Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Grace
I walked into the sleek glass-walled office of Titan Security, already dreading whatever conversation was about to happen.
The firm was buzzing with early morning energy—phones ringing, agents in dark suits moving briskly, and the distant sound of tactical training drills echoing from the private sector.
I had barely dropped into my chair when Elliot Greene, my boss and one of the firm’s senior executives, strode into the conference room with a thick file in hand. That was never a good sign.
"Grace," he greeted, taking a seat across from me. "Straight to business. We have a high-profile client, and I want you on it."
I adjusted my posture, keeping my expression neutral. "I don’t do celebrity security, Elliot. You know that."
He leaned back, resting his elbows on the armrests. "You’re going to want to reconsider."
I arched an eyebrow. "Doubt it."
He sighed and slid the file across the table. "Dominic Beethoven. Lead singer of DreamCrest."
I didn’t even bother looking down. I already knew the name. Olivia had spent the last five years treating him like he was some kind of deity.
"Pass," I said flatly, pushing the file back toward him.
Elliot didn’t even blink. "We’re offering triple your usual rate."
That made me pause. Triple? That was a hell of a lot of money. More than enough to cover Olivia’s next few years of tuition. But it wasn’t worth the headache of dealing with some arrogant, entitled pop star who thought he was invincible.
"Still not interested," I said, keeping my voice even. "I don’t babysit rich boys with inflated egos."
Elliot exhaled sharply, clearly expecting my resistance. "This isn’t just about some paranoid pop star. His security team is concerned for a reason. There have been serious breaches. Someone got inside his penthouse. Left a note on his pillow."
That got my attention.
I sat back, crossing my arms. "So, you need a glorified babysitter because his security team can’t do their job?"
"We need someone who can handle high-risk situations. Someone who can think like a threat. That’s you."
I shook my head. "You have plenty of other agents for this."
Elliot’s expression hardened. "It’s you, or you can walk."
I stilled.
He wasn’t bluffing.
Titan Security had plenty of high-profile clients, and I was one of their top agents. But refusing an assignment like this—one that came straight from upper management—would make me look replaceable. And replaReplaceableidn’t last long in firms like this.
He let the silence stretch between us before adding, "Look, I get it. Celebrities aren’t your thing. But this contract isn’t just about him. It’s about keeping our firm’s reputation intact. If you turn this down, it won’t just be this job you lose. It’ll be future contracts too."
That was a low blow.
I clenched my jaw, glancing at the file I had pushed away.
I didn’t want this job. I didn’t want to spend my days shadowing some pop star who was used to having the world worship at his feet.
But I couldn’t afford to lose my standing at the firm.
And I definitely couldn’t afford to lose the paycheck that came with it.
I exhaled slowly. "I’ll meet him. But I’m not committing."
Elliot smirked. "You’ll commit."
I shot him a warning look before grabbing the file and standing. "We’ll see."
By the time I arrived at DreamCrest’s penthouse later that afternoon, I was already annoyed. The building was a fortress, with high-end security, multiple checkpoints, and a private elevator that required biometric access. I had seen government buildings with fewer protocols.
A guard escorted me to the top floor, where sleek black marble floors reflected the skyline from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything screamed wealth, excess, and status.
I hated it.
The guard led me to a massive lounge area, where a man sat casually on a plush leather couch, one arm draped over the backrest. Dominic Beethoven.
He was nothing like the shallow, polished celebrity I had expected.
His golden-blond hair was slightly tousled as if he had run his fingers through it absentmindedly. His sharp blue eyes flicked up from the drink in his hand the moment I entered, scanning me with a slow, almost lazy assessment. But there was nothing lazy about the way he observed.
I had spent years reading people—analyzing microexpressions, detecting threats, identifyiand ng weaknesses. But in that matent, I had the unsettling feeling that he was doing the same to me.
His lips curved into a smirk. "Well, well. The infamous Grace Dauntless. The woman who doesn’t take orders from anyone."
I stopped a few feet away, keeping my posture firm. "I don’t take orders from spoiled celebrities, that’s for sure."
His smirk widened, amusement flickering in his eyes. "And yet, here you are."
I ignored the provocation and crossed my arms. "Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t play the part of a lapdog. If I take this job, I make the rules. If you don’t follow them, I walk."
Dominic leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That’s cute."
I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"You thinking you’re the one who sets the rules," he said, swirling the dark liquid in his glass.
I kept my expression neutral, but irritation flickered under my skin. "Your security team wants protection. That means you listen to me. This isn’t a negotiation."
His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "Everything is a negotiation."
I exhaled sharply. "Look, I don’t care about your fame, your money, or whatever power trip you’re on. I’m here because your team thinks you need protection. If you don’t, I’ll walk out that door, and you can deal with your problem on your own."
Dominic tilted his head, watching me with that same infuriating smirk. "You’re not what I expected."
"Good," I said flatly.
"Most people come in here starstruck. You don’t even look impressed."
"Because I’m not."
He chuckled, low and deep. "I like you."
I clenched my jaw. "I don’t care."
That only made his smirk widen.
I was going to hate this job.
Before I could say anything else, another voice cut in. "Dom, stop messing with her."
I turned to see Ezra Carter, DreamCrest’s resident bad boy, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He wore a leather jacket indoors, sunglasses pushed up onto his head. He had the air of someone who thrived on chaos.
"She’s just getting warmed up," Dominic mused.
Ezra shook his head. "She’s gonna deck you before this contract even starts."
I sighed, already regretting agreeing to this meeting. "Are we done?"
Dominic set his glass down and stood, stepping closer. I held my ground.
"You don’t like me," he said smoothly.
"I don’t need to like you to do my job."
He studied me for a beat, then nodded. "Good."
I turned on my heel and headed toward the exit.
"You’ll take the job," Dominic called after me.
I didn’t look back. "We’ll see about that."
The moment I stepped into the elevator, I exhaled, releasing the tension that had been building since I arrived.
Something about Dominic Beethoven was dangerous.
Not in the way I had expected. Not because he was reckless or entitled.
But because he was watching. Calculating. Waiting.
And I hated that I could already feel him getting under my skin.
I should’ve never taken this job.