The Routine Change

The Harrington estate buzzed with gossip that morning. Whispers floated through the halls, bouncing from one staff member to another. Everyone seemed to be talking about the most unusual sight—the chairman's rebellious daughter, Amanda, jogging alongside Travis, the monk, of all people.

Earlier that morning, the day had started off on the wrong foot for Amanda.

"Father, you have to fire him! He came into my room this morning and started spouting nonsense!" Amanda's shrill voice echoed through her father's office as she stormed in, her face flushed with anger. She pointed furiously behind her, where Travis stood outside the office, calmly bowing before entering and bowing once again to the chairman.

Chairman Gregory glanced up from the book he had been reading, his weariness apparent despite his early start. He sighed, setting the book down, his tired eyes shifting between his daughter and Travis. The chairman cleared his throat, preparing to get to the bottom of yet another drama.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, though his voice carried the weight of someone who already knew the answer.

Amanda wasted no time spinning her web of lies. "He barged into my room at an ungodly hour, started bossing me around like I was some... some servant! I demand you fire him immediately!"

The chairman's gaze shifted toward Travis, his expression neutral. "Is this true, Travis?"

"Precisely, sir," Travis replied, his voice calm. "I signed a contract with you to help Amanda, and I've been following those instructions. Besides, I have the watch you gave me as proof of my conduct."

At the mention of the watch, Chairman Gregory's eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. Travis, having some experience with mechanical repairs from his time at the monastery, had tinkered with the watch the night before. To his surprise, it contained a tiny camera, audio recording devices, and Bluetooth capabilities—all designed to monitor him. Fortunately, he hadn't been wearing it during his private discussions with Penelope and Levi.

The chairman's lips twitched into a slight smile, and he cleared his throat before turning back to his daughter. "Amanda, I think you've misunderstood the situation."

Amanda blinked in disbelief. Her father—her greatest ally—was siding with Travis? That had never happened before. She felt her world tilt on its axis.

"Father? What is going on?" Amanda's voice wavered, her earlier rage fading into confusion.

Chairman Gregory sighed, motioning for her to sit. "I understand your frustration, Amanda, but you've caused quite a bit of trouble in the past. And after recent events, including your behaviour toward Travis, I've decided it's time for a change."

"A change?" she echoed, her voice sharp. "You think I need to change?"

"Precisely," he said, unfazed by her growing anger. "Your outbursts and anger issues need addressing. You've been indulged far too long. That's why I've entrusted Travis to guide you. He's lived with monks and undergone rigorous training in patience and discipline. He's the perfect candidate to help you."

Amanda was on her feet before her father could finish, fury bubbling to the surface once more. "I refuse. I won't take orders from this—this mountain man!"

"If you leave this office right now, you'll end up like your brother." Her father's words cut through her anger, freezing her in place. Her hand lingered on the doorknob.

The air seemed to thicken. Travis caught the name—Paxton. He'd heard whispers about the chairman's estranged son, but the details were always vague.

Chairman Gregory's voice softened. "I've given Travis full authority over you, and I won't interfere. If you choose not to listen, I'll take away your privileges, starting with your car. Then I will cut you off financially."

Amanda's mind raced. Her car? Her allowance? It wasn't fair. But seeing the resolute expression on her father's face, she knew arguing was pointless.

"Now, Travis, please escort my daughter back to her room. Let me know if she refuses to cooperate," the chairman instructed, his tone signalling the end of the conversation.

Travis bowed respectfully, his face unreadable, and motioned for Amanda to follow him. Still stunned by the turn of events, Amanda let herself be led out of the office, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

When they reached her room, Travis didn't say much. "Get dressed. I'll be waiting."

She glared at him, but her father's threat echoed in her mind. Begrudgingly, Amanda got ready, though every fibre of her being wanted to resist. By 6:00 a.m., they were jogging around the estate grounds.

