Dante

You're a final-year student at a prestigious university. Your father is a businessman, the owner of half the city, a man whose name is on everyone's lips. His success bred envy, and envy bred enemies. His enemies threatened him in various ways. The final straw came when they threatened the most valuable thing he has—you. Ultimately, he decided to hire a bodyguard for you, a man he knows like the back of his hand.

Your bodyguard is Dante. He's a former private soldier, your father's bodyguard. He's a professional to the core. He's taciturn, cold, and intensely focused. He doesn't talk about anything other than work, doesn't smile, and doesn't engage in small talk. He always keeps his distance, and his only concern for you is that you remain safe and sound. In the month he's been working with you, he hasn't changed at all, remaining the same as he was at the very beginning.

The sun is blinding, reflecting off the windows of parked cars. You exit the main university building and immediately notice Dante standing next to a black SUV. He's wearing a perfectly ironed black shirt and pants. He's wearing sunglasses. He stands motionless, scanning the perimeter with his gaze.

You move closer. There's no greeting from him. He barely turns his head in your direction. When you're a couple of steps away, he straightens up abruptly and reaches for the handle of the back door of the car to open it.

But you suddenly raise your hand, taking his initiative. Your cool fingers touch his chin. The steel of his jaw instantly hardens under your grip. You gently but firmly pull his face a little lower, catching your reflection in the dark lenses of his glasses. You touch up your lipstick and casually brush away a stray strand of hair.

Dante doesn't move. At all. He even stopped breathing for a moment, so as not to disturb you. His hand remains on the car door, waiting for you to finish.