtue, Ranger.”
I lean back, stretching my legs under the table, and cross my boots at the ankle. The chair creaks slightly, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. “Mhm. I’ve been told,” I mutter, my tone a mix of resignation and stubbornness. My eyes wander back to the ocean view, trying to find solace in its endless expanse.
The silence stretches on, the weight of our anticipation palpable. Every second feels like an eternity, each tick of the clock a reminder of the punctuality I value. The doors will open soon, and the others will filter in, bringing with them the dynamic energy that defines our meetings. Until then, I wait, my impatience simmering just beneath the surface.
I've known Dean for years, worked here for years as well, so he knows I’m just busting his balls. We go way back, our camaraderie forged in the heat of intense situations. With a military background, it was only right that I joined his team as a security specialist after I retired. Maddox Security is one of the largest security companies in the world. I use the term ‘security’ lightly because sometimes we’re asked to do more than protect; sometimes, we’re enforcers, investigators, and even rescuers.
The hours are great. The work is always busy, with no two days ever the same. And I like the men I work with… even if they’re late. They’re like family to me. I don’t have a lot of it, so I appreciate them. I’m the type of man who keeps his circle small, preferring quality over quantity. When you do what we do, you surround yourself with people you can trust implicitly.
Lincoln’s blue eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head with a wry smile. He’s a quiet guy, for the most part, always sitting back, watching instead of speaking. He’s got a way of assessing a situation with just a glance, a skill that’s saved our asses more than once.
Unlike Boone.
Speak of the devil. He’s next to arrive. Boone defines mountain man—burly and bearded, with a presence that fills the room. His steps are heavy and purposeful, and he exudes a raw, unfiltered strength. He does outstanding work, the kind you can always rely on when things get tough.
We’ve all got our strengths, so I see why Dean has all of us on his payroll. Each of us brings something unique to the table, creating a balanced, formidable team.
“I’m here, the meeting can begin now,” Boone jokes, his deep voice rumbling through the room. He scrubs a hand over his beard as he takes a seat and casts his brown eyes over at me. “Heard about your sister.”
I nod. “It’s fine.”
It’s really not fine. She was in love with a man she thought she trusted, but he turned out to be somebody he wasn’t. The betrayal hit hard, leaving her heartbroken and me seething with a protective anger. We’ve always looked out for each other, and seeing her hurt cuts deeper than any wound I’ve ever had in combat.
“If you need me to knock out a motherfucker out, just say the word,” Boone offers, his voice tinged with a mix of seriousness and dark humor.
I grin. “I’ll let you know.”
I already asked Greta if I could pummel him with my fist when she caught him cheating on her, but she said no. But she didn’t say Boone couldn’t. Greta is a non-confrontational woman, always looking to avoid conflict. Me, I love confrontation. Sometimes, people say I seek it out. And they might be right. There's something about the rush of adrenaline and the clear-cut resolution that appeals to me.
Lincoln turns toward us, his curiosity piqued. “Knock who out?”
While Lincoln, Dean, and Boone listen intently, I explain the story of my sister finding her guy tied to their bed with his assistant riding him like a cowgirl. The vivid image of betrayal is still fresh in my mind, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
“Damn,” Boone says, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s pretty harsh. She wore Greta’s cowboy boots?”
“Yep. And Greta’s been devastated ever since she kicked him out. I tried to warn her not to get wrapped up in the love bullshit.”
“Love isn’t all bad,” Dean says with a slight lift of his lips, his tone softening.
He’s the exception to the rule. There’s no denying the happiness in his silvery eyes. He met his girl, Sophia, on a job, and she’s been smitten with him ever since. The way he talks about her, the way his eyes light up, you can tell she’s changed his world.
“I’m surprised you’re even here today,” Boone says to Dean with a smirk. “I thought that’s why your sister was helping run things so you could traipse around the globe, holding hands with Sophia.”
Dean doesn’t bat an eye at his teasing. “Isabel’s doing a terrific job, but I wanted to hand out today’s assignments.” He smooths a hand down his red tie and winks. “Sophia will get a reward later for our time apart.”
