Caught Off Guard

Chapter One

Hi love. If you are returning to this story after some time away, welcome back. Take your time, read slowly, and when you are ready to continue, the full book lives in the link after this chapter.

Daniel

The alarm on my bedside table was already blaring, but I'd been awake long before it. I rinsed my toothbrush in the sink, padded back across the room, and turned off the alarm with my free hand—it was six thirty. I needed to be at work by seven thirty.

An hour to get ready, then enough time to check in with security and make sure everything was in order before the doors opened. The job was simple on paper.

I'd only been there a year, but I'd ingrained every motion, protocol, and step as if I'd been doing them for decades. Routine made life easier—predictable and straightforward.

I finished brushing my teeth, washed my face, and hung the towel back on its hook. My fingers grazed my jaw, feeling the rough stubble. I debated shaving, but it would grow back too quickly to bother. I ran a hand through my hair instead. It was too long again. I needed a trim. I'd find time after work. Maybe.

I lifted my eyes to the mirror, taking a glance at myself. Not for long—just enough to see what needed fixing. The dark shirt hugging my shoulders a little too tightly. The faint lines around my eyes from too many early mornings.

The steady expression that never seemed to change, no matter how tired I was. I looked the same as always, and that was enough. I didn't need anything more than that.

I walked into my closet.

The black suit I'd ironed the night before hung exactly where it belonged, with the matching tie beside it in perfect alignment. Getting dressed was quick—jacket, shirt, tie.

Then the shoes waiting on the lower shelf. A quick check of the drawer for the weekday watch, followed by the soft click of the clasp around my wrist.

It was a routine I could've done blindfolded, something my body moved through instinctively. I didn't mind the repetition. If anything, I appreciated the order. The simplicity. The way everything stayed where I put it.

I slipped into my trench coat, grabbed my phone, keys, and briefcase, and headed toward the elevator. The hallway was still quiet, which was a relief.

In another hour, families on this floor would be rushing in and out, kids shouting that they'd forgotten something, parents arguing over schedules.

Leaving early spared me all of that. The elevator dinged as it arrived in the garage. I stepped out, headed to my car, slid into the driver's seat, and placed everything on the passenger side before starting the engine. The morning routine never changed. That was the point.

I drove to the same coffee shop I went to five days a week. Easy order. Black coffee. Strong enough to wake me up, but never enough to make up for the hours of sleep I lacked. I grabbed it at the drive-through, set it in the cup holder, and headed toward Golden.

Golden was a VIP-only vault and banking service. We cared for clients who entrusted their valuables to us—stored behind reinforced steel rather than in private safes at home.

Jewelry, heirlooms, rare collections, stacks of cash, gold bars. If it had weight or value, we had a spot for it.

I'd worked hard to earn my promotion to manager. I started at the very bottom, taking shifts no one wanted, memorizing every protocol, doing everything by the book. I fought my way up until I reached this position—well-paid, high-responsibility.