Ricardo Patterson felt a thrill of anticipation at his mother's revelation. He had never imagined his family had a connection with the legendary "Ultimate Bodyguard," Adan Bradley, a figure he had idolized during his childhood. This news sparked a burning desire to meet Adan. Patricia Patterson reminded Ricardo to ensure his staff treated Adan with the utmost respect. "Alright, Mom, I'll make sure of it," Ricardo assured her, as the excitement of Adan's impending arrival grew within him.

Understanding her son's hectic life, Patricia added reluctantly, "Okay, Ricardo, that's all I wanted to say. Take care of your work and remember to stay safe."

Ricardo nodded with a grin, "I know, Mom. No need to worry about me. I'll be careful. Goodbye."

As the screen dimmed, Ricardo softly repeated Adan's name, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Adan... things are about to get interesting."

Parker Franklin's voice suddenly echoed from outside the office, full of enthusiasm, "Ricardo, I found out why the chandelier fell!" Parker burst into the room unannounced, and Ricardo raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, couldn't you knock first?" Ricardo teased him.

"Okay, okay, I’ll step out and come back properly," Parker chuckled, pretending to leave.

With a slight eyebrow raise and a laid-back tone, Ricardo said, "Alright, just spill what you've found out."

Parker's demeanor turned serious as he explained, "I checked the chandelier. Someone messed with the top chain, removing a screw. It seems the cleaning crew was prepping the chandelier for your return, and that's when someone tampered with it."

Ricardo's expression grew serious. "Have you checked the list of cleaning personnel? Who was in charge of the chandelier?"

Parker shrugged. "I asked around, and they all claimed they didn't know each other well, assuming everyone was hired by the same company."

"Wasn't there a record of their personal details?" Ricardo was frustrated. It was mandatory for all staff to sign in at security due to the importance of the headquarters.

His frustration wasn't with his staff's oversight allowing an intruder, but their failure to follow protocol. Seeing Ricardo's irritation, Parker explained with a grin, "Don't worry. Of course, we have records. Who would dare ignore an order from Ricardo Patterson? But the culprit outsmarted us. They knocked out a legitimate cleaner after they’d signed in, then impersonated him to sneak in. We found the real cleaner in a dumpster, but luckily, he was just knocked out, not harmed."

Ricardo's tension eased a bit. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, "This assassin knows their stuff—not like those amateurs. But didn't anyone else notice something off?"

Parker replied, "No, everyone was busy with their tasks. The imposter was dealing with the chandelier, so nobody paid special attention."

With concern, Parker added, "You need to be cautious. This assassin isn’t just anyone. A simple slip could be deadly."

Ricardo waved off the concern with a casual smile, "Don’t worry. I’ve hired a professional bodyguard to tackle the assassin."

"A professional bodyguard?!" Parker was taken aback, rubbing his ear as if questioning his hearing. "Ricardo, am I hearing this right? You've always hated the idea of having someone guard you."

Ricardo's smile was self-assured. "You have to adapt to the situation. I don’t trust just anyone with my life, but this person is different. He’s the ‘Ultimate Bodyguard,’ someone I admire. I’m sure he can handle any so-called professional assassins."

Parker, who knew Ricardo well, was surprised at his decision to hire a bodyguard. "Someone trustworthy enough for that? Hard to believe."

Looking directly at Parker, Ricardo joked, "Aren't you someone I trust with my life?"

Parker laughed, "Hearing something like that from Ricardo Patterson? Are you buttering me up?"

Ricardo coolly replied, "If you don’t believe me, I can show you." Opening a drawer, he pulled out a sleek, ivory object resembling a small gun.

Parker's face drained. "Ricardo, is that what I think it is?"

Ricardo nodded, smiling. "Yes, it is. With the danger lurking, I need protection. Don’t worry, this weapon is registered legally."

Parker chuckled, "The Patterson influence can secure something like this in a city like London. Maybe I should get one too."

Ricardo's voice turned serious, "Do you think it's easy to get one of these? In a city with strict gun laws, you need strong connections."

"Just kidding," Parker raised his hands defensively, "I wouldn’t actually get one." Then, shifting back to the main topic, he asked, "So, who is this incredible bodyguard?"

Ricardo's face brightened, "He's supposed to arrive today. You'll see him soon—definitely unforgettable."

Ricardo gazed out the expansive glass window behind him, eyes narrowed with anticipation, eager for the dramatic moment to unfold.

At Adan Bradley's private residence, Malayah Smith awoke late, worn out from a sleepless night filled with worry. As she crawled out of bed, she noticed the pillow was damp. In the mirror, she saw her swollen, red eyes—a testament to the tears she’d shed and her deep frustration with the situation.

Stripping off her nightwear, Malayah stood bare, hoping the air would ease her tension. Resolving to face the day boldly, she decided to emulate Adan’s style if she was going to step into his shoes. She didn’t want to seem vulnerable or out of her element.