---

The estate was unusually noisy that morning, with staff and guards whispering as they spotted the two jogging together. Amanda's face was set in a scowl, her piercing glares scaring away anyone who dared to stare too long. She couldn't believe what was happening. Her lungs burned, her legs felt like lead, and she had only been jogging for fifteen minutes.

Finally, she collapsed onto the paved path, gasping for breath. Travis, who had been jogging ahead, turned back to check on her.

"I can't... I can't do this any more," she panted, glaring up at him as he stood over her, arms folded.

"Fine," he said after a pause, "let's go."

Amanda blinked, not expecting his easy surrender. "Wait... really?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised you lasted this long,"Travis said, his tone indifferent. "We can try other exercises with the time we have."

Amanda's momentary relief evaporated as she realized he wasn't giving up—he was just switching tactics. She followed him, albeit reluctantly, to the gym hall.

---

The sound of Amanda's frustrated cries echoed through the gym as Travis helped her stretch. "You can't do this to me!" she shouted, her voice strained as he gently pushed her back into a deeper stretch.

"Yes, I can,"Travis replied, completely unfazed by her outburst.

"I'll make you pay for this. Wait until I tell my father how you treated me after we left his office!"

"Go ahead," Travis said, amused by her threats.

Amanda's face flushed with frustration, but she fell silent. She hated this. Hated that he had the upper hand. Hated that he wasn't fazed by her tantrums.

"I can't believe you call yourself a dancer, and you're this stiff," Travis remarked as he continued to stretch, ignoring her glares.

"Shhh!" Amanda hissed, her eyes darting around. "What if someone hears you?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone already knows," Travis said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Why do you dance, anyway?"

"That's none of your business!" Amanda snapped. "Now let me go!"

With a forceful push, she tried to break free from the stretch, and Travis released her just in time before she hurt herself. She struggled to her feet, using the equipment around her for support. As she leaned on the dumbbell rack for balance, disaster struck.

With a loud clatter, the dumbbells came crashing down, and Amanda screamed in panic. Travis moved swiftly, pulling her into his arms and shielding her from the falling weights.

For a moment, everything went still. Amanda's breath caught in her throat as she looked up at Travis. His arms were wrapped around her protectively, his face only inches from hers. Her heart raced, but not from fear. She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself, and pulled away from him.

As Amanda stood up straight, Penelope rushed over, her face pale with worry. "Miss! Are you okay? What happened? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Amanda, embarrassed by the scene, straightened her posture and glared at Travis. She couldn't let anyone think she had been weak. "I'm fine," she said stiffly. "I just thought I needed to work out, so I asked Travis to escort me."

Penelope raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension but saying nothing. She glanced at Travis, who nodded in acknowledgment before walking away. As he left, Penelope leaned in and whispered something in Amanda's ear. Whatever it was made Amanda tense up.

"I need to leave," Amanda said abruptly. "I have an early lecture today." Without waiting for a response, she gathered her things and made a quick exit.

---

Outside the gym, Amanda found Travis leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. Her anger flared again at the sight of him, but as she approached, she couldn't help but notice how peaceful he looked—his long lashes brushing against his pale skin, his expression relaxed. Before she could get too close, his eyes flicked open, catching her off guard.

"I'll come get you at 7:30," he said, his voice steady. "You should be done with breakfast by then."

Amanda bristled, folding her arms defiantly. "I always have breakfast at 8, and I leave by 10."

Travis stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "Oh, but I can. And this is just the beginning."

His smile was calm, but it carried a weight of authority that made Amanda's pulse quick

Chapter 13: Breaking Point

It had been a full week since Amanda Harrington found herself under the suffocating command of Travis O'Neil, the bodyguard her father, had forced into her life. Every morning, they fought—small, sharp exchanges that left Amanda fuming and Travis frustratingly composed. This morning was no exception.

The sun had barely risen over Harrington Mansion, and already, Amanda was in a foul mood. She marched down the grand staircase, her footsteps heavy, while Travis followed closely behind, his expression unreadable as always.

