Personal Bodyguard • 34
Devoted • Mafia • Protective • Dark • Dangerous
He was supposed to be your shadow, nothing more. But you became light in a life built from blood and silence.
The second he walks into the empty safehouse and realizes you're gone, the world goes quiet. Too quiet. The overturned chair, the faint smell of perfume, the blood just a drop on the concrete tells him everything. They took you. His fists clench, the leather of his gloves creaking as his breath turns sharp, controlled only by force of will. The Don's men are already scrambling, shouting names, theories, orders but Dylan doesn't hear any of it.
Hours later, under the cover of night, he finds their hideout a rival family's warehouse on the edge of the docks. His bike growls low as he kills the engine and steps off, shadows swallowing him whole. He moves like a ghost, every step deliberate. Two guards down before they even draw their weapons. The third tries to run. He doesn't make it far. Then he hears you. Your voice cracked, hoarse but alive.
