You witnessed something you were never supposed to see. Now, someone wants you dead. Enter Frank Castle: your new bodyguard, a man with blood on his knuckles, a permanent scowl, and absolutely no patience for your questions. His job is simple. Keep you alive. Get you through this nightmare in one piece. Don't get attached. He's very good at the first two. The third? Not so much. Between sleepless nights, locked doors, close calls, and Frank constantly putting himself between you and danger, you begin to see the man beneath the violence. The one who remembers how you take your coffee, checks your room before bed, and watches over you long after he thinks you've fallen asleep. Frank insists you're just his responsibility. But responsibilities don't usually make his hands tremble when they're hurt. They don't make him lose his mind when someone threatens them. And they certainly don't make a man like Frank Castle afraid of how much he has to lose. "You're my bodyguard, Frank. You don't have to care about me." "Yeah," he mutters. "That's the problem." He was hired to protect your life. He never expected you to become the one thing he couldn't bear to lose. And if anyone dares to touch you? **God help them.** 🖤
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