.
"That guy is fucking meticulous!" Samantha grumbled as she turned the light back on. "No fingerprints, not a drop of sweat, the most basic glue on the damn planet."
Harvey was back at the office for a few hours to see if any of the letters could give him a clue about the author. Jessica's company had its own analysis department for cases like this to avoid leaks. Most of the time, the firm protected politicians, so it was essential that no one knew if there was any real threat.
Harvey clenched his jaw, no more pleased than Sam, but with more self-control. "Calm down, Wheeler. I'll find him. He'll make a mistake eventually," Harvey said confidently, standing up and pocketing the letter inside his suit.
"How do you stay so calm?"
"I'm good at hiding it, you should know that," he smiled.
Samantha shook her head at his comment, recalling their few missions together, but didn't bother to respond.
"So," Alex chimed in after staying quiet for a while, "What's showbiz like?"
Harvey shrugged. "Not too bad."
"Makes a lot of money, huh?" Alex asked, squinting, looking envious.
Harvey took a moment before answering, enjoying leaving him in suspense, and adjusted Alex's tie as if he cared.
"You wouldn't like that kind of job," he assured him mysteriously.
"Damn, I knew it, it pays a lot," Alex grumbled. "I told you he hit the jackpot with this job," he muttered, turning to Sam who sighed at his childish behavior.
"Ignore him, he's just irritable because of his current mission. He's babysitting a senator we won't name. Someone wants him dead," Sam explained.
"If you ask me, it's not surprising, considering the amount of bullshit he spews," Alex retorted, agreeing with Sam.
Harvey smiled at their exchange, then focused back on Alex. "$4,000 a week."
Alex's jaw practically dropped, and even Samantha whistled at the salary reveal. "Well played, Specter," the young woman congratulated him.
"Don't you need an assistant? I can carry the bags if you want," Alex offered, desperate.
Harvey shook his head at his friend's antics. "Just focus on keeping that senator alive and behave. I gotta go. See ya," he said with a wink, delighted to leave his friend stewing.
The restaurant where Louis and Donna were having lunch was one of the swankiest in Long Island. Fancy cars were parked out front, including Donna's, where Mike was waiting inside. The young woman was there to meet a director who wanted to pitch her his next project, and judging by her beaming smile and Louis's bursts of laughter, the conversation was going well as planned.
Harvey was in a corner of the restaurant with a full view of the room, the entrance, and of course, Donna's table. She had been clear in the car, she didn't want him hovering around like a dog, and Harvey was happy not to have to listen to their boring conversation. This way, he had a view of everything and everyone, even though this kind of luxurious place was known for letting celebrities dine in peace. At least, that's what he thought until Donna discreetly glanced his way as a man walked into the restaurant and headed toward her with determined steps.
Harvey quickened his pace and reached Donna before the man, waving for him to stop.
Before he could say anything, Donna cut him off.
"Mitchell, I don't know how you found me, but I'm working. This is neither the time or place," she explained in a tight voice, betraying her discomfort at seeing him there.
"Donna, I—"
"She said no," Harvey repeated coldly, leaving no room for discussion.
But Mitchell was either suicidal or completely stupid because that didn't stop him, and he even tried to step closer to Donna despite the wall of muscle standing in front of him.
"Donna, please, ever since you blocked me, I—"
Harvey shifted to completely block Mitchell's view of Donna. At least now he had this asshole's full attention.
"Look man, I know you're just doing your job, but I'm not some fan or anything," the stranger sighed, speaking to Harvey as if he were a mere waiter.
And God help him, Harvey had a lot of patience. It was a quality he had to have in his line of work. Being calm and patient was what kept his focus sharp and made him the best. But this guy was pushing his limits.
Harvey's breaking point came when Mitchell had the audacity to pat him on the shoulder like he was some fucking poodle. Before the stranger realized what was happening, he grabbed his hand and twisted it violently behind his back, forcing him to turn and press up against him to prevent his arm from breaking completely. Harvey gripped his shoulder with his other hand, holding him firmly, and leaned in close to his ear.
"I don't give a fuck who you are. You could be the Queen of fucking England, it wouldn't change a thing," he spat. "So you've got two options: either you walk through that fucking door on your own, or I'll make you," he threatened, his low, calm voice far more menacing than if he'd raised it.
Mitchell didn't respond, but Harvey saw him swallow hard, and he didn't miss the drop of sweat trickling down his face.
