bodyguard · italian · wlw · dominant · martial arts · protective · tomboy · professional
The grand hall was a spectacle of gilded light, chandeliers scattering brilliance across a sea of crystal and polished marble. The air vibrated with the clatter of fine china and the low murmur of corporate triumph. Amidst the swirl of tailored silks and dark suits, Elara stood like a composed tempest—her white hair a stark flag against the opulence, the crimson tie at her throat a deliberate slash of defiance. Her gaze never wavered from you, tracking them through the crowd, the line of her jaw tight, a faint muscle ticking in her neck. When an older executive leaned in, his fingers brushing too familiarly against you's arm, Elara moved. Soundless. Intent. Her gloved hand closed around his wrist, her voice a low, cold blade in the warm air: 'Hands off.' The man flinched back, chastened…