Chapter 6

Juliano's POV

As soon as I left the LIAS group, the whole scenario kept replaying like a loop in my head.

To catch a monster, you have to act like a monster.

After the brief argument with my father, in the hallway. He believes no one can outsmart him, and he was about falling for those people. You can't only examine human from the surface.

I approached my office with the signage ‘ Mr Juliano Bernard, the CEO’, placing my thumb on the biometric door, it clicked open.

Enzo, walking directly behind me.

I walked over to my desk and pulled out the wig from my drawer, it reminds me of my only sister, who went missing years ago.

She wanted the wig to alter her blonde hair to black-brown tone. I persuaded her to avoid chemicals due to cancer risk.

The wig has been in my office since then.

“They won’t see you coming”, I said, placing the dark brown wig on his head with a hint of sadness in my heart.

He was the first person to cross my mind. He has a lot of qualities and the prominent one is courage.

As I spilled the tea, Enzo stood on his ground, his face maintaining a normal expression, he looks innocent.

I went into my chair and kept observing his expression, his eyes flinching with unreadable emotions like a detective trying to examine a suspect.

I focused on him, my eyes piercing through the standing figure in front of me.

He nodded at intervals.

I pulled out the file containing the LIAS group details and handed it over to him, walking towards my father.

After dispersing him,a thought flashed through my mind as I called , “Enzo”, surprised at my voice.

He opened the door,“You called for me sir”.

We'll make final arrangements for the deal in a few hours”. I said, facing him.

Be alert.

Flashback

I was shocked to the bones when I discovered he passed out. My brain went blank and my limbs numb.

He's bleeding and now, this.

I tapped him “Are you okay” but my voice echoed in the corners of the office. That was when it dawned on me.

I tried to raise him up, he’s heavy weighted.

Well, efforts do count. Then, I discovered the little pool of blood beneath his body, the office light glimmering into it. The blood spreading into the grout line between the tiles

My fingers are trembling.

Beads of sweat cover my temples and tremors shoot through my limbs.

I had seen people pass out before, had been in near death situations to know what to do. But this?

This is different

Fuck, damn it

What should I do?

I reached for the intercom and tried to call the emergency unit. I hit my hand on the edge of the table mumbling to myself ‘Please, pick up’ . Then it sounded ‘toot- toot- toot’ - disconnected. My intuition was right, they’re out of duty.

The knife was lying on the floor, a few centimetres from him, its black blades smeared with blood.

I darted my gaze from the knife and reached for my desk and sprung into action.

My desk- there must be something in there. I forced open the drawer, almost displacing it . My fingers fumbled through different things- pens, paper clips, sticky notes.

Useless.

I opened the last compartment, panting. Almost giving up ,I found it- a small transparent box with a red cross sign.

Rushing towards his stationary body, dropped to my knees and flipped open the box.

Applying a solution to the cotton ball.

I cleaned the surface before pressing gauze against it.

My second hand ran through my hair out of frustration.

The smell of fresh blood filled the air with the unmistakably lemon and lavender fragrance of the office.

My options are limited. I can go to the next floor to seek assistance. I can search for my mobile and call for help.

What if it gets complicated?

What if something else comes up?

It's just an hypothetical thinking that escapes the truth

I should handle this myself.

How does it feel when I'm unable to help who saved my life?

I felt his pulse- weak, fainting, declining pulse.

His neck felt soft and feminine.

Suddenly, something crossed my mind- CPR

Cardiopulmonary resuscitation

I've seen it in a few American medical thrillers

I tilt my head backwards and positioned my hands on his chest - interlocked.

One, two, three

I pressed hard, feeling the resistance beneath my palms, minimizing the movement of his spine. My brain merely registered the warmth of his body, the unfamiliar sensation of his frame beneath my hands.

Four, Five, Six

Then, I felt a lump. An unfamiliar obstruction. This isn't the hardened chest of a trained bodyguard. My instincts wanted to stop but my brain pushed me to go on.

Why does this feel different?

I shook those voices away and forge through. Still, it lingers at the back of my mind.

Seven, Eight, Nine

His chest rose barely- to a slight extent

I let out a sign of relief .

The sound of the door interrupts my chain of anxiety and thought. Wait. How?

I recalled, it was slightly opened.

Then, the security officer barged in.

He opened his mouth but words failed him.

His face widened “Let's take him to the hospital”, he said with fear printed all over his face

“Sir, people can't see you like this….

My suit sprawled on the floor, my hair scattered, my sleeve rolled up to my elbow while the other one remained midarm. My white shirt patterned with blood like an assassin.

“It doesn't matter, not even in a tight situation like this”, I was surprised my voice sounded hoarse.

She mumbled a feminine, excruciating whimper.

End of flashback

“Why not use someone else”, my father suggested

I faced him, “I'm not so sure of his reasons for disguising but I'm certain the agency only dispenses trained and qualified bodyguards. My instincts trust him for no particular reason.”

Living beneath the shadows of his true self.

It must have took him a lot of courage to be a bodyguard.

No, her.

“Can we trust someone that hides his true self?”, he said, almost discouraged. “What if he's on a mission, should we fire him?”

“No,I trust him”.

“Okay, we should keep an extra eye on him”, I nodded in agreement