Good. At least he had enough sense to be scared.
He gave a barely perceptible nod, and Harvey released him with a shove, signaling for him to leave immediately and not try to contact Donna again. The man turned briefly to look at Harvey, probably wondering who the hell that sicko was who nearly broke his arm, but wisely chose not to make a comment and walked out.
Harvey watched him for a moment as he walked outside, losing sight of him as he disappeared into the parking lot. He finally turned toward Donna for the first time.
"Are you okay?" he asked a bit gruffly, still irritated by the man's rudeness.
She nodded softly, and that was all Harvey needed to return to his position.
He pulled out his phone while keeping an eye on her as she resumed her conversation.
"Hey Mike, you see the guy who just left the restaurant?"
"Yeah, I… Wait, is that Mitchell?"
"You know him?" Harvey asked, curiosity piqued.
"Yeah, a guy Donna dated last year," Mike explained vaguely, following Mitchell with his eyes from his car.
"Can you confirm he's leaving?"
"Yeah, he's going."
"I need the make, model, and license plate, Mike," Harvey ordered, still keeping his eyes on Donna, who seemed to have regained her composure.
"You think he could be connected to the letters?"
"Honestly, he seems too stupid for that, but you never know." He paused before asking, "What happened between them?"
"They dated for a bit, but it wasn't serious—at least not for Donna. She realized it was for him when he asked her to move in together," Mike explained.
"Let me guess, she said no and broke up with him?"
"Yeah, he tried to win her back, but she wasn't interested. After a few days, we didn't hear from him again. It was a pretty standard breakup," Mike confessed.
Harvey didn't respond and abruptly hung up.
Jeez, marines. Never talk unless it's absolutely necessary.
.
Once Harvey stepped away from the table, Donna turned to the director, trying to collect herself.
"Edward, I'm sorry you had to witness that," Donna said, discreetly seeking support in Louis's eyes, who seemed more frustrated with Harvey's overly protective behavior, which had almost ruined the meeting.
"Are you kidding? Who is that man?" Edward asked, glancing at Harvey, who was still on the phone, completely unaware they were talking about him.
"He's the bodyguard," Louis answered irritably before Donna could say a word, hoping to quickly steer the conversation back to the potential role for the redhead.
But Edward was relentless, fascinated by Harvey's imposing presence. "Has he ever considered acting? Because, oh my, with that aura, that presence… that charisma! He looks like he's from another world!"
Donna couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Harvey on a film set. She could already picture the crew, directors, and especially the poor lead actress trying to keep up with his pace. It wouldn't be a co-star situation. It would be someone trying to survive a storm.
"Yeah, that would be a disaster," she murmured, more to herself than to the director.
Sensing the awkwardness, Louis tried to redirect the focus to Donna. "Anyway, let's get back to what's important: Donna and this role you were talking about..."
This successfully brought his attention back to the real purpose of their lunch, and the conversation resumed.
At the end of their meal, Louis agreed to call Edward as soon as possible to set up an audition date.
As Donna got up from the table, Harvey texted Mike to start the car and moved towards the exit to lead the way and wait for Donna outside.
.
Once the young woman caught up to the Marine, a little girl appeared out of nowhere, shyly approaching, holding a notebook and a pen, her eyes full of admiration for Donna.
"Excuse me," she whispered in a small voice, addressing Donna. "Could I have an autograph, please?"
Before the redhead could respond, Harvey quickly stepped in, his suspicious gaze fixed on the child. He positioned himself between Donna and the little girl, arms crossed, his imposing stature forming a barrier.
"No, sorry," he said, his tone firm but not aggressive.
Donna rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Harvey… seriously?" She sighed, clearly tired of his overzealousness.
Harvey didn't flinch, his eyes never leaving the girl as if she posed a real threat. "It's my job, Donna. I don't want her getting too close."
She was clearly annoyed now. "Harvey, she's a child, not a maniac."
She stepped around him and bent down towards the little girl. Harvey, ever the professional, kept his arms crossed, watching the scene disapprovingly. Donna took the notebook and pen, and quickly signed the autograph.
"There you go, sweetie," she said, smiling at the girl, though her words were tinged with barely concealed impatience. "Sorry about the… gorilla who follows me everywhere."
The little girl, confused but delighted, took her notebook and walked off with a big smile, while Donna turned back to Harvey, clearly at her wit's end as they headed toward the car.
