**Chapter 16: Not Much Of A Choice**
**AMY**
The air in the room was thick with the aftermath of chaos, a lingering tension that clung to the walls like an unwelcome guest. Mark and Clara had left abruptly, and with the click of the door, it felt as if they had taken with them the last remnants of normalcy. My heart raced, still reeling from the events of the day, when one of the unfamiliar figures stepped forward, casting a long shadow across the room. He was broad-shouldered, clad entirely in black, and exuded an aura of authority that hinted at rigorous training in self-defense.
The second man, while slightly younger, was equally well-built, his presence radiating a quiet strength.
“Miss Amy,” the taller one began, his voice deep and steady, “I am Cole. This is my associate, Ryan.” He gestured toward the other man, who stood silently, his expression unreadable. “We are your newly assigned bodyguard and driver,” he added with a calmness that felt almost surreal given the circumstances.
For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. “You’re my what?” I stammered, disbelief coloring my tone.
“Bodyguard and driver,” Ryan reiterated, his voice unwavering, as if he were stating a simple fact rather than delivering a life-altering declaration.
As I stared at them, a throbbing ache began to pulse at my temples. Everything about this day felt overwhelming. The false accusations, the blood, Mark’s brutal punch, and now, two strangers standing in my personal space, claiming they were here to ‘protect’ me? It felt absurd.
I blinked rapidly, trying to piece my thoughts together. “Listen, I don’t know who sent you, but I didn’t request a bodyguard or a driver. I don’t need either.”
Cole’s gaze flicked to the dried blood near my temple, his expression unyielding. “With all due respect, ma’am, you look like you do,” he remarked, gesturing subtly toward my head.
His tone was devoid of mockery, flat and matter-of-fact, as though he were merely stating the obvious.
I sighed, rubbing my forehead in frustration. “Unbelievable.”
Turning toward the table, I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I scrolled through my contacts to find Mrs. Carter’s number. Just as I was about to hit the call button, the device buzzed violently in my hand, her name lighting up the screen.
“Mrs. Carter—” I began, but she cut me off.
“Before you say anything, I assume Cole and Ryan have arrived?” Her voice was calm, carrying the same authoritative tone she always used to remind me of her control. “I sent them to you this morning.”
A frown etched itself across my face. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you clearly need protection,” she replied, her words cutting through the air. “After what happened with Clara, I can’t risk any more public scenes or scandals before the ceremony. You’re marrying my son, Amy. That makes you part of the Carter family, and the Carter name must be protected and held in high regard by the public.”
“So this is about your reputation, not my safety,” I said, my voice laced with indignation.
There was a brief silence on the line. “It’s about both. You’ll do well to remember that,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I clenched my jaw, frustration boiling within me. “I can handle myself, Mrs. Carter. I don’t need guards following me around like some prisoner.”
She ignored my protest with practiced ease. “They will be with you at all times, from now until the ceremony. Cole will report directly to me. And, Amy, don’t even think about trying to send them away. They follow my orders, not yours.”
Before I could muster a response, the line went dead.
Lowering the phone slowly, a wave of nausea washed over me. The realization struck me cold—Mrs. Carter wasn’t merely trying to protect me; she was attempting to control me.
When I looked up, both men remained standing there, silent and poised, as if waiting for instructions.
“Let me guess,” I said, forcing a semblance of calm into my voice. “She told you to stick around no matter what I say.”

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