Bossy Bodyguard: Bodyguard/ Ex’s Dad Age Gap Romance (Dominating Desires Book 3)
Bossy Bodyguard: Part 1 – Chapter 10

I called my son, hearing it ring for a few seconds before I heard his slurred voice. “What’s up?”

I paused, looking at the screen, and sighed. “Where are you?”

“Who’s this?”

“Caleb—” I nodded at the hotel staff wearing a mask to cover their features and continued, “You called me earlier. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

I patted my suit to grab my key fob and froze. I didn’t have my ring with me. Where the fuck was it?

“It’s okay, Cillian,” he hissed out the words and laughed, his friends calling him. “I can take care of myself.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I kept my phone away and checked my pockets, but I couldn’t replace the ring. It was my wedding band and I couldn’t lose it. Because if I lost it, then it would mean…

No. I didn’t have time for those thoughts.

I must have dropped it in the room—shit. A curse flew out of me as I kept pressing the button to my suite in the private elevator. If Emma found the ring, she’d think I was cheating on my wife. I didn’t know why, but her opinion of me mattered a lot, despite knowing her for only a few hours. I didn’t want her to think I was having an affair.

“Emma?” I knocked on the door and didn’t hear a sound. I looked at the corner of my eyes seeing a hotel staff rolling a trolly at the end of the hallway and disappearing. “Emma? I forgot something. I’m coming in.”

I heard a clatter and a thud from inside of the room and unlocked the door, stepping inside.

My steps faltered when I found her lying on the floor. In the blink of an eye, I was kneeling in front of her, cupping her cold cheek and seeing her dilated eyes as they peered at me with a dazed look.

“Can you hear me?” I asked, trying to calm my hammering heart. “Emma? What happened?”

With as much gentleness as I could muster, I picked her up and laid her down on the bed. She couldn’t be drunk, but there was a bottle of champagne. Did she order it? I kept the empty bucket aside after tucking her in bed.

“Where the hell is your purse?” I grumbled, raking a hand through my hair when I didn’t replace it. “Fucking great.”

I glanced from her unconscious body to the bottle. It wasn’t even empty. Then how the fuck did she get so wrecked by just two drinks?

My knuckles brushed over her forehead, noting the high temperature. I checked my watch and cursed. I have to call the police—

Without another thought, I opened the main door of the suite and halted when I came face to face with a man in shirt and pants, his expression furious.

“Is Emma here?” he asked, but by the tone of it, he could have put a knife on my neck and said it with a disgusting rasp.

“Yes, but she needs—”

His face twisted. “Emma, are you decent?” he called out and muttered underneath his breath, “Since when did you start sleeping with silver foxes?”

My jaw clenched, knowing well what he meant. “Emma is decent and in bed. Who the fuck are you?”

I didn’t have to waste my time with the jerk. I needed to call an ambulance and get her checked soon.

“I’m Damon Grant. Move.” He tried to intimidate me, but it was hard since I loomed over him without any effort.

I stopped him when he tried to enter the room. The man may have looked decent, but the way he was acting was suspicious. Like hell I’d let him enter when she was unconscious.

“I don’t care who you are.” My jaw clenched when he went past me and I followed him, ready to tackle him down if he tried anything funny. “I need to call an ambulance. She’s unconscious.”

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

I was taken aback by the rawness on his face when he glared at me before leaning down and checking her pulse.

“I found her like this. If she was drunk, she’d be slurring right now, but she didn’t have enough alcohol to get piss drunk. If I suspect something else, then it could mean a loss of motor control.” I checked my watch and then the man, who was clearly more concerned about Emma’s health than who she slept with. “She either ingested rohypnol, GHB or ketamine. So, we need to get her to hospital ASAP.”

“Wait.” The man stood up, his eyes flickering to me and the unconscious woman on the bed. “You mean she was roofied?”

My jaw clenched, hating that I wasn’t there for her for a few more minutes.

“Yes. If you care about her, get the manager and check the cameras. I’ll call emergency—”

“I’m the manager and her brother.” He swallowed the lump in his throat when I gave him a poker face. I figured he was either a jealous ex or an over-protective brother or relative, but what I didn’t understand was how he could watch his unconscious sister and not panic. It was odd. “Can you hold on to calling nine-one-one? I’ll ask our personal doctor to come right—”

I crossed my arms and stared at his cold grey eyes. “Do you know that high doses of these drugs may cause death? I’m not waiting around for you to call your personal doctor.”

“I won’t let her die too,” he snapped, his eyes sharp and challenging me to see if I’d argue. Good for him. He was saved by his phone ringing and he gave me a hard stare when he walked to the corner of the room to take the call.

Let her die, too?

I eyed his back and the unconscious woman on the bed. Was she Emma Grant? I knew he was Damon Grant, CEO of the sex club I was standing in, but I didn’t know he had a sister. I titled my head, taking a step closer to see if her breathing had changed.

It was normal.

My hands clenched in fists. I wanted to do terrible, terrible things to the person who dared drug her for God knows what—

If I wasn’t there, what could have happened? If I hadn’t decided to come back upstairs, something… someone could have—the thought made bile rise to my throat.

My fingers brushed over my bottom lip, on the scar that I despised, reminding me of my ruin.

As Damon had promised, their private doctor arrived with a couple of nurses and checked on Emma. I watched everything with a sharp eye, knowing I couldn’t sit still. My fingers were itching to check the surveillance camera, interrogate the bartender and especially her brother, who looked both furious and guilty, pacing in the room.

My phone trilled, and I only stepped back to check my screen and sighed. He told me he’d take care of himself only to call me back again. I was used to it now. He only ever called when he needed something from me and most of the time it was money, even though I gave him more than enough allowance. Flickering my eyes to Emma, I made sure she was being cared for before picking up the call.

“Hey… uh, can you pick me up?” His voice was casual, but I knew my son enough to know that he was nervous. He seemed sober too.

“What happened?”

I could hear loud people in the background, and I knew he was still at the party.

“I—not right now Tania—can you just pick me up?” He seemed annoyed, by me or Tania, I didn’t know. “I’ll text you the location.”

“Caleb.” I tightened my hand on the phone as I looked at the unconscious woman on the bed. “You told me specifically that you will take care of yourself when I asked where were you. Can’t you call a cab? If you are hurt, I’ll be there in ten—”

I heard him laugh, making me frown. “I shouldn’t have fucking called you. My bad. Sorry to disturb you from your work, Dad.”

The call ended before I could say another word. He said the word Dad as if it was a curse. Maybe he thought it was ever since…

Shaking my head, I glanced at Emma. Her golden hair was splayed on the bed, and she looked much better than how I had found her. Her brother was looking after her. I could get the ring later. It seemed little matter when Emma was unconscious and my son had called me twice.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I told Damon I was leaving, promising him I would be back to ask if they caught the person who roofied her.

For now, I needed to go pick up my son and make sure he was okay.