Page 39 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

My chest constricts. I want to see that happiness on her face more often. Want her to look at me the way she does when no one else is watching.

She murmurs something to the girl.

The girl’s face scrunches up as she tries not to cry. “Will you come back?”

The teary plea is a dagger to my heart.

“Of course.” Sophaya glances at me, her eyes brightening. “Actually, I have an idea. Dominic?”

I step forward. The little girl’s head swivels in my direction, a shy smile spreading across her thin face. Her head is shaven, her brown eyes large in her pale face. So innocent and far too young to be experiencing such hard challenges. Just like so many of the kids I ran with on the streets.

I crouch down. “I had to step outside to make a phone call, so I didn’t catch your name.”

“Rosalina,” the girl whispers shyly.

“Rosalina,” I repeat. “A beautiful name.”

Pink steels into her cheeks. “Merci.”

“I was thinking, Dominic, what if Rosalina was our flower girl? La demoiselle d’honneur?”

Rosalina’s eyes pop open as she whips her head around. “Vraiment?” When Sophaya nods, Rosalina squeals and flings herself into Sophaya’s arms. “Oui, oui!”

Sophaya laughs as she hugs Rosalina tight. “I’ll need to verify with your caseworker and your doctor, but I think they’ll both approve.”

I remember now. Rosalina isn’t just completing treatment for cancer. She’s also alone in this world, her mother disappearing shortly after she was born and her father passing in a car accident last year. An orphan like me.

Sophaya meets my eyes over Rosalina’s head and mouths a thank-you. A simple gratitude, yet one that makes me feel like I can conquer the world.

The door opens behind me. I rise and turn as Arthur, the head of palace security, walks in. Shorter than I am but with considerable muscle packed into his suit, the man’s record in the Siravellian military is impressive. After an honorable discharge for twenty years of service, he joined the palace security team and rose within the ranks to take over as head of security operations three years ago. His team had an impeccable record.

Until the stalker.

I walk over to him, ignoring the blatant hostility in his eyes. The man hasn’t liked me since the king and queen hired me to be Sophaya’s private bodyguard. But aside from a lone bodyguard who protected Sophaya while she was at university, they didn’t have the kind of experience I did, especially when it came to the man who’d managed to evade security for months and infiltrate the palace grounds. Yes, they finally caught him. But it never should have gone that far.

Yesterday, however, it became clear Arthur’s hatred of me went deeper than just feeling like I usurped his team’s role. He’s one of the few who knows about the baby. When I met with him to go over security for the wedding, he told me any suggestions about my own security would be ignored. I was no longer a bodyguard, and he had no interest in the opinion of someone who had slept with a client.

I let him have his temper tantrum. Decided to deal with him later.

But now, after what happened today, waiting is no longer an option.

“You wanted to see me?” he grinds out, keeping his voice low enough so Sophaya and Rosalina can’t hear.

“I did. Let’s step outside.” I brush past him without waiting for an answer, waiting until the door’s closed before I turn on him. “What the hell happened out there?”

Arthur puffs up like a damn blowfish. “There was a larger group than we anticipated—”

“Obviously.”

Arthur’s eyes narrow to slits. “Look, Hawke, I made it clear yesterday—”

“You made your opinions clear on my security.” I step closer. At least the bastard stands his ground. “But now we’re talking about her security. And on that, I have several opinions. Opinions,” I add menacingly, “I will share with the king and queen, along with my recommendation that you be removed as head of security unless you work with me.”

Arthur’s face turns an interesting shade of purple. “You can’t do that.”

“As His Royal Highness Prince Consort Dominic Hawke, which I will be in two weeks, I most certainly can.”

Arthur stares at me, incredibly still even as hate glints in his eyes. Then, slowly, he nods. “My apologies, Your Highness.”