My Billionaire Bodyguard is an Obsessive Psycho

My fianc of five years and my half-sister, Serena, teamed up to stab me in the back, turning me into the most hated plagiarist in the fashion industry.

At the new collection launch, they grandly announced their engagement, trampling my dignity underfoot.

The entire internet ridiculed me, demanding I get out of the design world. Someone even threw acid at me.

But my good-for-nothing bodyguard, who usually just played video games and slept all day on a measly salary, slowly stood up.

He kicked the attacker away. Then, in front of the live global broadcast, he made a call to the head of the world's most powerful conglomerate.

"My sister's sick of this garbage industry." He casually wiped the blood from his hands. "Ten minutes. I want Hayes Corporation bankrupt."

The entire internet erupted. The deadbeat they'd ridiculed was actually the heir to an untouchable East Coast dynasty, controlling the global economy.

He cornered me against the wall, under the spotlight, his eyes blazing. "Chloe, now you can only rely on me."

My name is Chloe Miller. I used to be the youngest top fashion designer in the country.

In five years, I had won countless awards and founded my own brand, Zephyr.

But today, my reputation was ruined.

At Zephyr's Autumn Couture Show, the big screen wasn't playing my designs. Instead, it showed the "original sketches" of my half-sister, Serena Miller.

The two designs were identical.

The only difference was that Serena's sketches were dated a full three months earlier than mine.

"Chloe Miller, have you no shame? Plagiarizing your own sister's work!"

"Boycott the copycat! Get out of the design world!"

The media and audience below the stage surged forward. Flashes went off like daggers, ready to tear me to pieces.

I stared at the two people standing center stage.

One was Serena Miller, currently nestled in a man's arms, sobbing.

That man was Ethan Hayes, CEO of Hayes Corporation.

He was also my fianc of five years, whom I was supposed to marry next month.

"Ethan, please don't blame Chloe. She probably just wanted to win too badly..." Serena tugged at Ethan's sleeve, her voice soft.

Ethan pulled her closer, then looked at me with disgust.

"Chloe Miller, I never thought you would be this kind of person." Ethan's voice was cold. "Serena treated you like family, and you stole her life's work. From today on, our engagement is off. Hayes Corporation will withdraw its investment from Zephyr and sue you."

The entire hall gasped.

I stood on stage, my body going numb.

Three months ago, Ethan said he wanted to give me a surprise and took all my rough drafts and initial designs.

It turned out his surprise was to put Serena's name on my work and then publicly push me into hell.

"Ethan Hayes, you will pay for this." I gritted my teeth, my eyes red, but I didn't cry.

"Pay for this?" Ethan sneered. "You should worry about yourself."

The moment he finished speaking, a crazed fan suddenly rushed onto the stage, holding a water bottle, and lunged at me.

"Die, plagiarist!"

A sharp chemical smell filled the air.

It was acid.

I couldn't dodge. My mind went blank. I closed my eyes in despair.

But the pain never came.

A hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me into an embrace that smelled faintly of tobacco.

Then came a loud bang.

The attacker was kicked away, crashing against the backdrop.

The acid splashed onto the floor, instantly corroding a large, blackened hole.

The entire hall fell silent.

Still shaking, I looked up.

I saw an extremely arrogant, impossibly handsome face.

Jaxson King.

My bodyguard and personal assistant.

His main activities: sleeping and playing video games.

He slept until noon every day, woke up to play games, ate the meals I cooked, and went back to sleep.

When I asked why he didn't get a real job, he would always lean lazily on the couch and say, "Work? Start a business? My sister supports me."

I paid him three thousand dollars a month, and he often complained I wasn't generous enough.

But at this moment, he held my waist with one hand and ran the other through his messy black hair.

He looked down, his deep eyes slightly narrowed, a cold ferocity in them.

"Touch her? Who do you think you are?"

"What are you doing? Security!" Ethan Hayes was the first to react, pointing at Jaxson and yelling.

A few security guards nervously surrounded us.

Jaxson didn't even glance at them. He looked down at me, his brow slightly furrowed.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was a little hoarse, with a hint of tension.

I shook my head and pushed him away. "Why are you here?"

"To pick you up from work." He said it casually, his gaze sweeping over the acid marks on the floor. His eyes turned ice-cold.

He turned and walked toward Ethan and Serena.

Jaxson was over six feet tall. Though he wore a faded black T-shirt, the intimidation radiating from him made Ethan take a step back.

"What do you want? I'm warning you, this is Hayes Corporation's property!" Ethan shouted.

Jaxson let out a soft laugh.

"Hayes Corporation's property?"

He slowly pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

When the call connected, he said only one sentence.

"Ten minutes. I want Hayes Corporation bankrupt."

The entire hall was silent for a second, then erupted in laughter.

"Who is this guy? Is he crazy?"

"He's just a bodyguard. Does he think he's a CEO?"

"Ten minutes to bankrupt Hayes Corporation? Does he think he's the heir to an East Coast dynasty?"

Ethan also laughed. "Chloe Miller, is this the loser you found? A good-for-nothing who only knows how to brag?"

Serena Miller giggled. "Chloe, if you are going to hire someone to act, at least get someone believable."

I tugged at Jaxson's sleeve and whispered, "Jaxson, stop messing around. Let's go."

I didn't want to stay and be a spectacle.

Jaxson held my hand. His palm was warm.

"Chloe, what's the rush?" A wicked smile played on his lips. "The show has just begun."

Time ticked by.

Five minutes later.

Ethan's phone rang.

He picked it up casually. "Hello?"

The next second, his face went pale.

"What did you say? The capital chain is broken? The bank is calling in loans? All partners have terminated their contracts?"

Ethan's voice cracked with fear.

The phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed.

The entire hall was silent.

Everyone stared at Jaxson as if he were a monster.

