My Fiancé's Bodyguard is My New Contract

PROLOGUE

While my fianc?, Jett Carver, was locked in a passionate kiss in the living room with some poor, broke college girl, I was in the basement.

That s where I found him.

Kian Bishop.

The broody, intense male lead of this novel, currently employed as nothing more than a glorified bodyguard.

Interested in a little romance? I asked.

He glanced at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes, before letting out a soft scoff.
If I remember correctly, he said, his voice a low rumble, you and my employer are getting married next month.

Exactly, I purred, stepping closer. So, how about an affair?

I watched the storm gather in his gaze and leaned in, my lips just a breath away from his.
We can start with a kiss. What do you think?

01

Kian Bishop remained perfectly still, his back pressed against the cold concrete pillar as I rose onto my toes, closing the distance.

But just as our lips were about to touch, his hand shot up, palm flat against my shoulder, pushing me back.

Please have some self-respect, Ms. Stanton, he said.

His voice was cold, the frost amplified by the gash on his temple, still oozing fresh blood. His eyes, when they met mine, were like chips of ice.

Sharp cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass the man was a work of art.

And all I wanted to do was ruin him. Self-respect be damned.

This System was a real piece of work.

Its mission for me? Redeem the male lead.

My assigned role? The villain s fianc?e.

But me? I have a weakness for pretty things.

The moment I saw Kian Bishop s face, I decided the System worked in mysterious, wonderful ways.

The kiss was a no-go, so I pouted internally and asked the System, *Can we do a forced-seduction plotline?*

*Absolutely not!* it shrieked in my head. *Get a grip! This is a redemption mission, not your personal playground!*

I shrugged, my disappointment genuine, and let my eyes drift downwards.

I noticed the dark, damp stain on his sleeve. On the dark fabric of his uniform, it was almost invisible.

But I have a keen sense for the smell of blood.

I pointed. Aren't you going to take care of that?

He spared the wound a brief glance before tilting his head back, his gaze fixed on the sliver of orange sunset visible through a high basement window. He took a long drag from a cigarette he d just lit, the ember glowing in the dim light.
You sure do like meddling in other people s business, Ms. Stanton, he exhaled with the smoke.

I was about to retort when I heard the unmistakable bellow of my asshole fianc?.

Anya! Where the hell are you?! Jett s voice echoed down the corridor, his footsteps growing closer.

Did he and the flavor-of-the-week finish already? Couldn t they at least make it to the second act?

No time to think. I grabbed Kian s arm and yanked him toward the heavy steel door of the cellar behind us.

Just before the lock clicked shut, I heard Jett s frustrated roar: Where did that stupid woman go now?!

My back against the door, I tilted my head at Kian, a slow smile spreading across my face.
Let me patch you up.

I didn t give him a chance to refuse.

Because if I open this door right now, I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, our little affair becomes a fact. And I wonder, Mr. Bishop, how you re going to explain that to your boss.

As if on cue, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, grinning as I angled the screen so Kian could see the caller ID.

*Jett Carver.*

Kian Bishop was trapped. The Carver family had him on a tight leash, and for reasons I was about to find out, he had no choice but to obey.

I watched him stare at me, his jaw tight. A few seconds ticked by in the silent, dusty air before he finally gave a stiff, reluctant nod.

Victory.

02

The cellar had been converted into a private gym, a training ground for Jett s security team.

Which meant it came fully equipped with a professional-grade first-aid kit.

I lifted Kian s sleeve. An old wound, poorly healed, had split open again. Nothing serious.

I worked with practiced efficiency, cleaning and dressing the cut. When I looked up, Kian was watching me, his eyes filled with a sharp, analytical curiosity.

He didn't ask any questions, though. Just glanced at the fresh white gauze on his arm.
You got what you wanted, he said, his tone flat. Can you let me go now?

Let you go ? That sounds so dramatic. I m just trying to win you over.

Oh. A humorless smile touched his lips. Then you can give up. I refuse.

He stood and walked toward the door without another word.

But just before he opened it, he paused, his hand on the handle, and looked back over his shoulder.
A piece of advice, Ms. Stanton, he said, his voice laced with a warning. Don t go around provoking just anyone.

