My name is Delaney Powell. I come from a wealthy family, but I’m fiercely independent. Unlike other spoiled heiresses, I earn my own money. I’m proud of my parents for respecting my ambition and letting me forge my own path.
I wake up with a dull ache behind my eyes. Another consequence of working overtime. With a groan, I slide out of bed. I juggle school with a part-time job at a diner. Three months left, then I’m off to college – something I’ve dreamed of since childhood.
I head to the bathroom and stare at my reflection. Dark circles ring my eyes. I look exhausted, like a ghost haunting a sleepless night. I decide to put in a little extra effort with my appearance today. I never show up to school looking unkempt, though I rarely bother with elaborate hairstyles.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I retrieve my flatiron and makeup kit. The closet reveals a dizzying array of options. I settle on a skirt and low heels, adding a touch more makeup than usual. Today feels…significant. It’s payday, and a little extra polish feels warranted.
~~~~~~~~~~
After nearly an hour battling my hair with a flatiron, I descended the stairs. Curling without a proper curling iron is torture. My parents were engaged in conversation with a man I couldn't quite see. I walked straight into the kitchen, grabbing a plate of breakfast before they noticed me.
My parents turned as I devoured my breakfast. Behind them stood a man who stopped my heart. He stood well over six feet tall, radiating an aura of danger. He looked my age, though perhaps a little older. His grey eyes, sharp and piercing, fixed on me with undisguised disdain. How could someone so handsome carry such a coldness? Tattoos snaked across his neck and hands, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. He was, without a doubt, the most stunning man I'd ever seen.
“Good morning, Mom, Dad,” I greeted with a smile.
“Good morning, Delaney,” they replied, exchanging worried glances. The man’s gaze hadn’t left me, as if anticipating my reaction.
“Listen, we’ve hired a bodyguard for you,” my father stated.
“What? Why?” I asked, stunned. Why would my parents need someone to protect me? What if he kidnapped me or worse?
“I can’t believe you guys,” I protested, arms raised. My appetite vanished. I turned to leave, grabbing my car keys.
Before I could reach the door, a hand snatched the keys from my grasp. I whirled around, locking eyes with the same man who'd walked into my life moments ago.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“I could care less about your tantrums,” he snarled. “It’s my job to get you to and from school.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “I’m not moving until I get my keys back.”
My parents watched us, their faces etched with concern. Why did they look so frightened? Too distracted by their worry, I didn’t notice the man’s approach. He bent down, scooped me up onto his shoulder, and carried me like a sack of potatoes.
“Hey! Put me down!” I screamed, hitting his back with my fists. His muscles were rock-hard. Who did he think he was? If he worked for my parents, this was unacceptable.
He tossed me into the passenger seat of a black Lamborghini, slamming the door shut.
“Hey! This car has child lock!” I yelled, trying to open the door. He started the engine.
“Go ahead and try to pull off,” he said.
“I swear to god I will grab that steering wheel.” I protested.
He sighed and pulled out of the driveway. I crossed my arms, seething. He lit a cigarette, which I hated. My heart ached with a memory of someone I loved, lost to the same addiction. I snatched the lighter from his hand.
“I don’t care about you taking me to school,” I said, slumping into the seat. “But could you please not smoke around me?”
“Listen, Delaney,” he growled, snatching his cigarette back. “I don’t give a shit about your feelings.”
“I only agreed to this job because of my father,” he snapped.
What was his problem? I could have driven myself.
“Fine,” I retorted. “You ugly old man, just so you know I’m allergic.” I lied, rolling my eyes. He sighed angrily.
After a fifteen-minute drive, we arrived at school. He slammed the door and opened mine.
“Get the hell out,” he said.
“I’ll have you know you work for my family! I will tell them how you are talking to me.” I yelled, getting out of the car. As soon as I got out, he put one arm on the car blocking me from walking away.
“Listen, sweetheart! You don’t want to be on my bad side.” He growled.
I ignored him, turning my head away.
“You’re giving me a headache,” I scowled. He rolled his eyes and walked back around the car. I sighed, realizing all eyes were on us. That gorgeous jerk.
I made my way inside the school, leaving him behind.