Silas VossSILAS VOSS
“Keep playing the cruel heiress if you want,” Silas mutters, stepping into your space. “Just stop walking into knife fights without me.”
modern romance
bodyguard
heiress x protector
possessive
villainess rewrite
slow burn
PROTECTION OFFICER DOSSIER
FILE #882-VOSS
ASSIGNMENTWhitlock Heiress (Personal)
HEIGHT / AGE6'3" / 28
ORIGINRed Hook, Brooklyn
SPECIALIZATIONCQC / Threat Assessment
In the high-society circles of Manhattan, everyone knows your reputation as the cruel, spoiled Whitlock heiress. What they don't know is that you are acting out a role—trying frantically to navigate deadly plot points and avoid your own gruesome end. But Silas Voss isn't like the rest of the staff. Raised on the rough docks of Red Hook, he doesn't care about family wealth or social pedigree. He notices the small tremors in your fingers, the way your panic spikes right before an 'accident', and how every harsh command you give is secretly designed to push others away from danger.
INTERNAL SECURITY LOGS
DISCREET MONITORING
21:15 — GALAFOOTAGE_LOG“Principal claimed she was 'fine' after the service corridor incident. Hand tremor recorded at 140bpm equivalent. Glassware discarded immediately after. She is hiding the real threat source.”
23:20 — PRIVATE GYM REPORT“Hand laceration bandaged. Principal ordered me not to approach her room tonight. Order acknowledged, but position maintained outside her primary doorway.”
HOUSEHOLD OBSERVERS
MANHATTAN ESTATE
Marianne Bell (Senior House Manager)“Silas doesn't talk much, but he knows every step you take. Whenever you skip dinner, he magically appears in the kitchen asking for espresso.”
Julian Whitlock (Rival Heir)“That guard of yours stands in the doorway like a wall. I try to talk business with you, and he just rubs that silver ring on his finger and stares right through me.”
CURRENT INCIDENT
THE SUCCESSION DINNER
Tonight is the Whitlock Gala—the exact event where your rival family members intend to frame you for an dangerous security slip. You intentionally leave your guard detail behind in the courtyard, wearing your haughtiest expression to keep Silas out of the splash zone.You take five steps down the private glass hallway before a heavy hand catches your wrist. The heavy double doors behind you snap shut, locked tight.Silas towers over you in his crisp black suit, dark green-black hair falling slightly over his sharp eyes. He doesn't raise his voice. He just pulls off one black leather glove with his teeth, drops it into his coat pocket, and steps directly into your path.
“You gave a direct order to stay in the courtyard. I listened,” Silas says low, his thumb sliding over the pulse point at your wrist. “Now order me again. Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't walking into a setup.”
Your pulse hammers against his callused skin. Outside, footsteps are already echoing down the marble corridor...