Chapter Six: Looking For A Bodyguard
Diane spent her second night in a new home, alone.
But it didn't bother her, this way, she har more peace to plot her revenge.
Her laptop was open in front of her.
Sipping her tea thoughtfully, scrolling through a list of private security companies.
She had been researching for hours and finally landed on a good firm that specialised in providing 24/7 bodyguard services.
Their website seemed professional, promising confidentiality, top-tier training, and tailored protection services.
Diane clicked the "Contact Us" button and dialed the number listed.
The phone rang twice before a polite, professional woman answered.
"Raven Shield Security. How may I assist you today?"
"Yes, hel-hello," Diane stuttered for a second. "I'm looking to hire a live-in bodyguard. Someone experienced, discreet, and reliable."
"Of course, ma'am," the woman replied smoothly. "We'll need you to fill out some documents online to outline your preferences and requirements. You'll also be able to review profiles and select the candidate that suits you best."
"That sounds perfect," Diane said.
"Once you've completed the application," the woman continued, "we'll require you to visit our office to finalise the paperwork and make the payment. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes, absolutely! I'll get started on the application right away."
"Wonderful. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call us. Thank you for choosing Raven Shield Security."
Diane ended the call and leaned back in her chair, exhaling softly.
This was another step forward—another way to ensure her safety and independence.
She had learned the hard way in her previous life that she couldn't rely on anyone else to protect her.
She opened the company's online application and began filling in the details. It asked for basic information at first, then more specific preferences:
Do you require armed or unarmed protection? Armed. What level of discretion do you expect from your bodyguard? Absolute. Would you prefer a male or female bodyguard? Either. Do you have any specific requirements or expectations? Must be willing to live on-site and remain professional at all times.
As she worked her way through the forms, she felt her phone vibrate on the table.
She glanced at the screen, "shit."
It was Adrian...
Her muscles moved, but she forced herself to stay calm.
She picked up the phone and opened the message.
Adrian: -Did you sleep with him? Did he touch you?-
Her lips curled into a bitter smirk.
Of course, Adrian couldn't leave her alone.
He had always been possessive, even in their past life.
He had treated her like a tool, a mouse, but the moment she had wanted independence, he had become obsessed with controlling her.
She ignored the message and went back to her application, but a moment later, her phone buzzed again.
Adrian: -Answer me!-
Diane's jaw tightened as she stared at the screen. She tapped out a single word in reply.
Diane: -Yes.-
She hit send, watching the little "delivered" notification pop up.
Then, without hesitation, she blocked his number.
For the first time in years—across two lives—she felt in control.
A few hours later, Diane was sitting in the backseat of Gabriel's sleek black car, the city skyline rising ahead of her.
She had asked the driver to take her to Raven Shield Security's headquarters, and he had complied without question.
The ride was smooth and quiet.
Her phone stayed silent, Adrian's messages would no longer be sent to her.
She allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction.
The car came to a stop outside a tall, modern building with the company's logo etched into the glass doors.
The driver opened the door for her, and she stepped out, smoothing the fabric of her simple but elegant dress.
Inside, the lobby was minimalistic, with black leather chairs and polished stone floors.
A receptionist greeted her with a warm smile.
"Welcome to Raven Shield Security. Do you have an appointment?"
"Yes," Diane said. "I spoke with someone this morning about hiring a bodyguard. I'm here to finalise the paperwork and make the payment."
"Of course," the receptionist replied, typing something into her computer. "Your name, please?"
"Diane Hof-," she paused, "Diane Frost."
"Of course, Mrs. Frost. Please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly."
Diane's stomach gurgled slightly at the use of her married name, but she said nothing.
She sat in one of the leather chairs, confidently.
Within minutes, a tall, sharp-suited man approached her, extending his hand.
"Mrs. Frost, I'm Mr. Daniels, the director of client services. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," Diane said, shaking his hand firmly.
"Shall we head to my office to go over the details?"
"Of course," Diane smiled, rising gracefully from her seat.
Mr. Daniels led her to a spacious, well-lit office where a stack of papers awaited her on the desk.
"We've reviewed your application," he said as they sat down. "I believe we have several candidates who would fit your needs perfectly. Once the paperwork is signed, we'll send you their profiles for review."
"Excellent," Diane said, picking up the pen he offered her.
She skimmed the contract briefly before signing at the indicated spots.
"And the payment?" Mr. Daniels asked once the paperwork was complete.
Diane reached for her purse and retrieved a check, writing the amount without hesitation.
The wedding guests' combined money gifts had amounted to over a million dollars, and Gabriel had made it clear in her previous life that he didn't care about such things.
She was certain he wouldn't mind her using it now.
Mr. Daniels accepted the check with a polite nod.
"Thank you, Mrs. Frost. We'll be in touch shortly with the profiles. Once you've made your selection, your chosen bodyguard will report to your residence within 24 hours."
Diane's lips formed into a smile again. "Thank you for your efficiency."
"It's what we pride ourselves on," Mr. Daniels stated, rising to escort her out.
As she walked back to the car, the butterflies were dancing in her belly.
She had taken another step toward reclaiming her life, securing her safety, and ensuring her independence.
The driver opened the car door for her once again, and as she slid into the backseat, she allowed herself to laugh.
But it didn't last long until the car started moving, "Mrs. Diane, someone is following us."