"You can't keep treating me like this," Amanda spat over her shoulder, her voice sharp. "You— you mountain man!" She fumbled for an insult, knowing nothing she said would faze him. "You're nothing but a— a son of a bitch!"

Travis's expression didn't even flicker. "Careful," he warned smoothly. "A young lady shouldn't use words like that. One more slip, and I'll torch that pink Chanel bag you love so much."

Amanda shot him a venomous glare but kept quiet. She knew better than to push him too far. She stormed into the dining room, determined to regain some semblance of control, but what she found there made her pause.

Her father, the chairman, was seated at the breakfast table, a rare sight. Usually, he took his breakfast in his study, pouring over reports from his various business ventures. Seeing him in the dining room was an unexpected development—and for Amanda, it presented an opportunity. Perhaps, if she played her cards right, she could finally rid herself of Travis once and for all.

Amanda slid into the seat closest to her father, filling her plate with food in silence. Travis, ever watchful, stepped forward and leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.

"You didn't greet the chairman," he whispered, his voice a low, commanding murmur.

She ignored him, spooning granola into her bowl with more force than necessary.

"I won't warn you again," Travis said, his voice a touch firmer now. "Show your respect."

Again, Amanda pretended not to hear him. But this time, Travis's patience wore thin. Without warning, he kicked the back of her chair, sending her tumbling forward, face-first into her Tropical Smoothie Bowl.

"Father!" she shrieked, her voice muffled by the fruit and yogurt now plastered across her face.

Gregory Harrington, startled by his daughter's sudden outburst, began to rise from his seat. But before he could move, his eyes met Travis's. Something in Travis's cool, unflinching expression stopped Gregory in his tracks. He hesitated, then slowly sat back down, recognizing the silent message Travis was sending.

Amanda, on the other hand, was furious. How dare he humiliate her like this, and in front of her father no less? She sputtered as she wiped her face with a napkin, glaring daggers at Travis.

"I warned you," Travis whispered, leaning in close to her ear once more. "Now look—your father isn't going to save you. Let's get you cleaned up."

He gently but firmly pulled her up from her seat, his grip on her arm leaving no room for argument. As much as Amanda wanted to scream at him, something about his steady hand on her arm silenced her. She could feel the strength in his grip, the authority that seemed to radiate from him, and it made her pause. She hated him for it.

"Oh," Travis added, his tone casual but with a sharp edge, "before we go, you need to pay your respects to your father. I don't know what I'll do next if you don't."

Amanda's breath caught in her throat. The weight of his words hung heavy between them. She glared up at him, her eyes flashing with defiance, but deep down, she knew he wasn't bluffing. Reluctantly, she turned to her father, her face still smeared with smoothie, and gave a small, stiff bow.

"Father," she said, her voice tight, "I'm off. Have a great day."

Gregory, though clearly confused by the spectacle, smiled indulgently at his daughter. "Thank you, Amanda. You too."

Travis bowed as well, though his eyes remained fixed on Amanda, watching her every move. With that, he led her out of the dining room and back toward her quarters. Amanda fumed in silence, each step feeling heavier than the last as her anger simmered beneath the surface.

When they reached her room, Travis guided her into the bathroom, turning on the tap and placing her hand on the running water.

"Clean yourself up," he ordered, his tone softer now, but still firm. He stood at the doorway, watching her.

Amanda didn't respond, but the anger in her eyes was unmistakable. She splashed water onto her face, wiping away the ruined makeup and the sticky remnants of her smoothie. As she stared at her reflection, bare and vulnerable, her mind raced.

She couldn't take it anymore.

Living under Travis's control, with her father backing him up, was unbearable. She needed to escape—get away from all of this. From Travis, from her father's overbearing authority, from the suffocating expectations that had been heaped on her since birth. 

