Bodyguard (YN x Beyonce)

Part Four

The doorbell rang just as I was finishing up my post-run stretch in the living room. I glanced at the time and sighed. Right on cue.

I opened the front door to find Jay Z standing there in black shades, a designer hoodie, and that signature cocky smirk. He scanned me like he was trying to place me—like I wasn't already briefed and standing in his ex-wife's foyer for a reason.

He didn't offer a smile, just a chin tilt. "You must be the help."

I gave him a once-over, equally unimpressed. "You must be Blue's dad."

He smirked a little wider, stepping inside without being asked. "Where's Julius?"

"On a leave," I said plainly. "Personal reasons."

Jay raised a brow, taking off his shades. His eyes cut sharp. "And he sent you?" His voice dipped with a little too much disbelief. "A woman... to do a man's job?"

Ah. There it was.

I tilted my head, slowly closing the door behind him. "Yeah," I said, voice cool. "Guess he figured a woman who's put down a lot of men might just be overqualified."

That wiped the smirk off his face.

He studied me, expression flat but eyes calculating. Like he was trying to figure out if I meant it as a threat—or if I could back it up.

I didn't flinch.

"Is that right?" he said, slow. "You threatening me... in my own home?"

I blinked, slowly raising my brow. "Didn't realize this was still your home."

The silence between us was thick—coated in ego, tension, and whatever unresolved issue he clearly had with this house not being under his rule anymore.

Just then, footsteps padded down the stairs, and Blue appeared, backpack slung over her shoulder. Beyoncé followed a beat later, dressed in a soft cream robe and gold hoops, eyes narrowing the second she took in the air between us.

"Everything alright down here?" she asked, voice calm but cool.

Jay straightened, flashing that fake-friendly grin. "Yeah, we good."

I nodded, hands behind my back. "Just exchanging pleasantries."

Beyoncé's eyes lingered on me a moment longer, as if she could feel the static still hanging in the room.

Jay glanced down at Blue and ruffled her curls. "Go wait in the car, baby. I'll be right out."

Blue smiled giving me a small wave. "Bye, YN."

"Later, Blue," I said, giving her a real one back.

She gives Beyoncé a quick hug before heading out the door. The second it shut, Jay turned, and something in his demeanor shifted. He slipped back into that old charm—the kind that might've worked once, but now just felt tired.

"So... you been good?" he asked, stepping closer to Bey, his voice softening like he thought she still wanted to hear it.

"I've been fine," she replied, polite but distant, arms crossed loosely over her chest.

Jay let his eyes wander, clearly not respecting the space. "You're looking real good. Been working out more or something?" he said with a slight grin, eyes tracing her frame.

Beyoncé offered a stiff smile. "Thanks."

I stayed still, keeping my posture straight behind her, but I felt it—heat flaring in my chest, jaw tightening. I didn't like the way he was looking at her. Didn't like the way he leaned in closer, like they were still something.