Chapter One
Lauren
They say time heals all wounds.
Whoever said that never bled from the heart.
They say time changes everything.
They're wrong.
Time doesn't change you,it just teaches you how to hide the damage better. How to breathe through the pain, smile when you're breaking, and shoot without hesitation.
My name is Lauren Vale. At least, that's what the ID badge says. Agent. Instructor. One of the top field evaluators at Dominion, the most elite bodyguard training agency on the East Coast. People here think I'm sharp, calculated, unshakable.
They don't know I used to be Zara.
They don't know that four years ago, I was just a girl who believed in first love, Saturday drives, and the safety of arms that weren't built to hold me.
Now, I teach rookies how to disarm a threat in under five seconds. How to take a hit and stay standing. How to read a lie from twenty feet away.
I don't talk much, but when I do, they listen.
There's power in silence. People lean into it, try to break it. But silence is a weapon if you know how to use it.
It's been four years since prom night, the night everything I thought was real collapsed beneath me. The night Liam Hunter looked me in the eyes and delivered a lie so cruel it cracked something permanent inside me.
I haven't spoken to him since. I haven't needed to.
Lauren Vale doesn't cry over boys. She doesn't trust charming smiles or fall for pretty eyes. She survives. She thrives. She protects.
But that doesn't mean she forgets.
I finish my evaluation round just before sunset. The recruits clear out of the simulation room, their faces flushed with sweat and pride, not knowing they still have years before they'll carry real weight on their shoulders. I keep my expression unreadable as I jot down scores on my clipboard.
"Another clean run," my supervisor, Theo, says as he joins me by the glass. "They're scared of you, you know."
"Good."
He chuckles. "You ever take a day off, Vale?"
I hand him the clipboard without answering. No point in telling him that rest is dangerous when you're running from ghosts.
Back at my apartment, I shower, make tea, and sit by the window, letting the city hum around me. From here, I can almost pretend I'm just another woman living a quiet life.
Then my phone buzzes.
Theo—Supervisor.
I swipe to answer. "Vale."
"The boss needs you. Now," Theo says. His voice clipped, urgent. "Briefing room three."
I straighten. "What for?"
"Didn't say. But he looked serious. Like red-zone serious."
The line clicks dead.
I am already moving.
Heart steady. Mind clear.
Whatever it is, I can handle it. That's what I do.
Because there's only one thing dangerous than a girl who's broken,
Is the woman she becomes when she decides never to be again.
The halls of Dominion are quiet at this hour,dim lights, polished floors, the faint echo of steel-toed boots down the corridor. Most agents have clocked out by now. Not me. Not the boss.
And apparently… not whoever's waiting for me in Briefing Room Three.
I push the door open without knocking.
Boss stands at the far end, his back straight, arms folded. He's rarely flustered, but there's something different in his eyes tonight. Alert. Calculated.
Then I see the man beside him.
And my pulse falters.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Sharp suit. A scar over his left brow that wasn't there four years ago. His presence fills the room like smoke. Like power.
And history.
Liam's father.
Charles Hunter. I knew him once, in the vague way teenage girls know the powerful, intimidating fathers of the boys they love.
Except I don't feel like a girl anymore.
And this man is not here for a social call.
My spine stiffens. I shut the door behind me and approach. "Sir," I say to my boss with a curt nod. Then, colder: "Didn't know we were entertaining civilians."
I saw Charles' face drop at my words but I didn't care.
He didn't recognize me because of the nose mask I was wearing, not that I cared any way.
My boss clears his throat. "Lauren, Mr. Hunter here needs a personal bodyguard for his son. He gave his requirements and it matches you perfectly."
My eyes darted to Charles for a second but before I could speak, he beat me to it.
He squints his eyes and turns to my boss. "This is your recommendation?"
"She's our best," my boss says evenly.
Charles raises an eyebrow. "I need a bodyguard. Not a wife."
The jab hangs in the air, stale and sour.
My spine stiffens, but I don't flinch. My boss clears his throat, his voice sharp. "Agent Vale has logged more successful assignments than anyone in her division. She's protected CEOs in war zones, extracted diplomats from live attacks, and taught half the agents on your original list."
Charles looks me up and down again. "No offense, but I need someone who can handle my son. Liam is reckless. He won't listen to a babysitter."
I take a step forward, slow and measured, and fix him with a stare cold enough to make most men falter. "I'm sorry sir, but if your son was a man enough you wouldn't be here today, begging someone to protect him."
The silence that follows is sharp and instant.
Charles's expression hardens, eyes flashing like a switchblade. And just as fast…
He draws.
I see the movement before the barrel lifts, hear the soft click of the safety coming off as he raises a matte black pistol and presses it against my forehead.
My boss swears under his breath. "Charles…"
But I don't move. I don't breathe faster. I don't flinch.
My eyes stay locked on his, emotionless.
"I've been threatened by better men than you," I say quietly.
A long beat passes. Tension coils tight in the room.
Then, without warning, Charles laughs. Low and humorless at first, then with a real edge of something like… respect.
He lowers the gun. Steps back.
"Fine," he says, chuckling darkly. "I like her." He turns to my boss. "She'll do."
I don't smile.
Not when I win. Not even when I survive.
The door barely finishes swinging shut behind Charles Hunter when I turn to my boss. My voice is steady, sharp, and leaves no room for discussion.
"I'll take the assignment."
He exhales, like he's been holding his breath since I walked in. "Good. You'll be briefed tonight..."
"But I have a condition."
That stops him cold.
I take a step closer to the table, lay both hands on the surface, and speak low but firm. "He doesn't touch the mask. Ever. He doesn't ask about it. He doesn't question it. If he forces me to take it off…."
I straighten, eyes locking with my boss's.
"I walk."
Silence follows. Taut.
He studies me for a moment. "You know that's going to draw attention. He's not blind."
"Then let him wonder," I say. "But the mask stays."
Before he can speak again, the door swings open. Charles Hunter steps back in, something in his hand, likely a document he forgot. But he pauses, catching the tail end of our exchange.
"What's this about a mask?" he asks, tone sharp.
I turn to him slowly. "My condition. Your son doesn't ask about it. He doesn't try to remove it. You want him protected, he plays by my rules too."
Charles stares at me. "You really think he'll listen?"
"I don't care if he does," I reply. "I care that you do. If he crosses that line…..I'm gone."
A beat of silence. Then, to my surprise, Charles grins. Not mockingly. Not cold. But with something like grudging admiration.
"Fine," he says. "You're serious about boundaries. Good. He could use someone like that."
He leaves again, this time for real.
My boss just nods slowly. "You've made your point. We'll add the clause to the contract."
I don't speak.
My boss exhales once the door closes behind him. "You always have to push people like that?"
I glance at him. "If they break that easily, they don't belong in a room with me."
He huffs, almost smiling. "God help his son."
No.
God help me.
Because Liam Hunter has no idea the ghost he left behind is about to walk back into his life,
Stronger. Colder. Armed with a purpose.
And a name he won't recognize.