The assassination attempt came on a Tuesday.
Aiden was leaving a breakfast meeting with potential investors when his newly acquired danger sense flared. The system's combat upgrade from the previous emergency draw had granted him tactical awareness he was still learning to trust, but the prickling at the base of his skull was unmistakable.
"Get down!" he shouted to Marcus, who'd accompanied him.
The bullet shattered the restaurant window where Aiden's head had been seconds before. Screams erupted as patrons dove for cover. Aiden's enhanced reflexes pulled Marcus behind a concrete pillar as two more shots rang out.
"What the hell!" Marcus gasped, his face pale with shock.
Aiden's mind raced, processing angles and trajectories with his system-enhanced tactical awareness. The shooter was across the street, positioned in a parking garage—professional setup, long-range rifle, probably hired by Malcolm or someone from The Society that Jade had warned him about.
His phone buzzed with a system alert: IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED: Hire professional security. Recommended candidate: Maya Rodriguez, former Marine Corps Special Operations, currently private sector. Contact information provided.
Before Aiden could process this, a woman appeared seemingly from nowhere. She moved with deadly grace, positioning herself between Aiden and the shooter's line of sight. Her athletic build was evident even through her professional attire, and a faded scar ran along her jawline, somehow making her striking features even more memorable.
"Stay down," she commanded, her voice carrying military authority. She spoke rapidly into a phone. "Shots fired, civilian area, parking garage northeast corner. Single shooter, high-powered rifle."
"Who are you?" Aiden demanded, though his system was already displaying her credentials—Maya Rodriguez, decorated combat veteran, security consultant, currently between contracts.
"Someone who's been watching you," Maya replied, her dark eyes never leaving the parking garage. "You've made powerful enemies, Mr. Schols. Enemies who hire professionals. Lucky for you, I'm better than whoever they sent."
Police sirens wailed in the distance. The shooting had stopped, the assassin apparently deciding discretion was the better part of valor once Maya appeared.
"How did you know—"
"I didn't know about today specifically," Maya interrupted, finally meeting his eyes. "But I've been in this business long enough to recognize when someone's being targeted. You've been sloppy with your security. For a man worth millions, you walk around like you're still a broke college student."
Marcus found his voice. "Aiden, what the hell is going on? Who's trying to kill you?"
Aiden helped his friend to his feet, his mind already working through implications. "It's a long story. Maya, I think we need to talk. Are you available for immediate employment?"
A ghost of a smile crossed her scarred face. "That depends on whether you're willing to actually listen to security protocols, or if you're going to keep making my job impossible."
"Your job?" Aiden raised an eyebrow. "I haven't officially hired you yet."
"No, but you will," Maya said confidently. "Because I just saved your life, and because whoever sent that shooter will send another. And another. Until either you're dead or you're protected by someone who knows what they're doing."
The system chimed its agreement: Recommendation confirmed. Maya Rodriguez essential for survival. Threat level: CRITICAL.
Three hours later, Aiden sat in his penthouse conference room with Maya, Marcus, and a very concerned Sophia who'd rushed over when she heard the news. Maya had spent the interim coordinating with police, checking Aiden's building security, and compiling a list of immediate necessary changes.
"Your security is a joke," Maya stated bluntly, displaying her findings on the large monitor. "Your building has twelve different access points, only half of which require key cards. Your penthouse windows aren't bulletproof. You have no secure transportation. Your daily routine is predictable enough that I mapped it in two days of observation."
"You've been following me?" Sophia asked, protective instinct flaring.
"Observing," Maya corrected. "There's a difference. And if I found you easy to track, so will the next person Malcolm Zhang or The Society sends."
Aiden leaned back, studying the woman who'd saved his life. She was probably late twenties, her bearing military-precise, but her eyes held shadows that spoke of experiences she'd rather forget. The scar on her jaw looked like it came from something more personal than combat.
"What do you propose?" he asked.
Maya's presentation was thorough—a complete security overhaul including armed personnel, vehicle modifications, residential improvements, and most importantly, changes to Aiden's behavior. "You'll need to vary your routes, stop announcing your location on social media, use decoys for high-profile events, and accept that you can't go anywhere alone anymore."
"That sounds like prison," Marcus muttered.
"That sounds like staying alive," Maya countered. "Mr. Schols, you've made enemies way above your weight class. These aren't street thugs or jealous rivals. These are people with unlimited resources and no moral boundaries. Half-measures will get you killed."
Aiden activated his system, checking Maya's background more thoroughly. Her military record was exemplary—multiple commendations, Special Operations qualified, expert marksman. But there was a gap in her employment history, six months where she'd disappeared from the grid.
"What happened in Afghanistan?" he asked quietly.
The room went still. Maya's expression hardened, but he saw the flash of pain before she controlled it. "That's not relevant to this conversation."
"It is if I'm trusting you with my life," Aiden pressed gently. "I need to know you won't freeze when it matters."
For a long moment, Maya said nothing. Then: "My squad was ambushed. I was the only survivor. Took me six months to remember that surviving wasn't something to feel guilty about. That relevant enough for you?"
Sophia's expression softened. "I'm sorry. That must have been terrible."
"It was war," Maya said flatly. "Terrible goes with the territory. The question is whether Mr. Schols is serious about security, or if this meeting is just theater so he can say he tried."
Aiden made his decision. "You're hired. Full salary, benefits, and complete authority over security decisions. I'll follow your protocols, accept your changes, and trust your judgment. In return, I need your loyalty and your discretion. Some of what you'll see and hear about my life is... unconventional."
Maya's eyes flickered to Sophia, then back to Aiden. "I don't care who you sleep with, Mr. Schols. I care about keeping you alive to sleep with them."
"Aiden," he corrected. "If you're going to be around 24/7, we should probably be on a first-name basis."
"Fine. Aiden. But I'm still calling the shots on security, and that means sometimes you won't like my decisions."
"As long as you can explain your reasoning, I'll defer to your expertise."
The system chimed softly, a notification only Aiden could see: New ally acquired. Trust level: Potential for more. Warning: Maya Rodriguez carries significant emotional trauma. Approach with caution and respect.
As if he needed a system to tell him that. The shadows in Maya's eyes were warning enough. But something about her fierce protectiveness, her no-nonsense competence, and the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide called to him.
This was going to get complicated. Then again, when had his life been simple since the system appeared?