He Calls It Security, I Call It Seduction

VALERIE

"Goodbye, Dad. I've got it from here," I say, gathering my bags as the Bentley slows to a stop in front of the NYU residence hall.

"Valerie, wait." My father's voice has that commanding tone he uses in board meetings. "There's something we need to discuss before you go."

I pause with my hand on the door handle as rain drums against the roof. Freedom is literally steps away, and he chooses now to have a conversation?

"What is it? I'm getting soaked just thinking about going out there,” I complain.

Dad clears his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. It’s not a common expression for Robert Reynolds, CEO of Reynolds Industries.

"You won't be staying in the dorms," he says flatly.

"What? Since when?" My voice rises sharply. We've been planning this for months. It’s my one chance to live somewhat normally despite having a father who’s a billionaire.

"Since I received these." He pulls out his phone, scrolls, and then hands it to me.

The image on the screen makes my blood run cold. It's me, in my bedroom, changing clothes. The photo was taken through my window. From my private, third-floor bedroom.

"When—" My voice catches.

"Three days ago. Along with a note." He doesn't elaborate, but his tense expression tells me everything. "There have been threats, Valerie. Serious ones."

I hand back the phone, suddenly feeling violated and exposed. "So you're stashing me somewhere?" I ask.

"Not exactly," Dad replies, nodding toward the window.

Standing in the rain is a tall figure holding a black umbrella. Even with the downpour obscuring my view, I can make out broad shoulders and a stance that screams authority.

"Who's that?"

"Brian Anderson. My head of security."

My heart sinks. "The robot with a pulse? Dad, no."

"He's the best in the business. Brian is ex-military. He'll be staying with you in an apartment near campus."

"You can't be serious,” I protest, staring at him in disbelief. "I'm not living with your bodyguard! I'm nineteen, not nine!"

"This isn't up for debate," Dad says. There’s finality in his tone. "Your safety is my priority."

I throw open the car door and step into the rain, not caring that I'm getting drenched. The cold drops feel refreshing against my heated skin.

"Valerie!" Dad calls after me, but I'm already striding toward the building, the rain plastering my auburn hair to my face.

Heavy footsteps approach from behind, and suddenly the rain stops hitting me. I look up to see the black umbrella now positioned over my head.

"Miss Reynolds," says a deep voice. "I'm Brian Anderson."

I turn to face him, taking in the full impact of his presence. Photos don’t do him justice. He towers over me, at least 6'3, with a build that showcases his strength. His gray eyes assess me professionally. His dark hair is cut short, and it emphasizes a strong jawline with just enough stubble to look rugged. A thin scar runs along his left temple.

"I know who you are," I snap. "You're the guy ruining my college experience before it even starts."

His expression doesn't change as he says, "I'm the guy keeping you alive."

"Valerie," my father calls. He has already exited the car. His expensive suit is getting soaked, but he doesn't seem to care. "Be reasonable."

Students passing by are starting to stare.

Great, that’s just what I need. To be the center of campus gossip on day one.

"Reasonable?" I ask with a laugh. It sounds harsh even to my own ears. "You promised me a normal college experience, Dad. One semester of just being a regular student."

"Circumstances have changed," he says, approaching us. "I'm not asking you to give up college. Just to take precautions."

"By having your robot babysit me?" I glance at Brian, who remains expressionless despite my remark.

"I'd prefer 'security specialist,'" Brian says dryly.

I ignore him. "This is humiliating, Dad. What am I supposed to tell people? That my daddy's so controlling he hired a personal watchdog to keep tabs on me?" I question.

"Tell them I'm your roommate," Brian suggests. His tone is matter-of-fact.

"You're old enough to be my—" I catch myself before saying "father," realizing how close in age they probably are. "You're thirty-something. Nobody will believe that."

"Thirty-five," he corrects. "And people will believe what they want, regardless of what you tell them. Our utmost concern is your safety."

"Listen to him, Valerie," Dad pleads. Rain is streaming down his face now. "These threats... they're not just against me or the company. They're specifically targeting you."

Something in his voice makes me pause. I've never heard him sound scared before.

"How bad is it?" I ask quietly.

Dad and Brian exchange a look.

"Bad enough that we're having this conversation in the rain instead of inside your dorm," Brian answers.

Dad steps closer, lowering his voice. "They've been watching you, Val. The photos they sent, there were others too. More... intimate ones."

The violation hits me again, and it’s harder this time. Someone has been photographing me in private moments, in my own bedroom. I feel naked suddenly.

"The apartment has state-of-the-art security," Brian explains. "And I'll be there to ensure no one gets close enough to hurt you."

"But my classes—"

"You'll attend them as normal," Dad assures me. "Brian will maintain a discreet distance. To the outside world, you'll just be another freshman. But you'll be protected."

As I look between them, I suddenly feel trapped. "For how long will this arrangement last?" I ask.

"Until we identify and neutralize the threat," Brian replies.

"Which means?"

"It means," Dad interjects, "I need you to trust me. Just for now."

Students continue to stream past us, laughing and chatting. They seem oblivious to our drama, and that’s exactly what I want. I don’t like to have too much attention on me.

But this was supposed to be my fresh start, my chance to be someone other than Robert Reynolds' daughter.

"Fine," I finally relent as the fight goes out of me. "I’m agreeing to this arrangement temporarily. But I have some conditions."

Brian raises an eyebrow, which I choose to interpret as interest.

"You have to stay out of my way," I tell him. "I go to classes, make friends, and do normal college things. No hovering."

"Within reason," he agrees.

"And this arrangement is just until you catch whoever's behind the threats,” I state.

Dad looks relieved. "Of course," he replies.

"One more thing," I add, fixing my gaze on Brian. "Don't think for a second that I'm happy about this or that we're friends. You're an intrusion in my life, nothing more."

His expression remains neutral, but something flickers in those gray eyes of his. Amusement, maybe?

"Understood, Miss Reynolds."

"It's Valerie," I correct him, before I turn to my father. "I'm guessing my stuff is already at this apartment?"

Dad nods. "We moved everything this morning."

Of course, they did. My life had been rearranged without my consent. Again.

"Then I guess we're done here." I grab my backpack from the sidewalk.

Brian takes my other bag before I can protest. "The car is this way."

I follow him, glancing back once to see my father watching us, the rain still soaking his expensive suit. For a moment, I feel guilty for how I spoke to him. Then I remember that he's putting me under guard with a stranger, and the guilt quickly evaporates.

As we approach a sleek black SUV, I feel the weight of eyes on me. Not just Brian's professional assessment or my father's worried gaze. Something else.

I scan the crowd of students, the row of parked cars, and the buildings across the street.

For a moment, I swear I see a camera lens pointed our way, but when I blink, it's gone.