Page 3 of Protecting What's Mine

Orion opens the folder, his eyes narrowing as he studies the contents. He sucks in a breath before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. “It never is.” He fixates a little longer on the picture inside his folder, his jaw clenched with determination.

“Lincoln already has his assignment,” Dean states, his voice steady and commanding. They share another look, a silent communication that speaks volumes. It must be some hush-hush undercover operation or something equally critical.

“Boone, here’s your assignment.” Dean hands a file to Boone. “I briefed you on it last week.”

Boone opens the file, his brows furrowing slightly as he studies the contents. “Wow,” he mutters under his breath. “Who’s this?”

“Name’s Aubree Ryan, and she’s got a stalker too. We’re still in the dark about the identity, but she needs to get out of Nashville.”

Boone nods decisively. “I’ll take her to my cabin nearby. It’s remote, secure.”

I focus back on the file in my hand while Dean continues, detailing Asher’s assignment of pretending to be engaged to the woman he’s protecting. As I stare into the blue eyes of Tory in her photograph, I’m struck by her striking beauty. Questions swirl in my mind.

Why did her father bring her to Saint Pierce? Why not leave her at home while he attends the Summit Meeting?

“I want everyone to know I’m here if you need anything,” Dean says, snapping me back to the present moment.

We all grunt our acknowledgement, each absorbed in our thoughts and tasks. My assignment seems straightforward, and I don’t anticipate serious complications. What concerns me most is her beauty and the unexpected attraction I feel toward her photo. But I never mix business and pleasure. In fact, it’s been a long time since I mixed anything and pleasure together. Love is a risk I refuse to take. Can you blame me? Dean is the exception in my world, the only one who has found lasting happiness. My parents, my sister, my friends—they’ve all stumbled in the realm of love, and I’m not willing to gamble.

I hate risk.

My approach is always calculated, every move measured. So despite Tory’s allure, I won’t let temptation cloud my judgment.

We file out of the room, except for Asher, whom Dean asks to stay behind for further instructions.

“We all need to catch up soon,” Boone says in the lobby, his voice echoing in the spacious corridor. “It was fun last time. Maybe once I’m done protecting this girl from her ex, we can have a guy’s poker night.”

It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve hung out with the guys, and Boone’s suggestion resonates. “I’m down with that,” I chime in, a smile tugging at my lips.

They all laugh. They remember who won all the money last time.

Me.

“What’s so funny? I’d love to take more of your money,” I quip.

“No, I’m not playing poker with this guy again,” Lincoln says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Besides, I don’t know when I’ll be free, because my job isn’t an easy one.”

I slap Lincoln on the shoulder playfully. “I figured when Dean pulled you aside before everyone else, it was something serious.”

Lincoln sighs, a shadow crossing his features. “It’s Isabel. She’s been receiving threats.”

“Who’s behind it?” Boone asks, his tone now serious.

Lincoln shrugs, frustration evident. “Not sure yet. Dean has some leads. I’m just supposed to keep Isabel safe while he investigates.”

“Good luck with that. She can’t be too thrilled about being watched,” Orion comments, his expression sympathetic.

At that moment, the distinctive sound of Isabel Maddox’s heels clicking down the tiled hallway interrupts our conversation. We glance at each other and scatter toward the elevator, leaving Lincoln to deal with Isabel on his own.

“I’m out of here,” I announce to no one in particular as I press the elevator button, its soft ding announcing its arrival. “I’ve got a beauty to protect.”

As I step into the elevator, my thoughts drift back to Tory and the task ahead. I’m sure it won’t be easy to protect someone who’s already having some sort of weird effect on me, but it’s the job. Somebody’s gotta do it.

Chapter 2

Tory

“We’re leaving here in five minutes,” my father announces from the plush sitting area of our hotel suite, his voice clipped and precise, as always. He doesn’t even glance up from his tablet, where streams of complex data scroll across the screen.