One
Valeforte was a city that never sleeps.
Even this high up, above the glass skyline, Amara could hear its buzzing. The low hum of traffic. The wail of sirens slices through the dark. The echo of engines and voices that tangled in the alleys like smoke. Neon light shone through the office windows, staining the floor in gold and crimson.
This was her father’s empire.
And tonight, he had called for her.
“Sit,” said Victor Drevino, his voice clipped as always.
Amara refused Instead, she leaned against the polished glass wall, crossing her arms.
“You only call me in when something is wrong or you have something to say which is it?”
Her father’s sharp grey eyes cut through her. They were the same eyes that made men in this city bow or bleed.
“Why do you always make everything a problem ” he said, “I have every right to summon you whenever I want now sit don't make me say that again “
She hesitated for a moment and reluctantly took a seat.
A man stepped in.
Tall. Broad-shouldered, he looked like a shadow wrapped in black. His suit was well-tailored simple not too flashy. A gun holster clung to his side. He didn’t stride, he moved with a quietness that didn’t belong to men in suits but to predators.
Amara froze.
She knew that face. Everyone in Valeforte did.
Darius Veynar.
The blade her father kept hidden in the dark. His best assassin. The kind of man whispered about in backrooms and alleys, where bodies sometimes disappeared and blood washed into the drains.
Her stomach tightened, though she refused to show it.
Her father leaned back in his chair. “Amara,” he said, voice firm, final. “This is Darius. From today forward, he’s your bodyguard.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
Amara blinked. Then let out a laugh, sharp and disbelieving. “You must be joking.”
Her father’s mouth didn’t even twitch. “Do I look like a man who jokes?”
“You’re giving me… him?” She pointed toward Darius, who stood unmoving, silent, his gaze fixed on her like he was already analysing her weaknesses.
“What am I supposed to do with a man like that? Send him off to kill someone or pretend like I'm some helpless doll?”
Victor’s face turned to steel. “You’ll do as I say. Someone wants you dead. I won’t risk my only child.”
“Whose fault is it if I'm always a target “ She murmured
“I have made my decision, and that's final”
The air in the room grew heavy.
Amara hated the way he spoke of her like she was nothing but an asset. Hated that she couldn’t argue with the danger either. In Valeforte, threats were as common as getting gunned down, Rival families. Betrayals. A wrong word could end a bloodline.
She swallowed hard but lifted her chin. “I don’t need him. I can take care of myself.”
“Amara it's final.”
The finality in her father’s voice slammed down on her face like a door.
Her eyes flicked back to Darius. He hadn’t moved since he came in. He stood rooted, shoulders square, hands loose at his sides, his presence filling the room without effort. He was watching her not with curiosity, not with softness, but with the cold, steady weight of a man who doesn't give a care about the world.
Her skin prickled under his stare.
“Do you speak?” she asked, sarcasm curling around the edge of her voice.
There was a pause. Then, finally, he spoke.
“When it’s necessary.”
His voice was low. Rough. Like smoke dragged over gravel. The sound of it brushed over her skin in a way that unsettled her more than she’d admit.
She scoffed, masking her reaction with a smirk. “Well, isn't this amazing, at least my father's dog knows when to bark”
Her father rose from his chair. His hand, heavy and firm, landed on her shoulder. “Respect him, Amara. I trust this man with your life.”
The words stung more than they should have.
Then he left the office, his footsteps fading down the hall, leaving only silence between her and the man who would now become her shadow.
Amara shifted, refusing to look uneasy. “So,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery,
“Does your schedule include you following me into the bathroom too, or just everywhere else?”
Darius didn’t answer. His gaze didn’t waver.
It wasn’t a leer. It wasn’t even interesting. It was an assessment. Calculation.
And somehow, that made her more uneasy.
Amara stepped closer, tilting her head, daring him. “You don’t scare me, you know.”
His jaw flexed, but he said nothing.
Her smirk deepened, though her heart was beating too fast. “This should be fun.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. But there was something in the silence, something unspoken that wrapped around her like the city’s night air.
And for the first time, Amara Drevino wasn’t sure if she was the one holding the power in the room.
The ride back to the Drevino estate was suffocating.
Darius drove. His hands on the wheel were steady, veins corded, his wrist brushing against the black cuff of his suit. He didn’t speak. The engine’s growl filled the silence.
Amara slouched back in the leather seat, arms folded, eyes flicking toward him. She hated the silence it was suffocating. Especially his kind of silence the kind that spoke louder than words.
“Do you ever talk?” she asked, breaking it.
He didn’t look at her. “I'm not big on small talk. Not interested in them ”
Her lips curved. “So what kind of talks are you interested in or big on?”
“Like I said, I only talk when it's necessary”
Amara rolled her eyes, turning her face to the passing city lights. Valeforte’s underside glowed outside the tinted glass neon signs, shadowed alleys, and the pulse of danger that never slept in this city.
She should’ve hated this. Being watched. Being caged. But as the car glided smoothly down the dark road, the man next to her sat completely still, like a statue. It sparked a different feeling deep within her.
The car turned off the main road, climbing the hill toward the Drevino estate. The city lights fell away, replaced by the quiet hum of trees and the looming iron gates that guarded the property.
The gates opened automatically. The car rolled down the long driveway, lined with sharp-cut hedges and stone lanterns that flickered like sentries. At the top of the hill sat the mansion three stories of glass and dark stone, sleek and cold against the night sky.
Home.
Or a cage. Depending on the night or day.
Darius pulled the car to a stop in front of the grand entrance. He shut the engine off. Silence swelled in the space between them.
Amara tapped her nails against the window, then looked at him. “So this is how it works? You follow me around, keep me breathing, and glare at anyone who dares look my way?”
“Something like that.”
“Sounds boring.”
He finally looked at her. Just for a moment. His eyes locked on hers, dark and unreadable, carrying the weight of someone who’d seen far too much.
“You’d be surprised,” he said.
Her breath hitched, but she quickly disguised it with a scoff. She shoved the door open and stepped out into the night air, heels clicking against the stone steps. The mansion loomed above her, as cold as her father’s rules.
Behind her, Darius’s footsteps followed measured, calm, inevitable.
She paused at the door, turning to face him, her chin tilting up.
“Oh one more thing” she said. “I don’t like leashes. If you’re here to control me, you’ll fail.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “I’m not here to control you.”
“Good,” she shot back.
“I’m here to protect you. Whether you like it or not.”
Something in the way he said it low, steady, unyielding made the air thicken. Amara swallowed hard, caught for just a second in the heat of his presence.
Then she smirked, breaking it. “We’ll see how long you last.”
With that, she pushed open the mansion doors and strode inside, refusing to let him see how her heart was racing.
Darius followed, silent as a shadow.
And for the first time in her life, Amara Drevino realised she wasn’t sure who was more dangerous her enemies in the city… or the man her father had chained to her side.
