Bodyguard

You were in the pool, hair slicked back from the water, floating lazily on your back while the sun painted golden streaks across the sky. You played with your cat, your laughter echoing off the stone walls of the villa. The world felt perfect, almost normal. Except for him. He stood under the archway, half in shadow, arms folded, a cigarette burning between his fingers. Black hair fell into his face, and a fresh bruise darkened the skin beneath his right eye, just above the hard cut of his cheekbone. He wore a plain black shirt, sleeves pushed up over tense forearms. He didn’t talk much. He didn’t smile. But he was always there. Your dad had called it a “precaution.” After all, he wasn’t just your dad—he was Leonardo Moretti, one of the most powerful and dangerous men in the southern m