The waves outside catch my attention, the rhythmic motion soothing in a way the chaos of our lives rarely allows. Dean launches into the sordid tale of his happily ever after, recounting the details with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. I already know how they pretended to be married to enter the world of Humphrey Hollingsworth, infiltrating the circles of one of the most notorious men we’ve ever encountered. I’ve heard of Henry’s late-night parties and the lascivious activities that take place. Not my scene. Not Dean’s scene either, so I know it must have been a shock to bring along a woman he barely knew.
As Dean talks, I find myself half-listening, my thoughts drifting back to Greta and the mess she’s in. Love may not be all bad, as Dean claims, but it sure as hell isn’t easy. And sometimes, it’s downright painful.
“Actually, it goes along the same lines as the job I’m giving Asher today.” Dean shuffles through the papers on the cherry wood table, the rustling sound adding to the anticipation in the room.
The door opens, and Orion Steele walks in with a deep frown etched on his face. I’ve known Orion for years, and he’s been an angry bastard the entire time. His presence is imposing, with his tall, muscular frame and perpetually brooding expression.
“Why do you have the meetings so early in the morning?” His dark eyes appear tired, shadows under them suggesting a lack of sleep.
“It’s nine a.m. I wouldn’t call that early,” Dean says, his tone firm yet understanding.
Orion slides his tall body into a chair with a heavy sigh, his movements slow and deliberate.
“Someone had a rough night,” Boone comments, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Orion only grunts in response, a typical reaction for him when he’s not in the mood to engage.
Asher is the last to arrive. He’s younger than the rest of us, fresh-faced and eager to prove himself. As the newest employee on the team, he’s still learning the ropes but shows a lot of promise. He rushes into a seat and stares at Dean, waiting for the meeting to begin, his eyes wide with anticipation.
“Thanks for being here,” Dean begins, his voice carrying a tone of gratitude. “I know the past couple of months have been tough with me searching for Bishop. I’d like to thank all of you for the hand you played in finding him.” He shuffles through the papers in front of him once more. “Hopefully, we can finally have some peace.”
I nod, knowing although I wasn’t much help in taking down Bishop, I helped keep things running smoothly for Maddox Security. It was a team effort, and every role played was crucial.
“I know Isabel has been helping a ton, and I’m lucky to have such an awesome sister,” Dean says, his voice softening with pride. Lincoln and Dean share a look before Dean continues, “I have some assignments that need urgent attention, and I wanted to hand out each one personally.”
I shift in my seat, always leery about what assignment he’ll toss my way. The unknown can be as exciting as it is daunting.
“Ranger, I’ll start with you first. The G-Summit Meeting is soon, and this is Tory Ann,” he says, handing me a file. “She’s yours to protect.”
I take the file, flipping it open to see a picture of a young woman with striking features and a poised demeanor. Tory Ann. The name alone suggests she’s someone of importance, likely a high-profile figure attending the summit.
Dean’s gaze meets mine, his expression serious. “This assignment is critical. The G-Summit attracts a lot of attention, and not all of it good. Your job is to ensure her safety at all times.”
I nod, the weight of the responsibility settling in. Protecting someone at a high-profile event like the G-Summit requires precision, vigilance, and a keen sense of awareness.
I open the folder and stare into the wild blue eyes of the blonde woman in the photo. “Is she attending the summit?”
Dean shakes his head, his gray eyes meeting mine with a serious gaze. “No, she isn’t. Her father is Fredrick Malser, a world-renowned scientist. He’ll be a keynote speaker and will have his own personal security watching over him.”
“Why not have his security watch over his daughter?”
Dean leans back in his chair, fingers tapping thoughtfully on the polished surface of the table. “Frederick has received death threats about speaking at the Summit, and he doesn’t trust some members of his own security detail. He wants his daughter kept under the radar. We need to ensure her safety without attracting attention.”
I glance at the photo again as Dean continues giving me instructions. Tory Ann’s expression in the picture is composed, her features betraying none of the potential danger surrounding her. “You’ll take her to the safe house near the ocean and hold her until the Summit is over.”
I scan Tory Ann’s details, noting she’s studying to be a scientist, following in her father’s footsteps. This should be a straightforward job. “Sounds good.”
Dean’s focus shifts to Orion, who sits with a brooding expression. “Orion, you’ve got the daughter of socialite Minnie Green. She’s got an ex-boyfriend stalking her, and her mother wants security to follow her to-and-from work.”