Jaxson looked down at Ethan. "I told you. Touch her, and you are nothing."

The press conference ended with Hayes Corporation declaring bankruptcy.

Jaxson practically pushed me into his beat-up car.

A suffocating silence filled the car.

I stared at the night scenery, my mind a mess.

Ethan's betrayal, Serena's scheme, and Jaxson's unbelievable phone call.

"Who are you?" I finally broke the silence, turning to look at him.

Jaxson gripped the steering wheel with one hand. His profile was sharp.

He chuckled. "Me? Your good-for-nothing bodyguard, hired for three thousand bucks."

"Jaxson, stop lying to me." I took a deep breath. "An ordinary bodyguard couldn't bankrupt Hayes Corporation with one phone call."

"Maybe Ethan brought it on himself?" He turned his head. "Chloe, instead of my identity, shouldn't you be more concerned about your situation?"

I froze.

He was right. Hayes Corporation was bankrupt, but the "plagiarist" label still stuck to me.

Serena had her "original sketches," and all my early drafts had been destroyed by Ethan.

In the design world, plagiarism was a capital offense.

My brand, Zephyr, was being boycotted. My studio was shut down. I was penniless and homeless.

The car stopped in front of a rundown apartment building.

This was Jaxson's rented place.

"Go on up." He pulled out the keys and opened the door for me.

The apartment was small but clean.

I sat on the narrow sofa, watching Jaxson take two cans of beer from the fridge. He handed one to me.

"Here. To calm your nerves."

I took the beer. My fingertips brushed his cold ones.

"Jaxson, why are you helping me?" I looked up.

He leaned against the table, his long legs crossed, and took a sip of beer.

"Because you are my boss." He put down the can, a half-smile on his lips. "If you go bankrupt, who will pay me?"

"But..."

"No buts." He suddenly leaned in, his hands on either side of the sofa, trapping me.

His masculine scent enveloped me.

I was forced to look up at his handsome face so close to mine.

"Chloe Miller." He dropped his lazy smile. His gaze became intense. "Remember, from now on, you can only rely on me."

His voice was deep and husky.

I bit my lip and turned my head away. "I don't need to rely on anyone. I will prove my innocence myself."

Jaxson chuckled. His fingers pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Prove it? With what? You don't even have money to buy fabric."

His words were like a sharp knife.

"That's none of your business!" I pushed his hand away and stood up to leave.

But he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms.

"Let me go!" I struggled.

"Stop moving." His hands were like iron clamps around my waist. His chin rested on my head. "Chloe, you are so stubborn. You will only get hurt."

His voice held a hint of helplessness.

I froze in his arms, feeling his powerful heartbeat. Finally, my tears fell.

In the following days, I fully experienced what it meant to be kicked while I was down.

The media that used to praise me now published daily articles denouncing me.

My former peers avoided me.

Even some students I had mentored publicly distanced themselves from me.

I had become a pariah.

Meanwhile, Serena Miller stepped over my ruined career and became the design world's hottest "genius."

Although Hayes Corporation went bankrupt, Serena quickly latched onto another powerful connection Asher Thorne, the second son of the Thorne family, one of the most prominent dynasties on the East Coast.

To win her favor, Asher poured money into Serena's new personal brand. He also announced that Serena would represent the country at the Global Young Designers Competition in Paris next month.

That was the dream of every designer.

It was also the goal I had prepared for for three years.

I slammed the newspaper onto the table.

"Angry?" Jaxson came out of the kitchen with a plate of a sandwich and placed it in front of me. "Eat."

I looked at the a sandwich. I had no appetite.

"Jaxson, I want to enter that competition." I looked up, my eyes determined.

Jaxson raised an eyebrow and sat down. "You don't even have the qualifications. How will you enter?"

"I can apply through a wild card." I gritted my teeth. "If I can get a recommendation letter from an international judge, I can compete."

"International judge?" Jaxson scoffed. "Your reputation is so bad now. Who would write you a letter?"

"I will see Master Charles." I took a deep breath. "He saw my work before and admired it. If I can show him my new designs, he will help me."

Master Charles was a titan in the global fashion industry and the chief judge for this competition. He happened to be on vacation in the country.

Jaxson looked at me.

"Are you sure you want to go?"

"I have to." I clenched my fists. "This is my only chance."

Jaxson said nothing more.

The next day, carrying the design sketches I had drawn overnight, I arrived at Master Charles's hotel.

But I couldn't even get past the main entrance.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Miller. Master Charles isn't seeing anyone." The hotel manager coldly blocked me.

"I just need ten minutes. Five minutes will do." I pleaded.

"Chloe Miller, have you no shame?"

A sharp voice came from behind me.

I turned around and saw Serena Miller, arm-in-arm with Asher Thorne, walking over.

Serena was wearing a custom-made gown, her makeup perfect.

"Chloe, you have been blacklisted. Why are you still here making a scene?" Serena walked up to me. "Master Charles is about to see me. Leave now so you don't dirty his eyes."

I glared at her. "Serena Miller, you stole my work. Don't you have nightmares?"

"Stole? Do you have proof?" Serena giggled. "Now the whole internet knows that you, Chloe Miller, plagiarized me. You are a failure."

Asher Thorne also looked at me with disgust. "Security, get this woman out of here."

Several security guards grabbed my arms and dragged me outside.

My design sketches scattered on the floor, trampled underfoot.

"Let me go!" I struggled, tears streaming down my face.

Just then, a black Maybach pulled up at the hotel entrance.

The door opened, and a pair of long legs stepped out.

Jaxson King.

Today, he wasn't wearing a faded T-shirt. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit.

His hair was combed. He exuded an undeniable nobility.

He walked toward me and kicked away the security guard holding me.

"Who gave you the right to touch her?"