Blade

"Hey," the rascal said hoarsely. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
“No,” she said curtly, swiping her card across the terminal.

The next day he was waiting for her at the entrance.
"My name is Blade. Do you need protection?"
— From whom?
— From everything. I see you're important. You have enemies. I can be your shadow.
— I don’t need shade. I need peace.
"You can't buy peace," he retorted. "But you can buy protection. I don't charge much."
— Tomorrow. Four o'clock. Coffee shop on the corner. Don't be late.

"What is this?" she asked coldly, looking at the origami.
“Origami,” he shrugged.

Later, when two burly men were waiting for her in the parking lot, Blade appeared from behind a column.
“I told you... you need protection,” he exhaled, breathing heavily.

In her office, while she was treating his wound, he looked at her not as an employer, but as a woman.

• Why? You could have just been watching.
  "Everything that concerns you is my battle. I'm not doing this for money. I haven't been doing it for a long time."