The moment his words faded, my phone buzzed with a text from Jett.

*Where are you? Lila stained her dress. Find her something clean and beautiful to wear and bring it over.*

Lila. That was the name of the poor college girl, Jett s latest pet project.

I stared at the screen, a string of curses running through my mind. The System had told me the original owner of this body, the real Anya Stanton, had died by suicide.

Jett had only agreed to the engagement to get access to The Stanton Charter s resources.

But Anya had been hopelessly in love with him for years. Getting engaged was a dream come true, only to be followed by the daily nightmare of watching him flaunt his affairs in her face.

One drunken night, the despair became too much.

And I, on my way to the great beyond, got pulled in to fill the vacancy.

I was grateful for the second chance at life, I truly was.

But every time I saw Jett Carver, I remembered that a girl had died because of him. And it made me want to stab something.

And now he wanted me to play maid to his mistress?

I typed furiously. *Go cry to your daddy.*

I hit send and immediately blocked his number.

As I put my phone away, a thought struck me. *System,* I asked, *what s Kian Bishop s number?*

The System recited the digits as I typed them into my contacts, searching for a user profile.

There it was. I grinned, sending a friend request.

I typed a note into the request field. *I m not that easy. You re the only one I want to provoke.*

I was halfway out of the cellar when I realized the friend request hadn t been accepted. Instead, an incoming call from a blocked number lit up my screen. Jett.

I declined, deleted the call log, and followed the System s directions straight to the Stanton family mansion.

I found all of the original Anya s bank cards and IDs in her room.

On my way out, I ran into my father.

What s with all the rushing around? You look a mess! he barked, his first words a reprimand. Jett s birthday party is tonight. You will be on your best behavior. Nothing can jeopardize this wedding before it happens!

I thought about Jett s blocked number and smirked.

Sorry, Dad. The jeopardy has already begun.

Not wanting to get into it with him, I just nodded vaguely and headed for the door.
*You re sure you can get me out of this engagement, right?* I asked the System. *I have no intention of wasting my time on that moron.*

*Jett has no emotional attachment to Anya,* the System replied. *To him, one heiress is as good as another. When the time is right, I ll introduce an NPC to take your place. For now, this identity gives you the best access to Kian. Just hang in there.*

That was reassuring. I pulled out my phone again.

Still no friend notification from Kian.

I sighed.

And sent another request.

This time, the note was simpler. *See you tonight.*

03

Jett Carver was obsessed with grandiosity.

A simple birthday party had to be held at a sprawling, ostentatious mansion on top of a mountain.

The Carver Crest. Of course.

Tugging at the uncomfortable fabric of my designer gown, I scanned the crowded ballroom, my eyes searching for only one person.

I hadn t taken more than a few steps into the main hall when a voice boomed from above.
Anya Stanton!

I looked up. Jett was leaning over the second-floor railing, his arm draped possessively around it, glaring down at me.

And standing silently behind him, a stoic shadow in a perfectly tailored suit, was Kian.

My eyes drank him in. A much, much better view.

My appreciation was cut short. Jett was already storming down the grand staircase, his face a mask of fury. He stopped in front of me, his voice a low growl.
Jealousy is one thing, but there s a limit. Who the hell gave you the nerve to curse at me? And to block my number?!

I wiggled my fingers playfully. I ve got the nerve to slap you, too. Want to see?

Jett s eyes widened in disbelief. Anya, what is wrong with you? Did you take the wrong pills today?!

*Host, can you please try to be a little more subtle?* the System pleaded in my head.

*What do you know?* I shot back. *This is strategy. I have to make it crystal clear to Kian how much I despise my fianc?. It s the only way he ll believe my intentions are genuine.*

As if on cue, I glanced toward Kian. I was about to flash him a dazzling smile, but he had already turned his face away, his expression a perfect mask of indifference.

Well, damn.

*System, do I not look good tonight?*

*You look great.*

*Then why won t he even look at me?*

*& Look on the bright side. He s not looking at any other women, either, right?*

That was true.

But that didn t stop other women from looking at him.

Lila, Jett s little pet, glided over, her dress rustling. She kept darting little glances at Kian.