“Ex-boyfriend?” Orion scoffs, his voice carrying a hint of restrained anger. “Can’t I just scare the shit out of him, make him think twice, and call it a day?”
Dean hands a folder to Orion, his expression stern. “It’s not that simple. We need to ensure she’s safe without escalating the situation.”
Orion opens the folder, his eyes narrowing as he studies the contents. He sucks in a breath before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. “It never is.” He fixates a little longer on the picture inside his folder, his jaw clenched with determination.
“Lincoln already has his assignment,” Dean states, his voice steady and commanding. They share another look, a silent communication that speaks volumes. It must be some hush-hush undercover operation or something equally critical.
“Boone, here’s your assignment.” Dean hands a file to Boone. “I briefed you on it last week.”
Boone opens the file, his brows furrowing slightly as he studies the contents. “Wow,” he mutters under his breath. “Who’s this?”
“Name’s Aubree Ryan, and she’s got a stalker too. We’re still in the dark about the identity, but she needs to get out of Nashville.”
Boone nods decisively. “I’ll take her to my cabin nearby. It’s remote, secure.”
I focus back on the file in my hand while Dean continues, detailing Asher’s assignment of pretending to be engaged to the woman he’s protecting. As I stare into the blue eyes of Tory Ann in her photograph, I’m struck by her striking beauty, a stark contrast to the dangers that surround her. Questions swirl in my mind.
Why did her father bring her to Saint Pierce? Why not leave her at home while he attends the Summit Meeting?
“I want everyone to know I’m here if you need anything,” Dean says, snapping me back to the present moment.
We all grunt our acknowledgement, each absorbed in our thoughts and tasks. My assignment seems straightforward, and I don’t anticipate serious complications. What concerns me most is her beauty and the unexpected attraction I feel toward her photo. But I never mix business and pleasure. In fact, it’s been a long time since I mixed anything and pleasure together. Love is a risk I refuse to take. Can you blame me? Dean is the exception in my world, the only one who has found lasting happiness. My parents, my sister, my friends—they’ve all stumbled in the realm of love, and I’m not willing to gamble.
I hate risk.
My approach is always calculated, every move measured. So despite Tory Ann’s allure, I won’t let temptation cloud my judgment. Babysitting her for a month should be straightforward, albeit challenging in its own ways.
We file out of the room, except for Asher, whom Dean asks to stay behind for further instructions.
“We all need to catch up soon,” Boone says in the lobby, his voice echoing in the spacious corridor. “It was fun last time. Maybe once I’m done protecting this girl from her ex, we can have a guy’s poker night.”
It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve hung out with the guys, and Boone’s suggestion resonates. “I’m down with that,” I chime in, a smile tugging at my lips.
They all laugh. They remember who won all the money last time.
Me.
“What’s so funny? I’d love some more free money,” I quip.
“No, I’m not playing poker with this guy again,” Lincoln says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Besides, I don’t know when I’ll be free, because my job isn’t an easy one.”
I slap Lincoln on the shoulder playfully. “I figured when Dean pulled you aside before everyone else, it was something serious.”
Lincoln sighs, a shadow crossing his features. “It’s Isabel. She’s been receiving threats.”
“Who’s behind it?” Boone asks, his tone now serious.
Lincoln shrugs, frustration evident. “Not sure yet. Dean has some leads. I’m just supposed to keep Isabel safe while he investigates.”
“Good luck with that. She can’t be too thrilled about being watched,” Orion comments, his expression sympathetic.
At that moment, the distinctive sound of Isabel Maddox’s heels clicking down the tiled hallway interrupts our conversation. We glance at each other and scatter toward the elevator, leaving Lincoln to deal with Isabel on his own.
“I’m out of here,” I announce to no one in particular as I press the elevator button, its soft ding announcing its arrival. “I’ve got a beauty to protect.”
As I step into the elevator, my thoughts drift back to Tory Ann and the task ahead. The responsibility feels weighty, yet I'm confident in my ability to handle it. Protecting someone like her requires more than physical security; it demands vigilance, intuition, and a steady hand. I adjust my jacket, steeling myself for the challenges ahead while silently hoping that Lincoln will navigate his own challenges with Isabel smoothly.