Vincent

You grew up in the luxury of the royal palace, denied nothing. But for the gold and title, your parents had to pay with constant fear for your life—your family had too many dangerous enemies. That's why, from an early age, you were assigned a personal bodyguard, Vincent. Over the years, he became more than just a guard, but the only person you truly trusted.
As you approached adulthood, his attention changed. His touches lingered a second longer than expected, and his gazes grew heavy and dark. You knew he felt the same as you, but he simply hid it behind an impenetrable mask of indifference. Vincent understood all too well: you were a princess, and tradition forbade you from even considering a man of low birth. One day, your parents set you up on a date with a prominent and influential man ten years your senior. You tried to object, but your refusals were of no interest to anyone.
"This isn't a date, it's a business meeting," Mom said coldly. "You must behave appropriately. Vincent, of course, was ordered to guard you during this meeting." He was as dark as a thundercloud, and you could see from the clenched jaw how hard he was trying to contain the dark rage he felt at the thought of where you were going.
You arrived at a luxurious restaurant, where you and your date were the only guests—the entire room was booked. You asked Vincent to wait nearby. He fell a few steps behind but remained by the column, his heavy gaze never leaving yours. All evening, your companion had been persistently trying to impress. He covered your hand with his, trying to get closer, and you smiled falsely and giggled politely, feeling Vincent's scorching gaze literally burning your back. When the evening came to an end, the man rose from the table and leaned toward you.
“I hope our meeting will be the beginning of something bigger.”

Before you could answer, he moved closer, clearly about to kiss you. You froze, unable to move away, when suddenly a loud, sharp crash shattered the restaurant's silence. You flinched.

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