Chapter 1 - The Cold Front
The snow began falling over Denver at four in the afternoon, heavy, wet flakes that stuck to the tinted glass of the Mercer Dynamics building. Down on the street, traffic crawled through slush, but on the forty-sixth floor, the sound of the storm was muffled to a low, rhythmic murmur. Inside Evelyn Mercer’s office, the atmosphere was considerably colder than the weather outside.
Jonah stood three feet to the left of the massive oak doors, his posture disciplined, hands clasped loosely behind his back. His eyes swept the floor, tracking the movements of two junior associates who were nervously shuffling papers across the central conference table. Evelyn had been dissecting their quarterly supply-chain report for forty minutes, her voice cool, precise, and devoid of warmth.
"These vendor margins are offensive," Evelyn said, dropping a thick leather folder onto the desk with a sharp snap that made both associates jump. "We are paying forty percent above market rate for lithium supply lines through the South American corridor. Explain to me why I shouldn't replace your entire team by morning."
The lead associate, a young man in a tailored blue suit named Marcus, swallowed hard. "Ms. Mercer, the international tariffs shifted last month. The logistics providers insisted—"
"Logistics providers insist on whatever you allow them to insist on," Evelyn interrupted, her brown eyes narrowing as she picked up a silver pen. "You didn't negotiate. You panicked and signed off on terms that cost this company three point two million dollars. Leave the corrected numbers on my desk by eight tomorrow, or leave your security badges with the front desk."
The two men gathered their papers with trembling hands and practically sprinted from the room.
As the door clicked shut, Evelyn leaned back in her high-backed leather chair and massaged the bridge of her nose. Her gaze drifted toward Jonah, standing silently near the threshold.
"You're still here," she noted, her tone laced with mild irritation.
"That is the primary requirement of the job, Ms. Mercer," Jonah replied calmly.
Evelyn turned her chair slightly toward him, her sharp gaze sweeping over his charcoal suit. "You know, Reed, my father thinks you're a tactical genius. He told me you spent ten years in specialized operations before moving to private security. But looking at you, all I see is a man who doesn't know how to choose a tailor."
Jonah didn't blink. "A proper fit allows for full range of motion. Tight seams tear when you have to react quickly."
Evelyn let out a short, scoffing laugh. "React to what? A room full of accountants? You’re hyper-vigilant, Reed. It’s exhausting to look at. Relax your shoulders. You’re making the furniture look comfortable."
"My shoulders are fine."
"They're rigid. Just like your routine," she said, rising from her desk and walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the darkening city skyline. "My father is paranoid. The threats are coming from union agitators or fired contractors trying to scare a payout out of us. There is no mole inside Mercer Dynamics."
"The third threat contained details from your personal calendar that were updated at 2:14 PM last Tuesday," Jonah said, his voice level and steady. "The update was made from an encrypted IP address within this building. Only seven people have administrative access to that system."
Evelyn paused, her hand hovering near the glass. For a fraction of a second, her confident posture stiffened, but she quickly recovered, turning back to him with a cool smile. "Then fire the administrator. You don't need to stand six feet away from me every hour of the day."
"Your father contracted me to ensure your physical safety. Until he terminates that contract, I will remain within ten yards of you whenever you are outside your residence."
Evelyn stepped closer to him, her heel striking the polished concrete floor with sharp, deliberate clicks. She stopped just two feet away, forcing him to look down at her. Up close, Jonah could smell the subtle scent of jasmine and crisp rain on her skin. Her eyes were dark, fierce, and entirely unaccustomed to being defied.
"You like the paycheck, don't you?" she said softly, her voice dipping into a dangerous mock-sweetness. "My father pays well for loyalty. How much is he giving you to play babysitter?"
"He pays enough," Jonah said, keeping his expression entirely neutral.
"Enough to buy a car that doesn't leak oil on my garage floor?" she sneered, glancing toward the window where his old pickup truck was parked far below. "Or enough to buy a suit that wasn’t manufactured during the previous administration?"
Jonah met her gaze without a hint of anger or shame. "The paycheck covers what matters, Ms. Mercer."
Evelyn stared at him, searching his face for a tremor of irritation, a flash of resentment, anything that proved she had gotten under his skin. When she found nothing but unyielding calm, her mouth tightened into a hard line. She hated things she couldn't control, and Jonah Reed was entirely beyond her influence.
"We leave for the fundraiser at seven," she said sharply, turning her back on him and returning to her desk. "Make sure you stay out of the photographs. The press already thinks I'm condescending; I don't need them writing stories about my charity cases."
"Understood," Jonah said.
He stepped back toward the door, his phone vibrating silently in his pocket. He slipped it out and glanced at the screen. A text from his mother: Sophie’s blood pressure is up slightly tonight. Resting now. She asked if you’d be home to read Chapter Four.
May you like
Jonah typed a quick reply: Running late tonight. Tell her the knight makes it through the forest. Read it to her if she's awake.
He tucked the phone away and adjusted his cuffs. Outside, the blizzard hit the glass with a sharp, icy hiss, signaling the cold front that was slowly settling over the city.