She rummaged through her bag, pulling out a black suit she had intended as a gift for Adan. Given yesterday’s events, she decided to keep it for herself. The suit fit reasonably well, even if a bit loose. Combined with shiny black shoes and sleek sunglasses, she finished her look with hair gel to keep her hair in place.

Though her hair wasn’t long, it did the job. After all, many artistic bodyguards these days embraced unique styles.

After a night of intense thought, Malayah Smith decided to face the upcoming challenges head-on. Standing in front of a full-length mirror, she admired her reflection. Her all-black outfit was classy and chic, challenging the idea that "Men in black, women in white." The only thing that bothered her slightly was her height. At 5'2", she felt a bit smaller next to her male peers, even though it was an average height for women.

"Looking sharp, really sharp! I can’t believe I pull off this suit better than the old man does!" she said with a self-satisfied grin, turning to get a full view.

Just then, the door to her room opened a crack, and four curious eyes peered in.

"See, I told you she'd come around," a low voice whispered, the speaker's eyes positioned at the bottom of the door.

The pair of bright eyes above belonged to Malayah's mentor, Selena Stewart. She replied softly, "Aren't you worried at all, Master? You don't think she might run into trouble on her first mission?"

The old man chuckled quietly, "Don't worry. I have my reasons for sending Malayah out. I wouldn't risk anything happening to my favorite student."

As Malayah continued to admire herself in the mirror, she suddenly heard a faint rustling. She turned sharply, calling, "Who's there?!"

There was a sudden thud, and a small black-and-yellow striped kitten was tossed into the room. The kitten let out an indignant "Meow!"

"Ah, it’s just Whiskers come to see me off," Malayah's eyes brightened as she bent down to scoop up the kitten, stroking its fur as she laughed.

"Meow..." The kitten nuzzled against Malayah, seeming to share her enthusiasm despite its unceremonious entry.

Laughter filled the room as the kitten's soft whiskers tickled her face. "Haha, that tickles, Whiskers! Quit it!"

Meanwhile, outside, pressed flat against the walls, Adan Bradley and Selena Stewart heaved sighs of relief. Thankfully, Whiskers had strolled in just in time, sparing them a potentially awkward moment.

"Selena, you're getting sharper by the day. You’re the perfect candidate for my top student," Adan praised, flashing a thumbs-up.

"Who's there?!" Malayah shouted again from within the room.

Cradling Whiskers, Malayah stepped to the door and peered into the hallway. It was empty, with only a row of railings ahead.

"Strange, I thought I heard the old man," Malayah muttered, puzzled as she retreated and closed the door.

Before her call, Selena and Adan had made a hasty escape, swinging over the railing and hanging by a protruding brick on the second floor to avoid being seen.

They hung there, practically breathless, until Malayah went back inside. Relieved, they finally exhaled.

Their landing was almost silent on the carpet below. "Ouch," Adan mumbled, twisting his ankle slightly.

Selena quickly helped him to the sofa, asking, "Are you okay, Master? Should I grab some ointment?"

Adan waved her off with a laugh, "I'm not that fragile, Selena. I was once among the best bodyguards around. If anyone hears about this, they'd have a good laugh."

With respect, he turned to Selena, "Selena, you've truly become exceptional—your reflexes, your skills rival my peak days. You are indeed a natural; I wasn't wrong about you."

Selena massaged his shoulders, her features warm with affection. "Master, please don’t say that. You raised both Malayah and me. No matter what, we look up to you as the legendary Adan Bradley from back in the day."

He chuckled heartily, "I know you do, but I’m not sure Malayah feels the same. She probably thinks I'm sending her into the lion’s den."

Selena continued to rub his shoulders, worry in her voice, "Master, this mission is dangerous, and Malayah is up against seasoned assassins. I’m really concerned for her."

Adan reassured, "Don't worry. If things really go south, we'll step in. But if we tell her that now, she might not take the mission seriously. She needs this to grow."

Selena smiled warmly. "With you watching over her, there’s no one she can’t handle."

Adan's expression turned serious, "Remember why I live in seclusion. There is always someone stronger out there."

Selena fell into thoughtful silence, recalling the whispered rumors of a failed mission that had led Adan to live in seclusion—an encounter with an assassin who outclassed him. Details were scarce, but she suspected the foe had been a formidable one.

As these thoughts churned, Malayah's door creaked open. She emerged, cradling Whiskers. "Alright, Whiskers, time for me to head out. You be good, okay? I'll be back soon."

She placed Whiskers down and walked towards the railing, peering down at the empty foyer. "Really, they didn’t even come to see me off. Only Whiskers has any heart."

With a final adjustment of her sunglasses, she picked up her suitcase and headed downstairs, her departure marked by a somber sense of duty.