After tucking her arm into Jett s, she said in a voice dripping with faux innocence, Jett, your bodyguard looks so handsome in a suit. He could almost pass for a guest.

Her words landed, and I felt a knot of dread tighten in my stomach.

She d just stepped on Jett Carver s biggest landmine.

Jett kept many bodyguards, but he kept Kian Bishop close. Not out of preference, but for the sheer pleasure of tormenting him.

Years ago, the girl Jett had been obsessed with his unattainable one true love had confessed her feelings for Kian.

Ever since, making Kian s life a living hell had become Jett s favorite pastime.

A cold, cruel smile spread across Jett s face. He s not just handsome, Lila, he said, his tone dangerously smooth. He can fight, too. Want to see?

Lila shrank back theatrically. Oh! W-wouldn t that be scary?

Jett pulled her closer. Not at all. It s just like watching dogs fight.

He turned and gestured for everyone to follow him toward the back courtyard.

As the crowd moved, I saw my chance. I slipped through the throng and fell into step beside Kian.
If you want to leave, I can get you out of here right now, I whispered quickly. I can give you whatever money you need. You don t have to put up with this.

Kian s stride faltered for a half-second. He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine. And what would be the price for that?

Before I could even think of a witty reply, he let out a short, self-deprecating laugh.
It doesn t matter. You re all the same family, anyway.

He flicked his eyes toward a nearby table. Sitting there, in an ornate, silver frame, was the wedding invitation for his boss and me.

&

Seriously? A wedding invitation at a birthday party? The Carvers were a special kind of sick.

04

I stood there for a moment, speechless.

*This is all your fault!* I raged at the System. *What kind of garbage identity did you stick me in? He just called me family with Jett. That s the most disgusting insult I ve ever heard!*

*It was an emergency! Anya s suicide was& unexpected! Don t worry, don t worry,* the System cooed, its tone shamelessly sycophantic. *My intel says you re a top-tier survivor. This might be a tough start for anyone else, but for you, it s a walk in the park. I wouldn t have picked you if I didn t know you could handle it!*

I couldn t help it. A smile tugged at my lips. *You ve got good taste.*

I hurried to catch up with the group. The other young heirs and their dates were already lounging on plush outdoor sofas.

The empty lawn in front of them had clearly been designated as the fighting ring.

Jett snapped his fingers. Same old rules. Anyone who can beat Kian gets a ten-thousand-dollar bonus.

A few seconds of silence. Nobody moved.

*They ve played this game so many times,* the System sighed. *They all know Kian will wipe the floor with them.*

That just made my heart ache for him even more.

He was so strong, yet forced by circumstance to be a plaything for-a-moron like Jett.

Jett scanned the crowd of bodyguards, his patience wearing thin. Thirty grand.

The other men, the security hired by Jett s friends, were starting to look interested. Their hands flexed.

Jett seized the moment. Fifty grand!

That did it. Someone stepped forward.

He was huge, a mountain of muscle and tattoos.

A flicker of worry sparked in me, but the System was quick to reassure me. *Don t worry. This guy can t beat Kian.*

It was right. In a blur of motion, the mountain of a man was on his back, gasping on the manicured grass before he even knew what hit him.

Wow, he s amazing! one of the girls nearby cheered for Kian.

Lila, nestled in Jett s arms, was trying her best to look bored, but her eyes were sparkling with admiration.

Jett s expression soured even further.

One of his sycophantic friends, a guy named Chase, noticed his mood and stood up, grinning.
Hey, Jett, your boy s got a solid build. Perfect for a human punching bag, he drawled. Don t worry, man, I won t hurt your property. How about this? For every punch he takes, I ll pay ten grand. What do you say?

Jett s mood instantly brightened. He leaned back into the sofa. Sounds good to me. I accept on his behalf.

He then shot a venomous smile at Kian. Don t fight back, now. Can t have Chase getting hurt. You couldn t afford to pay his medical bills.

Chase swaggered into the center of the lawn. Kian stood there, his body rigid, his expression resigned, clearly prepared to just take the beating.

That s when I spoke, my voice ringing out clear and sharp in the sudden silence.
Kian, I ll give you two hundred grand a punch. To hit back. And if Mr. Chase here accidentally dies& I ll cover the funeral expenses.

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