Chapter 97
The morning light streamed through the kitchen window, soft and golden, spilling across the marble counters. The smell of toasted bread and scrambled eggs filled the air but the warmth of it all did not reach Jace’s chest. Not really. The house had felt too quiet lately, like every sound echoed just a little too long before fading.
He checked the time again, tapping the countertop impatiently. 7:48 a.m.
“Mila!” he called up the stairs. “If you don’t come down right now, you’ll be late for school!”
His voice bounced off the walls, met with silence for a heartbeat then the quick patter of small feet thundered down the staircase.
“I’m here, I’m here!” Mila’s curls bounced as she raced into the kitchen, pink backpack slung over one shoulder. She stopped short when she spotted the man standing near Jace. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a pressed black suit.
She froze mid-step, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“Daddy,” she whispered, tugging lightly at his shirt. “Who’s that?”
Jace smiled faintly, though his pulse gave a nervous jump. “Oh, sweetie,” he said gently, “this is going to be your new bodyguard. Someone to keep you safe.”
Mila blinked. Then frowned. “But I can keep myself safe, Daddy. I’m a strong girl.”
He crouched down to her level, brushing a stray curl from her face. “I know, baby. You’re the strongest girl I know.” His smile faltered just a little. “But sometimes even strong girls need a little help.”
She crossed her arms, lips pursed. “I don’t need protection, Daddy. I don’t like him.”
“Mila ” He sighed, straightening up, his patience thinning but his tone still soft. “Baby, you need him. That’s the only way I can feel relaxed while you’re far away from me.”
“I don’t like him,” she repeated firmly, stamping her small foot for emphasis.
Before Jace could respond, the bodyguard, Morgan crouched down, meeting Mila’s glare with a calm smile. His eyes were kind, his voice warm. “Hey there,” he said. “I’m Morgan. You must be Mila.”
She didn’t answer. Just looked at him with her fiercest scowl, lips pressed tight.
Morgan chuckled softly, undeterred. “You don’t have to be mad at your dad,” he said. “He’s doing this because he loves you. I promise you won’t even know I’m here most of the time. I’ll just be your shadow, okay?”
Still no reaction.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out. “You know,” he said, voice casual, “I happened to find this lying around, and I don’t really have anyone to give it to.”
In his hand was a tiny Barbie still in its packaging, it had blonde hair, a glittery pink dress and a wide smile.
Mila’s scowl cracked. Her eyes widened a fraction, curiosity winning over pride.
Morgan tilted his head, pretending to examine the toy. “Hmm,” he said. “I guess I could just keep it. But that seems kinda boring.” He looked up at her. “Do you want it?”
Mila hesitated then reached out and took it carefully, clutching it to her chest like a secret treasure.
“I accept your offer,” she said solemnly. “You can follow me.” She started toward the door, chin high. “For now.”
Morgan bit back a laugh. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, standing.
Jace exhaled a quiet breath of relief, smiling for the first time that morning. “Thank you,” he said. “That was… impressive.”
Morgan shrugged lightly. “Occupational skill I guess.... Disarming people’s what I do best.”
“Yeah,” Jace said softly, eyes flicking toward Mila’s retreating figure. “I can tell.”
They both moved toward the entryway. The morning sun poured in through the open door, washing the living room in pale light. Outside, the car waited– sleek, black, and gleaming. Two more guards stood by, one near the gate, another near the car door.
Mila was already waiting by the steps, clutching her Barbie and tapping her foot impatiently. “Come on, Daddy!”
“I’m coming, love,” Jace said, grabbing her lunchbox. He turned back to Morgan. “How much was the doll? I’ll pay you back.”
Morgan shook his head. “You don’t need to.”
“I insist,” Jace said. “You didn’t have to ”
“It’s fine,” Morgan cut in gently, with a smile that somehow carried more sincerity than words. “Really. Consider it a peace offering.”
Jace studied him for a moment, his calmness in his tone, the way Morgan carried himself. Something about the man felt trustworthy. He was grateful for that.
“Thanks,” Jace said finally. “Really.”
“No problem, I love kids,” Morgan said lightly, his smile warm and easy.
Then came the silence. A pause long enough to feel awkward. His eyes widened slightly as the meaning of his own words caught up with him. “Oh, that’s not what I meant I mean ”
Jace burst out laughing, the sound smooth and unrestrained. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said, still grinning. The tension in the air broke instantly, replaced with something softer.
Morgan rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed a faint pink. “Okay… good. Because that came out totally wrong.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jace said, the corners of his mouth lifting again. “Let’s not keep Mila waiting.”
“Yeah… right.”
They both started toward the car. The air between them felt strange not uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken. The sun was beginning to dip, painting gold streaks across the street as Jace walked a few steps ahead.
He could feel Morgan’s presence behind him, quiet but steady, like an echo of something he couldn’t place. The scent of Morgan’s cologne subtle, clean and familiar drifted toward him on the evening breeze.
And then, without meaning to, Jace found himself glancing back. Morgan was there, leaning against the car door, waiting for him with that easy, crooked smile. Something about it tugged at the edge of his memory.
As he opened the passenger door, a strange warmth bloomed in Jace’s chest. He couldn’t explain it, why Morgan’s voice, his laugh, even the way he walked, all felt like déjà vu.
Sliding into the seat, he tried to shake it off. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just familiarity born of kindness.
But as the engine started, one thought lingered
Why did Morgan feel so familiar?