“Perhaps,” Mr. Kingsley says carefully, “we could discuss what specific incidents have led to this…clash.”
Wyatt’s jaw tightens. “Does it matter? I don’t want him around anymore.”
His parents exchange a look. Then Mr. Kingsley turns to Daniela and me. “Would you give us a few minutes with our son, please?”
“Of course,” Daniela says smoothly. “Mr. Holt, would you join me inside?”
I follow her through the French doors into a wood-paneled study. Daniela closes the door behind us, then turns to me with her arms folded.
“What happened?” No preamble. That’s one thing I’ve always appreciated about her.
“I removed Mr. Kingsley from a situation last night that could have resulted in legal trouble.”
“Removed how?” Her eyes narrow.
“Physically.”
“Gray.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Tell me you didn’t hurt him.”
“I carried him out. Over my shoulder. His friends were about to do cocaine in plain view of several cameras. It was the quickest exit strategy.”
Daniela closes her eyes briefly. When she opens them, there’s a weariness there I haven’t seen before. “And now he wants you gone.”
“Seems that way. Maybe it’s for the best. This arrangement isn’t working for either of us.”
She runs a hand over her ponytail. “You know how hard it was to find someone for this position? Before you, there were three others in as many months.”
I frown. “Three?”
“Wyatt drives them away. All of them. Sometimes it’s complaints about invasion of privacy. Sometimes it’s claims of incompetence. He doesn’t want anyone watching him, reporting back to his father. So he makes their lives hell until they quit or he gets them fired.”
The information slots into place, making a clearer picture of the spoiled brat I’ve been guarding. “So I’m just the latest victim.”
“You’re my last resort.” She leans against the desk. “Look, I know this isn’t what you signed up for. And I know you took this job because you needed it, not because you wanted to babysit a rich kid. But I’m asking you, as a friend and as someone who has fought beside you, to give it another shot. We can adjust the parameters, set clearer boundaries. Just…don’t let him win this one.”
I study her face. The face of someone who pulled me out of more than one firefight, who I trust with my life. I owe her. But this job…
“I don’t know, Dani.”
“Please, Gray. For me. For our history.”
I exhale slowly. “Fine. One more chance.”
She squeezes my arm. “Thank you.”
A soft knock on the door interrupts us. The staff member from before appears. “Mr. Kingsley would like you to rejoin them.”
We follow him back to the veranda, where the atmosphere has visibly shifted. Mr. Kingsley sits straighter, Mrs. Kingsley looks relieved, and Wyatt…Wyatt looks like someone who’s lost a battle but is planning to win the war.
“We’ve had a productive conversation,” Mr. Kingsley announces. “And we’ve agreed that Mr. Holt will continue his duties for the time being, with some adjustments to be discussed later.”
I nod, keeping my expression neutral. “Very good, sir.”
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Kingsley claps her hands together. “Now, shall we have lunch? The chef has prepared that salmon you love, Wyatt.”
Wyatt doesn’t respond. His eyes are fixed on me, cold and calculating. I meet his gaze evenly. Let him know I’m not intimidated.
“Why don’t you sit, Mr. Holt?” Mrs. Kingsley gestures to an empty chair. “You must be hungry as well.”