Watching her leave, Selena and Adan stepped out from behind the door, their expressions tinged with wistfulness. "Master, not seeing her off seems a bit harsh, don’t you think?" Selena whispered, her fondness for Malayah like that of a sister.

Adan sighed deeply, "How can a bird learn to fly if it never leaves the nest? She needs to discover her own wings." With that, he turned back to the villa, his steps a mix of pride and concern.

Selena watched Malayah's figure disappear, a soft sigh escaping before following Adan inside.

Though Malayah had seen many skyscrapers, the sight of the Eagle Wing International Hotel’s tower was awe-inspiring. The 100-story building was a marvel, a skyscraper truly reaching for the heavens. The name 'Eagle Wing' was fitting indeed.

"Looks like I’m protecting someone important. With all the bodyguards here, they probably won’t even notice me. Easy in, easy out!" The opulent sight lifted Malayah’s spirits, her grin wide.

After adjusting her slightly loose-fitting suit and sunglasses, she walked confidently toward the entrance with her suitcase.

But as soon as she stepped into the hotel, a security guard in uniform noticed her unusual outfit. Grabbing his radio, he called urgently, "Attention front desk, this is 032. We’ve got someone suspicious in the lobby! I repeat, suspect in the lobby!"

Malayah Smith approached the imposing facade of the Grand Alpine Resort with a confident stride, despite the ill-fitting black suit and oversized sunglasses that seemed to swallow her petite frame. She laughed inwardly at the absurdity of her situation, hoping the grandeur of the place would overshadow her anonymity. This was just another assignment, after all—one where blending in was key.

As soon as she set foot in the lobby, two brawny security guards intercepted her path.

The guards were towering figures, each nearly 6 feet tall, and Malayah had to crane her neck to meet their gaze, causing her sunglasses to wobble precariously on her nose. She felt a fleeting stab of embarrassment at her diminutive height—a rare sensation for her.

“Good afternoon, miss. May I ask who you're here to see?” one of the guards inquired, giving her a once-over.

Malayah attempted to square her shoulders, trying to offset the height difference with sheer attitude. “I'm here for Ricardo Patterson,” she declared with authority, using the CEO's first name to assert some semblance of control.

The guards exchanged a skeptical glance. One extended his hand, saying, “Miss, do you have an appointment with Mr. Patterson? We’ll need to see your appointment card.”

Malayah was momentarily stumped. Why would she need an appointment card? It wasn't like she was booking a dentist appointment. Cursing silently at her mentor’s oversight in not preparing her for this step, she hesitated. “I... don't have an appointment card.”

“I’m sorry, miss,” the guard replied. “Please register at the security desk first, then you can arrange an appointment at the front desk.”

The suggestion filled Malayah with dread. Registering could expose her identity as a woman—a risk she could not take. But without following protocol, she'd never meet Ricardo Patterson. Even if she could arrange an appointment, she’d be waiting for days, even weeks. The idea of retreating briefly crossed her mind.

Then inspiration struck. From her pocket, she retrieved a counterfeit check for a million dollars. “I don’t have an appointment card, but perhaps this can serve my purpose.” She presented the replica check to the guards.

The guards froze at the sight of the check, their demeanor shifting from dismissive to deferential, recognizing it as something that only the legendary bodyguard, Adan Bradley, could produce.

“Forgive us, miss. Let's escort you to Mr. Patterson immediately,” the guard said, his tone now respectful.

The significance of the check was beyond Malayah, but the change in attitude was a relief, a welcome departure from the guards' initial skepticism.

Inside the CEO's office at Grand Alpine Resort, Ricardo Patterson was deep in thought, concentrating on a document in front of him. Across the desk, Parker Franklin sat casually, absorbed in sketching something with a pen.

The repetitive scratching of Parker's pen prompted Ricardo to glance up, exasperated. “Parker, why are you in here instead of working? What's that you’re drawing?”

Parker ignored Ricardo’s irritation and snickered, “Finished!”

“What’s done?” Ricardo asked, curious.

“Your top-notch bodyguard,” Parker exclaimed, brandishing his sketch.

Ricardo looked at the drawing, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Parker, are you sure that’s a bodyguard and not a cartoon character?”

“A cartoon character? Take another look, it’s clearly human!” Parker defended.

Their friendly banter was cut short as Ricardo’s desk phone rang. He answered swiftly.

“Mr. Patterson, Mr. Adan Bradley has arrived. He’s outside your office now,” the secretary announced crisply.

The news made Parker jump, rushing to open the office door. “I don’t see anyone, Ricardo. Your secretary’s pulling a fast one,” Parker laughed, peering out.

Then, a voice both smooth and resolute sounded nearby, “I’m Adan Bradley.”

Parker recoiled in surprise, his eyes falling on Malayah—barely visible as she stood there, half-concealed by the door.