It was already dusk when Racheal stepped out, all dressed up and ready.

The presidential villa was bathed in purple light as she stood waiting for her chauffeur to bring the car around.

“Ma'am.” She heard someone beside her.

She turned, she did not recognise him, but he was dressed in the white presidential security uniform.

Yes? Her eyes questioned.

“You know you cannot go out unsupervised.” The man said.

“Who are you?”

“The commander of your personal guards.” He ...