The Guardian

The Guardian

The Prodigal Son

Sabrina could hardly believe it. Stefan had scolded her in the past about her shameful personal security, but with Helena dead, she had foolishly assumed the dark clouds that loomed over her had finally passed. How wrong she was. Her captor glared at her, having said nothing since he'd easily sprinted her from the few guards she'd kept. Stefan had been right. Helena's presence would never die, she should have known that.

"Are you going to kill me?" His expression did not change, nor did it waver. "No."

"Who are you?" she demanded in response. A flicker of something came over him momentarily, before the steely expression returned. Was that amusement she saw in his eyes?

"Your guardian. Your brother hired me to find you and keep you safe. You have many enemies," he remarked cooly. Sabrina frowned, suddenly realizing his face and voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise just outside the villa they were in. His jaw tightened as his pale blue eyes fixated on her. Sabrina swallowed, the heat creeping into her cheeks, feeling incredibly naked under his gaze.

The noise came again, only closer this time. His hand moved to where his glock nestled in its holster. Tristan Scorpio released the safety on his weapon. "Stay here," he ordered. With that, her guardian was gone.