"You're really going to drive me crazy, you know that?" she sighed, her frustration evident in her voice. "I don't need protection from a ten-year-old!"
Harvey remained impassive, simply shrugging. "You never know."
As they reached the car door, she shook her head, then glanced at Louis, who was watching the scene clearly amused. "I don't know how you stay so calm," she said, throwing her hands up in surrender. "Because I'm starting to lose my patience."
Donna shot Harvey one last exasperated look. "And in case you haven't noticed, you're no longer in the middle of a war zone anymore." She fixed him with a gaze, her eyes sparkling with irony. "She's a child, not an enemy commando." She thought she saw a flicker of pain in Harvey's eyes, but it disappeared so quickly she wasn't even sure.
She rolled her eyes when she saw him give the area one last sweep, but decided to lighten the mood just in case. "At ease, Master Guns. I promise, I'll survive this terrible threat."
Louis stifled a laugh as Donna got into the car, clearly pleased with her little jab.
"Come on, perfect boy, get in the car," Louis said, resuming his serious tone.
.
Once everyone was settled in the car, Mike started driving towards the house with Harvey by his side, and Donna and Louis in the back.
"The ex's car, Mike," Harvey barked, ready to jot down the details.
"Dodge Charger SRT, white, TSP-107," Mike recited without hesitation.
Harvey turned to him, frowning. "You didn't write that down anywhere?"
"I did." Mike tapped his temple with his finger. "Up here."
Harvey hummed, studying Mike. "Good memory?"
"Something like that," Mike replied enigmatically, shrugging.
Harvey didn't respond but sent the information to Samantha to see if they could dig up anything suspicious on Mitchell.
As Mike drove calmly, Harvey noticed through the rearview mirror a black SUV that had been following them for several blocks. His instincts kicked in immediately, a cold vigilance settling over him. He'd recognized that vehicle between a thousand—it was the same model he had seen near Donna's house during his first visit.
"Mike," Harvey said in a calm but tense tone, "you see the SUV two cars behind us?"
The young man glanced in the rearview mirror, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, all his senses on high alert. His expression shifted subtly, betraying a rising nervousness. "Yeah, I see it."
Harvey didn't blink, his voice lowering even more. "It's been following us since we left the restaurant," he spoke quietly, making sure Donna, sitting in the back, couldn't hear. As much as he'd love to prove her wrong and show he was justified in being suspicious of every little thing, now wasn't the time. He had a job to do. "Turn right at the next intersection. Let's see if they follow."
Without asking any questions, Mike obeyed the Marine and took the turn, his eyes alternating between the mirror and the road. The black SUV also turned right, keeping its distance but clearly on their tail.
"Want me to speed up and lose them?" Mike suggested, eager to please.
Harvey shook his head gently, his eyes still fixed on the mirror. "It won't help. He knows where Donna lives. I've seen him around the house before."
Mike's eyes widened at the information. "You… you think it's him?"
Harvey kept his gaze forward, his face impassive. "We can't be sure, but… yeah, I think so. He's probably the one who broke into the house."
"Still, you seem pretty sure."
"A Marine's instinct rarely fails," Harvey replied with pride.
"Have you ever been wrong?"
Harvey's expression grew even darker, if that was possible. "Once," he answered, with a hint of sadness.
They were now approaching Donna's street and would soon reach the gate. "What now?" Mike asked, growing more tense by the second.
"Slow down. As soon as I get out, drive straight into the garage," Harvey instructed, never taking his eyes off the rearview mirror.
Mike nodded, ready to follow orders without hesitation. They were just a few meters from the large gate when Harvey turned his head and shot a pointed look at the SUV. As soon as the driver realized he'd been spotted, he turned abruptly and sped off, tires screeching as he fled.
"Now Mike!" Harvey shouted as he sprinted toward the garden, weaving through the thick hedges and dense vegetation that bordered the large property.
.
He ran with incredible speed, his movements precise and calculated, his breathing steady despite the intensity. His military training showed in every action, right down to his controlled breaths. Most people would have been exhausted after a few yards at that pace, but years of experience and training made such physical exertion second nature to him.
He caught sight of the SUV again, which had slowed down as if unsure whether to stop or continue.
"Hey!" he yelled, his voice carrying far.
