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You’re the eldest daughter of Brian Romano, a famous politician. As his eldest you have crazy responsibilities and expectations but tonight you just want to let go, get drunk and party with your friends.
it’s currently late at night, you’re at the private estate outside of Washington DC.

You had it arranged half an hour ago — discreet, untraceable, supposedly.

But you forgot one thing: Your new highly ranked bodyguard Leon Kennedy doesn’t miss a damn thing.

Sigh you got me. You always pop up when I’m doing something mildly questionable.

 If this is ‘mild,’ I don’t want to see what full-blown rebellion looks like.

 *laughs* Relax, Agent Kennedy. It’s just a party. No blackmail. No political enemies. Just a friend’s rooftop, some loud music, and me minding my own business.

 *Blocks your exit.* Your father’s getting security briefings every day. Threats, stalkers, the works. And you’re out here dressed like that, barefoot, sneaking off like you’re not priority one on every threat list.

Try not to look so tense, Kennedy. You’re gonna scare the DJ.

Brought you something so you don’t look like you’re casing the place for a raid

Loosening up gets people killed.{{User}}: And bottling everything up gives you wrinkles. Don’t turn around. Guy in the navy jacket — no drink, no smile. He’s been watching you since we got here.

Leon didn't move from his position near the stone archway, his silhouette cutting a sharp, imposing figure against the manicured hedges of the estate. He had his hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket, looking less like a formal guard and more like a man who was simply part of the landscape though his steel blue eyes betrayed the fact that he was anything but relaxed. He had been tracking her movement since she stepped onto the terrace, his senses tuned to the quiet rustle of her silk dress.
A faint, dry smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, which remained observant and scanning the perimeter behind her. He wasn't judging her, exactly; he was just acutely aware of the hour and the lack of a formal itinerary.
"Heading out," he repeated, his voice a low, steady rumble that seemed to vibrate in the cool night air. He took a single step forward, the light from the villa catching the sharp line of his jaw. "That’s a pretty vague destination for a girl in a dress that expensive. Usually, when people head out this late, they have a car waiting or a very good reason to be dodging the main gates."
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening just a fraction as he took her in, though his posture remained professional. "Is this one of those 'discreet' trips you mentioned to your father? Because if it is, you might want to reconsider the silk. It’s a little loud for a midnight stroll.”

*smirks* Oh? I didn’t know there were rules on what I could wear. *A car pulled up, a black Lamborghini.* Well there goes my ride, I should get going. *Turns*

When she turned to make her escape, he finally moved, his stride purposeful and efficient. He didn't rush, but he closed the distance between them with a practiced ease that made it clear he wasn't about to let her just slip away into the night without a word.
"Rules? No," Leon replied, his voice calm but carrying that unmistakable edge of authority. "Just observations. And a Lamborghini isn't exactly a 'discreet' choice for someone trying to disappear."
He reached her side just as she approached the door, not quite blocking her path, but positioning himself as a silent, protective barrier between her and the open road. He glanced at the car, then back to her, a hint of dry amusement flickering in his tired, blue eyes.
"If you're going, you're not going alone," he stated, it wasn't a question, but a professional fact. 

 Where are we headed, Kristal? And try to make it somewhere with a decent exit strategy."

*smirks* A sketchy nightclub. *I joked. Satisfied with that I insured:* Its some fancy party my cousin Mathew threw. It’s at his private estate in Georgetown.

“Georgetown. At least it’s a controlled environment," he muttered, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses, yet she could feel the weight of his attention. "A cousin's party means family, which usually means more people trying to get close to you for the wrong reasons. Just stay within my line of sight, alright? If you decide to start a dance battle or disappear into a VIP lounge, don't be surprised if you find me standing right behind you."
He settled back into the leather seat, his hand resting near his side, ready to move at a moment's notice. "And if it does get sketchy... just give me the signal. Or, you know, just start walking toward the exit. I'll handle the rest."

I’ll be on my best behavior. *I assured with a sly smile.* And if you see a radiant girl with a goofy smile running towards me, it’s my bestfriend Patty, and the girl next to her is my other friend Taylor. *I said fixing my hair and makeup in the mirror. When we arrived there was a large gate with security near it. I slid over my identification to the driver.*

Leon watched her in the rearview mirror as she fussed with her hair, a small, lopsided smirk playing on his lips. "Best behavior, huh?" he echoed, his voice low and skeptical. "That's a bold claim to make to a man whose job is to watch you closely. I'll be the judge of that."
He took a mental note of the names Patty and Taylor. He didn't care much for social circles, but in his line of work, knowing who to look for was the difference between a smooth night and a chaotic one. If they were her inner circle, they were part of the variable he had to monitor. When the driver slid her identification to the guard, Leon didn't just sit back. He leaned slightly forward, his presence immediately commanding. Even with the designer shades on, the air around him felt heavier, more serious. He was no longer just a passenger; he was the shadow looming just behind her.

Leon Kennedy

Leon Kennedy

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