Jessica's gaze pinned Sophia in place, sharp as a scalpel. "A business trip?" she repeated, suspicion laced through her voice. "Flourish Scents has never sent you anywhere before."
Sophia shifted, her fingers curling into her palms. "I know, Mum. But they're expanding, and this new project is a big deal."
"One year is a long time. You can't go."
"They're offering five thousand pounds and a promotion, Mum. This could change everything for me."
Jessica's lips trembled. "Are you saying I won't see you for an entire year?"
Sophia forced a smile. "Of course not. I'll come back whenever I can."
"All the way from Hampstead?"
"Yes, Mum. Whenever I visit, I'll stay the night." She wrapped her arms around her mother, holding her close. "Thank you for understanding, Mum."
Without waiting for a response, she hurried into her room and dialed Sydney's number.
"Are you out of the exam hall yet?" she asked the moment he picked up.
"Just finished," he replied.
"How did it go?"
"Exactly what I studied for!"
She chuckled. "You're a true Jones."
He laughed. "You sound off. What's going on?"
She hesitated before exhaling. "I told Mum I'm going on a business trip for a year. If she knew the truth—that I'm becoming a bodyguard—she'd never let me."
Sydney sighed. "I don't get why she's so against you learning to fight."
Sophia's voice softened. "If I'd known how to defend myself back then, maybe those robbers wouldn't have killed Dad. I won't be helpless ever again."
"No matter what you do, promise me one thing—put yourself first."
"I will, Sydney." She paused. "But if anything happens to me, I know it'll be hard on you all."
"Stop being dramatic. No one's dying here." His teasing tone made her smile.
"Have they sent you the address to your new workplace yet?" he asked.
***
The next morning, Sophia stepped into a taxi, gripping her suitcase as nerves tangled in her stomach. She was stepping into a new world, one she wasn't sure she was ready for.
The car pulled up to a grand estate, its towering iron gates swinging open as she approached. House staff escorted her inside and up to the third floor, their polished shoes clicking against the marble floors. She adjusted her crisp white blouse, fiddled with the black suspenders on her trousers, and ran a hand over her sleekly combed hair.
The doors to the interview room swung open, revealing an opulent boardroom. A single chair faced a long conference table lined with empty seats. She barely had time to steady herself before footsteps echoed across the room.
An older man, likely in his early sixties, strode in. His sharp gaze swept over her, assessing.
"You're the Sophia Jones who supposedly took down four men on your own?" His tone held both skepticism and intrigue.
She met his stare head-on. "That's correct. Good day, sir."
"Your CV?"
She handed it over, watching as he flipped through it with little interest. His brow furrowed.
"BTEC in Engineering from Leeds City College?" Disapproval flickered across his face.
"Yes, sir."
He scoffed. "Do you understand that, as my son's bodyguard, you'll be dealing with high-profile individuals? You do realize accommodation is provided?"
Sophia inhaled deeply. "Yes, sir. I'll move in whenever you require."
"You have two days to settle in. Use the side exit—it's a faster way downstairs."
Without another word, he turned and walked out.
Sophia blinked. That was it? That was the entire interview?
***
Later that evening, she stepped into the glass-walled elevator of her new apartment building in North Greenwich. The modern interior shimmered with shifting backlit patterns, and the sleek control panel was embedded into the floor.
She hesitated, struggling to decipher the symbols. As she tapped at the glowing icons, the elevator lurched to a stop. The lights flickered ominously.
Her pulse spiked. She pressed the emergency button—no response.
Gripping her phone, she called the one person who could help. "Hello? I'm stuck in the elevator," she said, trying to keep the panic from her voice. "The control panel isn't working."
A calm but urgent voice answered. "Smith Group elevators have custom designs. Stay put. I'll guide you through it."
Minutes later, the elevator hummed back to life, and as the doors slid open, her breath caught.
Standing before her was a man so striking she momentarily forgot to breathe.
Dark, tousled hair framed a chiseled face, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers with cool amusement. He wore a sharp, well-tailored suit, exuding effortless power and control.
Before she could think, she reached out, needing to confirm he was real.
Before her fingers could graze him, he caught her wrist in a firm grip. "What are you?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain.
Sophia blinked. "Who am I? I'm the daughter of Tom Jones. Born and raised in Bethnal Green. I could tell you everything about—"
"I don't need a history lesson." He smirked and turned on his heel, walking away.
Jaw clenched, she hurried after him. "There was a manual in the elevator, wasn't there?" he called over his shoulder. "Why didn't you just read it instead of panicking?"
She bristled. "Excuse me for not expecting to get trapped."
His smirk deepened. "From now on, I'm calling you Tom-Tom. You introduced yourself so proudly, after all. Like the cartoon character."
Sophia's patience snapped. "You have no right to talk to me like that."
"And if I do?"
Instinct kicked in. She swung her foot, aiming to strike, but he caught it effortlessly. Shock jolted through her—no one had ever been fast enough to block her attacks.
Eyes narrowed, she demanded, "Who are you?"
"I'm your master."
"Master?" she echoed in disbelief.
He tilted his head. "You're working as my brother's driver and bodyguard. What does that make you?"
Sophia's mind reeled. "You already know who I am?"
"I know all the staff here. And you, Tom-Tom, look exactly as unkempt as a proper servant should."
Fuming, she straightened. "I'm not a servant. I'm a professional."
He sighed and gestured for her to follow him back into the elevator. "Alright, let's try this again. The control panel isn't complicated. Touch the icon gently—no need to press too hard. If it doesn't respond, adjust your finger slightly."
She hesitated but did as instructed, watching as the symbol glowed. "Got it. And if it glitches?"
He pointed to a discreet button. "Press this. It alerts us to any issues. If you ever get stuck again, stay calm. There's a backup system."
As the doors closed between them, Sophia exhaled slowly.
***
When she arrived home, she was met with a sight that made her stomach drop—her mother, sitting outside by the fish pond, staring blankly ahead.
Something was wrong.
"Mum?" she whispered, rushing to kneel beside her.
Jessica wordlessly handed her a paper.
Sophia's heart plummeted. The termination letter from her old job.
"Mum, how did you—?"
"Fabian found it when he cleaned your room." Jessica's voice shook.
Tears welled in Sophia's eyes.
"I took this job for you," she murmured. "Your surgery is in two weeks. We're going to be okay, Mum."
Jessica's voice cracked. "I don't want you risking your life for me."
Sophia held her tight. "I'd do anything for you."
And in that moment, they wept together, knowing just how much they had sacrificed for each other.