There you are, baby.

Another day, another attempt to keep you alive long enough to finish the job I was hired for… even if, at this point, I can barely remember what that job was supposed to be.

Because instead of setting traps or plotting the perfect moment—I’m chasing after you down a crowded city street like some underpaid babysitter in a bulletproof vest.

🌆 The Target Wants to Go on a Date

You asked to go outside.

Not to escape.

Not to plead for your life.

Not even to bribe me with daddy’s money.

You just… wanted to walk around the city. Look at flowers. Visit a park. Taste some pastry cream so special you claimed it was “life-changing.”

And what did I say?

I said, “Miss, please slow down.”

Because the last thing I need is you walking straight into a lamppost like some sitcom princess in a sundress.

Which, of course… you did.

And then you fell into me.

Which… yeah, kind of ruined the whole intimidating assassin vibe I was going for, but we’ll just have to roll with it, won’t we, sweetheart?

💖 She’s Clumsy, Clueless… and Kind of Breaking Me

Angel, I’ve guarded CEOs. Mob bosses. Kings and criminals and everything in between.

But nothing prepared me for you.

You’re a walking accident in designer heels. A pastel-colored tornado of bad ideas and sugar cravings. You nearly tripped into traffic twice before we even made it to the damn swings.

And yet…

There you were, sitting on a park bench, eyes full of sunlight and wonder, admiring flowers like they held the secrets of the universe.

And I just stood there.

Watching you.

Realizing I was less worried about the danger around you…

…and more worried about the storm brewing inside me.

🔥 Who the Hell Was That Guy?

It was harmless.

Just some loser in a leather jacket.

Probably didn’t even know who you were.

But he looked at you.

He smiled at you.

And you smiled back.

And suddenly, the part of me that’s supposed to stay cold and calculated was burning hotter than hellfire. I told myself I didn’t care. That you were free to flirt with whoever you wanted.

But then I stepped in.

I put a hand on his shoulder.

And I smiled that smile I save for people I really want to make disappear.

He ran. Of course he did.

And you? You just blinked up at me, confused and cute as ever, asking if it was time to get pastries.

Miss, please stop looking at me like I’m your hero. I’m the damn villain in this story.

😂 That Laugh? You Heard It Right.

You made me laugh.

Not on purpose. You just said something ridiculous about the cream-filled pastries, and the sparkle in your eye was too much. Before I could stop myself—I laughed.

And you noticed.

You said it was the first time you’d ever heard it. That it sounded nice.

And I just sat there, chewing on something sweeter than I had any right to enjoy, trying to remember the last time anyone looked at me like I was human.

Trying to remember the last time I wanted them to.

🎁 “A Gift from a Friend”

You brought me food.

Didn’t ask. Didn’t wait.

Just showed up with two boxes and said one was for me.

I tried to protest.

Tried to remind you that I’m your bodyguard, not your buddy.

But you called me your friend.

And even though every fiber of my being wanted to reject it—because friendship means connection, and connection means weakness—I didn’t stop you.

I didn’t correct you.

I just took a bite.

And let the warmth sink in.

👀 He’s Still Watching Her. But It’s Not Just for Safety Anymore.

Sitting in that crowded café, I knew I should’ve been scanning the exits, watching for threats, preparing for the worst.

But all I could do was watch you.

You smiled at the people around you. You licked frosting off your finger. You talked about wanting to come back tomorrow—like this was some kind of budding romance and not a hit job I’d already been paid to finish.

And I just sat there.

Pretending it was okay.

Pretending I wasn’t already so far off-mission that I might never find my way back.

❓ So Now What, Sweetheart?

You still don’t know the truth.

You don’t know what I’m capable of.

You don’t know that your father hired me under false pretenses, or that there’s more to this job than just protection.

You don’t know that your days were numbered the moment I stepped into your house.

And yet here I am.

Buying pastries. Fending off creeps. Watching you twirl through the city like you own the sun.

Still catching you—every damn time you fall.

Still fighting this growing ache in my chest that I swear wasn’t part of the mission.

So what happens next, baby?

Do I finally pull the trigger?

Or do I keep following you through the city, hoping you never realize just how close you came to dying——at the hands of the man who just might love you instead?

💋 Daddy’s still watching.

This one’s for the girls who love soft danger.

For the ones who fall in love with the man who was never supposed to care.

For every sweetheart who turns an assassin into a bodyguard—and a bodyguard into something dangerously close to a boyfriend.

💬 Tell me, love—what do you think will happen next? Let’s chat in the comments.

This is Deep Voice Daddy.

And I'm all yours.

He Was Hired to Kill Her… So Why Is He Buying Her Pastries Instead? Pt. 2