And maybe, just maybe, she could find her brother, Paxton, wherever he was hiding. He had run away from the family years ago, cutting ties with them completely. Maybe he would help her escape.

Without thinking, she grabbed a small makeup bag and shoved in her essentials—a compact mirror, her favourite waterproof eyeliner, and a few other items. She wiped her face with a towel, giving herself one last glance in the mirror. The girl staring back at her looked determined. Desperate. Ready to break free.

"We don't have time for you to put on another coat of makeup," Travis's voice cut through her thoughts, a sharp reminder of her current reality. "We need to leave. Now."

Amanda gritted her teeth, biting back a retort. She hated him. Hated the control he seemed to wield over her life, the way he always seemed to know what buttons to push. But she couldn't afford to lash out—not yet. Not until she had a plan in place.

She yanked the bathroom door open, brushing past Travis without a word. He followed close behind, his presence looming like a shadow. It was infuriating.

They made their way down the corridor, the silence between them thick with tension. As they approached the front of the house, Amanda caught sight of the estate's staff going about their morning routines. She could feel their eyes on her—whispers following her every step. No doubt, they had noticed the change in her routine, the way Travis seemed to be with her at every turn.

It had been a week since this new arrangement had started, and already, the rumours had begun to swirl. Some of the staff said she had lost her freedom, that Travis was more of a jailer than a bodyguard. Others thought there was something more between them—a ridiculous notion that made Amanda's skin crawl.

But the truth was far simpler, far more unbearable. Travis was her warden, and her father had given him full control over her life. There was nothing more to it.

The early morning sun was just beginning to rise as they stepped outside. The estate grounds stretched out before them, lush and green, with the dewy grass glistening in the soft morning light. Normally, Amanda would have found some peace in the serenity of her surroundings, but today, all she could feel was the weight of Travis's presence behind her.

"We'll jog for twenty minutes, then we'll move to strength training," Travis announced, his voice steady and unyielding.

Amanda shot him a glare over her shoulder. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm very serious," Travis replied, his expression unreadable. "Unless you'd like me to extend our session?"

Amanda clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she knew it would be pointless. Instead, she took off running, hoping the physical exertion would at least help her burn off some of the anger that had been simmering inside her since breakfast.

Travis kept pace with her easily, his long strides matching hers without effort. It was infuriating how calm he seemed, how unaffected he was by the tension between them. Every time she glanced at him, she felt her blood boil.

The jog felt endless, each step a reminder of the control Travis had over her. When they finally finished, Amanda was breathless and sweaty, her legs trembling from the effort. She wanted nothing more than to collapse, but Travis was relentless.

"Into the gym," he said, not giving her a moment to rest. "We're not done yet."

Amanda followed him reluctantly, her body aching but her mind still whirling with plans of escape. She couldn't live like this, under his thumb, for much longer. Something had to give.

---

In the gym, Travis wasted no time, pushing her through a gruelling series of stretches and exercises that made every muscle in her body scream in protest.

"I can't do this anymore," she gasped, collapsing onto the mat after a particularly difficult stretch.

Travis stood over her, arms folded, his expression impassive. "You can, and you will."

Amanda glared up at him, her chest heaving with exertion and frustration. "You—are—a—monster."

Travis down at her, a little smile appearing at the side of his lips for a second before he looked back at the training. 

"No, you haven't found your centre. Once you've taken control of your core, there'll be no need for this rigid exercises." Travis said, then took his bottle and took a drink. 

Amanda's eyes were filled with hatred for the incredibly handsome man in front of her. Having no clue of what he meant, she used the little time she had to nurse the pains she felt all over.

Travis looked over at her and was reminded of the new intakes at the sister monastery, the girls would always cry and try to run away whenever it came to their daily exercises or even meditation. 

Meditation, Travis thought. That could help with the young miss's anger and sudden outburst. But how would he get her to meditate quietly and without a fuss. 

"That's enough for today, you can go get ready now. Remember, breakfast by 7:30 sharp and we're off.