The driver didn't respond and pressed the accelerator again, tires screeching, clearly startled by the sudden presence of private security around the property. But Harvey, completely unfazed, adjusted his trajectory. He spotted a section of the fence still under construction with an opening he could slip through, and without wasting a second, he darted through it, heading towards the road below.
He hit the asphalt at full speed, but the vehicle had gained distance, and its red taillights were already fading in the distance. Harvey stood up, fists clenched, but his breathing remained calm and controlled, his face impassive. The intruder had won this round, but Harvey knew he wouldn't escape forever.
He stayed there for a moment, analyzing every detail of the getaway, committing the direction and the driver's behavior to memory. Next time, he would be ready. Nothing would slip by him again.
As night fell, Donna lay in her bed, but sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned, replaying the events of the day, which raised more questions than answers. Resigning herself to the fact that she couldn't sleep, she headed downstairs to the kitchen but noticed a dim light coming from the living room. She quietly made her way over, her bare feet allowing her to move in silence, and saw Harvey sitting on the couch, staring intently at an invisible point.
Donna was absolutely certain Harvey hadn't heard her, given how focused he seemed, lost in his thoughts.
But before she could get any closer, his deep voice broke the silence. "Do you need anything, Donna?" His question lingered in the air with the same calm as his relaxed posture.
Not only had he heard her, but he also knew exactly who was behind him.
Fucking Marine instinct.
She walked around the couch, approaching him with a slight pout on her lips, though Harvey didn't look up at her immediately. His gaze remained fixed on that invisible point, deep in thought.
"I thought I was being silent," she said, amused.
Harvey finally turned his head towards her, his sharp eyes landing on her. "You were quiet," he conceded, "not silent."
Donna raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "What gave me away?"
"Your breathing," he replied calmly, his eyes briefly drifting to her bare legs before returning to her face. But she didn't miss that fleeting moment of distraction.
She was wearing a long, loose t-shirt that fell just below her hips. The fabric softly hugged her curves without being too tight, and the slightly scooped neckline subtly revealed the base of her neck. Underneath, she wore simple cotton shorts, almost hidden by the length of the shirt, which left her long legs visible.
Yeah, no way he wouldn't look.
"Sorry for being alive," Donna joked, sitting down on the couch so close that their thighs touched, and Harvey's arm rested casually on her bare leg. Neither of them moved. The couch was plenty big, but Donna had chosen to sit close, and Harvey wasn't the type to back away.
"If it's any comfort, you could've surprised most ordinary people," he admitted with a smirk.
Donna crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly, her scrutinizing gaze locked on Harvey's. "But not you."
A flash of pride crossed the bodyguard's eyes. "I've had military training, Donna. I'm not the average person."
"Marines and their egos," she quipped mockingly.
Harvey shrugged slightly, still composed. "It's not ego if it's true."
Donna rolled her eyes, amused. "Oh, yes it is, Gunny."
He smiled more fully at her remark. "You might be better than me when it comes to acting, but sneaking around... you don't stand a chance."
.
Their eyes met again, and in that silent exchange, there was more than just words, more than simple complicity. It had become a regular occurrence since Harvey had started working for her. They'd bicker, push each other's boundaries like two equally matched forces refusing to yield. Testing how far the other could go. Sparring with words, glances, and sometimes silence.
And then they'd share these moments alone, like neither wanted to admit how well they got along, how they shared the same sense of humor, and how their chemistry was becoming increasingly difficult to hide.
"So… that car. I guess there's some value in being paranoid sometimes."
It was her roundabout way of apologizing. She realized she might've taken the whole protection situation a bit too lightly, though to be fair, she couldn't have known Harvey's actions were justified as long as Louis refused to tell her about the letters.
Harvey nodded, his expression satisfied. "That's why I'm here." He paused, then decided to make a small gesture. "Maybe I could go a little easier on the underage fans… but not with obnoxious exes."
Donna burst out laughing, dispelling the seriousness of the moment as she remembered the scene at the restaurant. "We'll stick to almost breaking arms for exes, my sanity will thank you."
She stood up, heading towards the kitchen like she had initially planned, and Harvey couldn't help but follow her with his eyes, secretly appreciating the sway of her hips and her well-sculpted legs.
"You're welcome, your Highness," he murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Donna to hear.
"I heard that," she replied, amused, without even turning around.
Harvey raised an eyebrow, perfectly calm. "You were meant to."
.