She was everything they never expected.
Regal and mysterious, Callaia Sosa was more than they bargained for when they accepted the job of protecting her. Little was told of the heiress and there was even less to find.
They expected someone spoiled...
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Twelve Years Ago
Sosa Estate
(Wattpad isn't allowing me to put outsourced fonts in my chapters anymore so we'll have to make do.)
Ivan Sosa sinks into his comfy leather seat in front the the crackling fireplace in the sitting room. It's typically reserved for greeting unwarranted visitors, but he always liked this spot the best to relax. There's a lot less commotion going on in this part of the manor this time of night. After the day he's had he needed nothing more than an aged whiskey on the rocks while he lounged about in the rattiest pajamas in his arsenal.
Today, began with a bang. Quite literally, in fact.
He'd been with his team on one of their finally missions together they needed to wrap up. A drug lord a few states over knew it was his time, that he'd been outsmarted and cornered. That only ever ends in two ways in Ivan's experience - in surrender or in bloodshed. This drug lord decided to blow them all up along with his entire gang. If he was going down, he'd burn the world right alongside him.
Those were the most despicable sorts in Ivan's mind. He's always been on the more compassionate side compared to his comrades. They all tended to look through a microscope, analyzing every criminal they took on like a bug to be squashed. He looked at them like the people they were. Some people just got dealt a bad hand. Some just got scraps to play with in their life. Some were stuck in awful conditions with only one route out. Most Ivan came across tended to be that way - victims of circumstance. The asshole today however, fully deserved the wrath of the Elm Faction, and Ivan didn't step in to interfere when his Commander decided to beat the shit out of him for endangering everyone on the premises just so he wouldn't go to prison.
Already in a foul mood, it grew fouler when his wife called to remind him of the luncheon she'd been planning for weeks he had to attend and a fundraising gala at the Museum of Natural Science they'd RSVP'd to months prior. Onto the plane he went, having no time for a nap after being up all night dealing with a dying gang as he was too busy suiting up.
At the luncheon he got to see his three grandchildren - Luna, Wynter, and Evan. Luna and Wynter were sisters, daughters of Ivan's youngest, Selene. Evan belonged to his son, Salem, but lord knows where that boy is off to. Salem barely sticks around long enough for his son to remember his face before he's off on 'business'. Selene isn't his favorite company to keep either, being a bit too much like her mother in the worst ways possible, but at least she made the effort to speak to him with respect. Salem barely acknowledged him anymore. Only crawling out of the gutters when he needed something.
