Chapter One- Should We Call This A Goodnews????
Ethan +++++
"Congratulations! You have passed the first step to becoming the personal bodyguard for Logan's Enterprise."
I read it out loud, then let out the ugliest scoff ever. My stomach actually twisted like I was gonna throw up right there.
"Congratulations my ass."
"First step? Are you fucking kidding me?"
I tossed my phone onto the bed and dragged a hand down my face.
First step.
Just the first.
I hadn't even passed everything yet.
I stood there for a moment, staring at nothing, irritation slowly building in my chest.
"Why the hell won't these people just call me when I'm actually hired?" I muttered under my breath, already annoyed.
All this stress… for a bodyguard position?
I always thought you just sent your application, they called you for one interview, asked dumb questions like "Can you handle stress?" and boom — hired. But nope. These bastards had turned it into a damn obstacle course.
With the way they were dragging this thing, it felt like I was applying to run the damn company, not protect one man.
They were acting like becoming his bodyguard was some kind of sacred honor. Like people should be grateful just to breathe the same air as him.
The only thing that actually mattered was getting hired. Inside his house, life and close enough that when the moment came, he wouldn't even see it coming.
⸻
My thoughts were still running wild when my phone suddenly started ringing.
I glanced at it, then deliberately walked the other way — straight towards the bathroom
Whoever it was could wait. I hated being rushed.
I grabbed a towel and headed straight for the bathroom, ignoring the ringing completely.
If it was important, they'd call back.
If not… even better.
I hated being rushed, especially in the morning.
⸻
I pushed the bathroom door open and stepped inside, the cool tiles brushing against my feet..
I hung the towel on the rack and moved toward the bathtub, stepping in slowly for half a second before I groaned. "Nah… I'd rather just shower."
Every morning, it was the same thing.
Bathtub or shower?
And somehow, it always felt like a serious life decision.
I let out a small scoff.
"Maybe I should hire someone just to decide that for me," I muttered.
The thought almost made me laugh.
I climbed back out, flipped the shower on, and let the hot water beat down on my shoulders.
Steam filled the bathroom fast. This was the only good part of my mornings lately — standing here, letting the water wash away the nightmares.
For two whole minutes I didn't think about how I was about to sell my soul pretending to protect the man who burned everything I loved.
I scrubbed harder than necessary. "This better put me in a decent mood for that meeting later," I muttered to the tiles. "Last thing I need is to walk in there looking like I wanna murder someone."
After what felt like forever , I shut the water off, tied the towel low around my hips, and padded back into the bedroom. Water dripped down my back.
I stopped in front of the full-length mirror and just… looked at myself.
My reflection stared back at me.
Unreadable.
Not the same person from seven years ago. I definitely looked more hotter and sexier.
⸻
I was still looking at myself in the mirror with my head filled with different thoughts when my phone suddenly started ringing
"Who the actual hell calls this early?" I growled, frowning at the ceiling
I glanced toward the bed, irritation crawling back.
It wasn't even that early, but anyone who had my number knew the rule: no morning calls unless the building was literally on fire.
Even if the building is on fire, the fire fighters should be called not me.
I clicked my tongue, ready to ignore it again.
But the moment it stopped…
It started ringing again.
I froze.
"Persistent bastard," I muttered as I let out a long, annoyed breath.
I dragged my feet over to my bed, snatched the phone off the bed, and checked the screen.
Unknown number.
I stared at it for a second, trying to see if it looked familiar.
Nothing.
If I actually saved contacts like a normal person, maybe I wouldn't have this problem.
I rolled my eyes and answered, placing it against my ear without saying a word.
If they wanted to talk, they could start first.
⸻
A nervous male voice finally cracked through. "Hello, boss?"
I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear
I didn't even try to hide the annoyance. "Why in the world's name are you calling me this morning? You know I hate morning calls."
"Or do you by any chance have a death wish?"
"O-Oh! I'm so sorry, boss!" he stammered immediately.
"I couldn't hold it anymore. I had to tell you—"
"Hold what?" I cut in, walking to my closet while still dripping water everywhere.
"What exactly couldn't you hold for a few hours?"
"The application, boss! You passed! You actually passed the first round!"
He screamed it so loud I had to yank the phone away from my ear or risk going deaf.
"Lower your voice," I said coldly. "I like my hearing."
"S-Sorry!"
I brought the phone back to my ear.
Then I sighed.
"Why are you this excited? I haven't even done the second interview yet. You're hyped like you're the one getting the job, not me."
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he rushed out, still sounding breathless.
"I was just so nervous when I sent it in. You told me if you didn't pass, you'd start with my fingernails — shortest to longest — and then my neck. I literally prayed over the keyboard, boss. Like, actual prayers."
I paused, one hand. "Did I really say that?"
"You did! You looked me dead in the eye and said it."
"I snorted. "Well… if I said it, then I said it. But don't start celebrating yet. I still got to get through the rest. They haven't even called me for the second interview. They said they'd 'get back to me.'"
I made air quotes even though he couldn't see. "So calm your ass down before I actually start thinking about those fingernails."
He went quiet.
"But boss—
"Hush."
I pulled the phone away slightly as it vibrated in my hand.
It was a text message.
I glanced down at the screen.
And I frozed
"Congratulations, Mr. Ethan! You have successfully qualified for the second interview. Please report to Logan Tower, Suite 1201, 87 Riverside Avenue, in exactly two hours for your assessment."
I stared at the words until they blurred. Then I barked out a laugh that didn't sound right even to me.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Boss?" the voice called from the other end.
I ran a hand through my damp hair, already feeling irritation rise again.
"How the hell…" I muttered.
"Boss, what happened?"
"How the hell am I supposed to attend an interview in the next two hours," I snapped, "when I have a meeting that I need to attend in the next two hours!!!"