Chapter 6 Two Jobs

“Her bodyguard?!” Richard snapped as he and Clara walked in, both frowning. "Who are you trying to fool? Her bodyguards are Mark and Chris," Clara narrowed her eyes. “They had an emergency at home and asked me to cover for them at the last minute,” Stefano replied smoothly. The intensity in his cold gaze dared them to challenge his explanation. He exchanged a quick glance with Luca. Luca understood the silent order and slipped out to make sure Chris and Mark vanished — turning Stefano's lie into reality. “Wait...” Richard’s eyes widened in sudden realization. “Are you the Italian mogul, Stefano Lombardi?” Luca, who had just returned after texting his men, coughed awkwardly, but Stefano remained completely unfazed. "I get that a lot," he said calmly. "People often mistake me for the billionaire tycoon, but if I had billions in my account, why would I be working as your daughter's bodyguard?" "Yeah, he just looks a little similar and has the same name," Luca blurted out with an awkward laugh, making Stefano clench his jaw. “I only share the first name, Stefano. My surname is Carter — Stefano Carter.” He delivered the lie effortlessly. His grandmother was an American, and Carter was her surname. Richard studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. “Alright, Stefano. I expect you to do your job properly. Now, stand outside the room.” Stefano was satisfied—they had bought his lie. Without another word, he and Luca left, leaving Leah alone with Richard and Clara. As soon as the door closed, Clara stormed toward Leah, her eyes blazing with fury. Without warning, she slapped Leah hard across the cheek. "You bloody bitch!" she hissed. Leah's head snapped to the side, her eyes wide in shock. She had thought they were here because they were concerned about her. "Always causing trouble for us! Why can't you just die and rid us of your misery?" Clara spat through gritted teeth. Tears welled up in Leah's eyes, spilling down her flushed cheeks. Her lips trembled as she clutched her throbbing face. Her heart was still reeling from the trauma of the night—and now, her own family was treating her like she was the one to blame as if she had willingly dragged herself into danger. "Don't act so innocent!" Richard barked, his voice laced with ridicule. His daughter's tears did nothing to soften his heart. Instead, he stepped forward, his hand shooting up, ready to strike. Leah flinched, instinctively leaning back, bracing for the blow. But it never came. A strong hand caught Richard's wrist in mid-air and Dash's roaring voice echoed through the room. "What the fuck are you doing, Richard?" Leah's eyes snapped open, confusion flickering in them. Why was he here? Richard and Clara froze as embarrassment flickered across their faces. "Ah... Dash..." Richard stammered. Clara quickly recovered, her voice dripping with mock concern. "You wouldn't understand. She's always causing trouble. You know how... unstable she is." But he ignored her completely, his eyes locked on Leah. "Leah..." he whispered, stepping closer. His rough fingers gently tilted her chin, exposing the red mark on her cheek. “Are you okay?” Leah flinched at his touch, disgust flashing in her eyes as she jerked away. The fake concern in his voice only made her stomach churn. Dash sighed, frustration glinting in his blue eyes. "The doctor said you can go home." His gaze landed on Richard and Clara. "I guess I'll have to settle the hospital bill and discharge paperwork." Richard's expression stiffened, but he quickly masked it with a sneer. "No, I'll handle it," he mumbled before hurrying toward the door with Clara following closely behind. As the door clicked shut, Dash took a step closer to the bed, lowering his voice. "Leah, baby..." He reached out again, but Leah slapped his hand away, her eyes blazing. "Don't touch me," she snapped coldly. "You chose to marry my sister. Then why are you here?" "I can't get you out of my mind, Leah." His voice was smooth, but Leah huffed in frustration. "If you're with me, no one will ever hurt you. I'll protect you from everything." Leah stared at him in disbelief. If he truly cared for her, why hadn't he stood by her side when she needed him most? Why had he chosen Ivy? "Do me one big favor, Dash—stay away from me. Your filthy words make my skin crawl." Her voice trembled, humiliation burning beneath her anger. "Leah, think about it... be my—" "Your what? Mistress?" she shot back, fury burning in her eyes. Her body trembled as tears welled up. How could she have ever believed this man was meant to be her forever? Dash's expression darkened. "Who else would want you?" "What's going on here?" A deep, commanding voice reverberated through the room, making Dash instinctively step back. Stefano strode into the room, his imposing presence commanding the space. He stepped between Leah and Dash, shielding her from the man's gaze as his cold, piercing eyes locked onto him. "Who the fuck are you?" Dash snapped, irritation flashing as Stefano's slow, deliberate step pushed him back. Stefano didn't bother answering. His stony glare sent the message that he was not someone to mess with. "He's my new bodyguard," Leah murmured softly, her eyes fixed on his broad, powerful back. Stefano glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Miss Sinclair, is this guy bothering you?" But Leah remained silent, kept her head down, fingers twisting the edge of the comforter. Dash scoffed. "I'm her brother-in-law. What's your fucking problem?" Stefano's eyes narrowed, his voice low and edged with warning. "Then why are there tears in her eyes?" Leah's eyes snapped up to her new bodyguard, surprise flickering in them—he had noticed? "How the fuck do I know?!" Dash sounded defensive. "She... she might still be in shock from the incident. Maybe," he stammered, offering a feeble excuse. "Then leave her alone. She needs rest," Stefano said curtly, gesturing towards the door. Dash clenched his jaw, shooting one last glance at Leah before turning and walking out. Only when the door clicked shut did Leah let out a trembling sigh of relief. Her gaze then shifted to the taut, sculpted back of her new bodyguard, and a pitiful thought crept into her mind: He's so poor—juggling two jobs, a gigolo by night and a bodyguard by day—just to make a living.