Chapter One
Alexandra
“For the last time, Alexandra, it’s not going to happen. Please, just drop it so we can eat in peace. I’ve had a shit day, and I just want to drink this wine, eat some junk food, and slump in front of the TV.”
I clenched my fists under the table and glared at him, giving him the slight frown that I had practiced in the mirror earlier. Normally it was effective, but at the moment, he wasn’t having it.
“Don’t even try it, sweetheart. I’ve had enough bullshit at work, so that it’s just not gonna work on me today. I said no, and I mean no. That’s the end of it.”
I sighed defeatedly but wasn’t ready to give up just yet on what had thus far been a week-long argument, played out in small one or two hourly episodes every evening.
“Dad, I know you don’t like it, but I’m not a little girl anymore. All I constantly see on Instagram are pics of my friends all over the world, and believe me, there isn’t a chaperone in sight in any of them! Cocktail bars, pool parties, gorgeous hotels...just young people having fun with no danger nearby!”
I raised my dainty, recently manicured eyebrows and pouted slightly again. If this was some random guy, I would have leaned forward and showed a hint of cleavage, guaranteeing a quick end to the argument.
But unfortunately, this wasn’t some random guy. This was my father.
He wistfully glanced up from his large glass of wine, looking almost annoyed that I was distracting him from it. “You can’t see the chaperones because they’re damn good at staying out of sight. That’s why the good ones cost so damn much! I’m not insisting on this just because I think you’re some special little snowflake, believe me. I have my reasons.”
And here we come to the brick wall again, I thought to myself, knowing we would soon begin skirting around the issue of why I needed protection, although Dad would never actually answer the question. But I decided to take the chance and engage the argument anyway. “Why do I need a bodyguard then?”
If my psychology degree had taught me anything at all about body language—which it had, considering that I’d graduated Summa Cum Laude—it was that my dad wouldn’t be swayed. Regardless, I refused to give anything away, despite the fact that I was nearing the end of my patience and almost ready to fold.
I’ll make it worth my while when I do though, that’s for damn sure! I thought bitterly.
Dad sighed and tore his eyes away from the TV for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t explain, I’ve told you that. I’ve signed confidentiality agreements that would put me in jail if I even told you what kind of paper they were written on.” He drained his glass of wine.
I refrained from rolling my eyes. Not sure that’s how you’re supposed to drink a $300 bottle of red wine, Dad...
“Look, I’ll tell you what. Let’s make a deal,” I offered.
Dad sat up and put on what I called his ‘business mode’ face, his head slightly raised and his shoulders back with his hands crossed in front of him. “I’ll tell you what I can do, even though it’ll still get me in trouble. I might be able to talk my way out of it though, but only on the condition that you agree to my terms.” He paused for a moment and smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot. As a sweetener, I’ll cover all your travel expenses, not just the flights and accommodation.”
I sat up, my eyes widening. This was more to my liking. My dad was a very rich man, but the money he had put aside for me when I was younger was being held in trust in the form of shares in his company, and I couldn’t spend a penny of it until the trust matured in just under two years.
And I wanted to go on vacation now.
“What’s caused the sudden generosity, Daddy?” I asked. “Did someone slip something into your wine?”
He gave me a sympathetic laugh. “No, Alexandra. My company’s share price has risen rather considerably in the last few days, with the positive media reaction over the completion of our last contract. Which was front page news, I hasten to add. Oh, and following the news article, the companies are now queuing up to get us to sign more software development contracts.”
Dad still referred to the company as his even though he’d sold the majority stake to a large multinational software and hardware development conglomerate when I was young. The share price had risen sharply, making us billionaires on paper almost overnight, and it seemed we were even richer now. Not much of that mattered to me though, at least not until my shares matured and I’d have more money than I could ever spend.
At the moment though, I just wanted to enjoy the last few years of my early twenties before I had to worry about buying a house, having kids, or any of the burdens that would come with either. And by fun, I meant luxury travel. partying, sightseeing…
And sex. Not necessarily lots of it. Just good sex from a man who knows what he’s doing, not like the small handful I’d experienced casually at college, small being the operative word…
“Deal?” Dad barked, bringing me out of my daydream.
This is it, then. Time to concede defeat on favorable terms. “Okay, Daddy. If it really means that much to you, I’ll let you hire someone to look after me. As long as they don’t get in the way, cramp my style, or cockblock me.” Dad winced, making me regret my choice of words. “Well, you know what I mean. I am 22 now, you know.”
“I know. Anyway, here’s what I can tell you.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “You know I manage the software development of part of the company, right? A position I was given when I returned to work, after your mom passed away. Let’s just say that I manage the development of software that either helps kill people or helps to stop people from being killed. And not just for companies, but for armed forces and governments too. And there’s lots of nasty bastards out there who would do anything to get their hands on it.”
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant for a second. He rarely spoke about Mom. She had died after a brave but short battle with an aggressive form of cancer when I was three. Dad later told me that he had sold the majority of his company at the time of her diagnosis, so he could be there to support her and look after me. I could tell that he still wasn't over her death and would probably never be. And the loss made him even more protective of me, which was touching but could be very smothering at times.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I’ve already told you more than I’ve ever told anyone outside of work about what I do. But hopefully you understand that I’m not just being an overprotective old bastard. I want you to have fun and do your own thing, but I want someone there...just in case, ya know?”
“I know,” I said as sympathetically as I could manage, even as the excitement started to build up. After almost two years of planning and re-planning, chatting about the details with friends, and a week of arguing with my dad, I was finally going travelling! And with Dad covering my expenses, travel, and hotel, I’d be travelling in sublime style and luxury. None of that slumming it with dirty backpackers, getting fleas or crabs or whatever you’d get living in a hostel, or sleeping with unwashed travelers.
For me, it would be first-class or business-class, the best hotels, and nicest restaurants. Not to mention clean, wealthy, handsome, and hopefully well-endowed men.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?