Her Demon Bodyguard

Chapter 2

“Miss Emily? Ah, you are already awake,” Giles crossed the room holding my freshly washed and pressed uniform. He laid them out on the end of the bed one by one. First was the white button down dress shirt, perfectly crisp and free of any creases. Next was the beige box pleated skirt and next to that, the navy colored blazer with simulated brass buttons. Patched onto its left breast was the private all-girl school's emblem; a golden oak tree, it's branches overflowing with blossoming gold leaves and 'Richmond High' in italic gold lettering underneath. 

“I have made breakfast preparations in the dining room, along with your after-school schedule,” he said once he had finished. “The party arrangements have also been put into place.” 

“Wait, what? I didn't think you was serious!” The last thing I needed was a birthday party. Who would even attend?

“As the beneficiary and heir to Beaumont Industries, it is important that you hold such social gatherings. You cannot control the power of your presence if you continue to be nothing but a shadow, Miss Emily,” Giles smiled that same playful, impish smile and took a bow. “I shall await for you in the dining room,” he said softly and left, lightly clicking my bedroom door shut. I sighed and threw back the covers, padding towards the adjoining bathroom.

Beaumont Industries. The company my mother and father had worked so hard to build, to maintain. We were known to be brash; harsh with our policies and unrelenting when it came to securing investors. I never understood it all back then; the unforgiving and heartless world that was the stock market. Being one of the largest pharmaceutical and digital distribution companies in the world came with a lot of responsibility, a lot of meetings, a lot of work. A massive headache. It was even harder when the whole world was unaware of the fact that the two founders, the backbone, the anchors of the company Ella and Marco Beaumont were no longer alive.

How quickly does a death impact a family business? Minutes. Hours. Values drop and everything my parents had built would have been liquidated, sold off and melted into nothing. The Beaumont name would mean nothing and I refused to let that happen. I refused to let the animals that killed them, that took me and held me in their disgusting underground cesspool of hell feel the satisfaction of winning. They would not win. They could take my parent's lives, but they would not take down our livelihood, our name, our company.

My company. 

With a sigh I started on getting ready. The bathroom was large and rectangular with Emporador black marble countertops, dark walnut cabinets and draws, a crystal corner shower and, to the immediate left of the bathroom entrance, an inset cube bath. To the immediate right were the cabinets, and at the very end, flush against the wall were the twin basins enclosed in the countertops. Hanging overhead was a great mirror framed in dark oak wood with the Beaumont emblem engraved at the corners. I reached the sink, rested my hands on the counter-top and stared at my reflection. My blonde, bed ridden hair fell straight past my shoulders, the tips curling ever so slightly. I stared at my large brown eyes, my father's eyes, and could see the hopeless anger in them. The lethargy, the tiredness, the resentment. They shone with caramel tinted hatred and my lips gave a small smile. I began to hum, picked up the brush that rested to the left of what used to be my mother's basin, and brushed through my thick blonde tresses. After taming them, my fingers weaved through the hair deftly until I had two neatly hanging plaits. A lock of hair that had evaded my fingers framed the side of my face, its curled end brushing against my neck.

Once I was finished in the bathroom I changed into the Richmond High's uniform and, with one last  check in the mirror that adorned the eastern bedroom wall, proceeded to meet Giles downstairs.

*. 

“Emilyyyyyyy!” Elise ran through the school parking lot, erratically waving her hand in the air. She seemed to be clutching a small gift wrapped box tied with red ribbon that writhed with her movements. I sighed and hung my head. Once I opened the Jeep door, it would be a new day of pretending. Once I hugged Elise, accepted her birthday gift and listened to her talk about the mundane lives of our fellow classmates that seemed to spark so much interest in her, the events of the night before would be nothing but a distant memory. I would be nothing but another high school student.