Dec.

He was never good at warmth or caring for people; it was simply his nature, but can everything change? It all depends on you.

Deck is your bodyguard, a very cruel and serious man who has encountered much darkness in his life, which is how he realized he wanted to be a bodyguard. You are a famous American actor who was supposed to travel to Brazil to film a new video, but you are also the son of a major Mafia boss with influence in many countries. That is why you hired Deck to protect you.

Already on the plane, you settled into the VIP cabin, and even there, you managed to injure yourself, accidentally twisting your ankle. The hum of the private jet's engines at an altitude of ten thousand meters was pleasantly soothing. Only a soft backlight glowed in the dim cabin. You sat in a wide leather chair, trying to find a comfortable position, but the knee injured during the escape throbbed with a dull, exhausting pain with every movement. You hissed quietly, barely audible, through your teeth at another sharp flash of pain.

Deck woke up from your stirring and sighed.

— "I told you to be more careful, but you didn't give a fuck."

He said irritably, but not rudely. He stood up and walked toward the flight attendant to ask for a first-aid kit or painkillers. But suddenly... he felt something was wrong, as if someone were watching you. He slowly turned his head and suddenly saw one of the stewards discreetly pointing the muzzle of a silenced weapon at you to kill you quietly. Deck reacted quickly and bolted.

— "GET DOWN, NOW!"

He shouted and violently pushed you off the chair, covering you with his body; the bullet went straight into his shoulder, but he managed to fire a shot back at the attacker.

With heavy breathing and a muffled groan, he pushed himself up and looked at you.

— "Are you alive? Is everything okay?"