It's late.

I've changed into a black tank top and short pyjama pants, keeping it comfortable. It's been a heavy day, so I decide to read a book in my bedroom as a distraction. But I'm thirty pages in when I conclude I don't know what the book's about. Constantly, I get distracted by Frank.

I'm not sure what to think of him. How does someone so young become 'such a good' bodyguard, like my dad emphasised? He can't be more than five years older than me, I'm sure of it. That makes him younger than twenty-three. He's quite tall: at least ten centimeters taller than me, and I'm already 1m75. I guess every bodyguard has to be in shape, so of course he is as well.

But his eyes... They look at me in a very intense way, like they try to read my mind. It makes me crazy. He looks at me like he knows everything about me. His continuous staring comes across as some kind of aggression, no, that's too exaggerated, as some kind of dominance or possessiveness.

I wake up around midnight, I guess I fell asleep over 'reading' my book. Hearing my stomach growl, I decide to go downstairs to search for some food. But when I open my door and walk silently through the dark hallway, still upstairs, I can make out a figure. Frank is walking slowly towards the window at the end of the hallway, concentrating on a device he's holding in one of his hands. What is he doing? My socks make no sound while I slink over the carpeted floor. I've come so close I can make out what he's holding. It's some sort of a little tablet with pictures on it. But when I come even closer, I notice the strange angles in which the pictures are taken.

Be damned, they must be security cameras.

Before I know what's happening, Frank turns around and with a rapid movement, he swings me against the wall. He restrains me, holding one of his arms against my shoulders. He furiously looks me in the eyes for one second, like he's ready to fight, until he realises who I am.

His facial expression softens and I expect he is going to let me go now. Only he doesn't. What is he thinking? He must've recognized me by now, so why is he still holding me against the wall?

"Let me go." I say less confident as I wanted.

Frank slowly releases the pressuring grip on my shoulders, only to put his hands on the wall, imprisoning me between his arms.

He gives me an amusing look. "You were sneaking up on me."

I swallow. "I wasn't doing anything."

He looks at me and stays quiet. When the silence becomes unbearable for me, but it doesn't seem to bother Frank, I speak.

"Don't you think you should've told me about those security cameras? This is my home, I live here." I straighten my back and fold my arms, while his arms are still to be found alongside my head. "You can't do this, whatever you're doing. You still work for me. Let me go."

Maybe I sounded confident, but I can hear my heart pound in my throat. What seemed an eternity later, he moves. He comes closer and for a second I think he is going to kiss me. But then he pushes back on his arms and turns around.

I can feel the tension dissolve into the air. My hands feel sweaty and my mouth tastes dry. What did just happen?

I look up. He stands at the window, observing the outside world. "I don't work for you, I work for your father. He approved the security cameras. I'm just doing my job."

I say nothing. Why didn't my dad tell me about the cameras then? He wouldn't withhold something like that from me. Should I even believe Frank? He can say whatever he wants, I still don't know him. I even feel threatened after what happened a couple of seconds ago. I don't know Frank at all. How can my dad be so sure Frank can be trusted? Because I certainly don't. But what should I do if he indeed can't be trusted?

I hold my breath when he suddenly turns around and walks towards me. He passes me so close I can feel his breath stroke my skin. "Goodnight, Giselle."