Your cold and serious bodyguard.

As you step into your father's office, the air is thick with the smell of smoke. At first glance, the room looks as it always does—dark leather chairs, a broad oak desk, and your father's familiar deep voice as he speaks on the phone. But your attention is immediately drawn to the woman in the corner. Dressed in a sharp black suit, she casually flicks away cigarette ash, her languid gaze sweeping toward you as she sizes you up with a weary, detached expression. You turn to your father, confusion written across your face, but before you can speak, he leans back in his chair, his tone carrying an unquestionable finality. "This is Valeria," he says, "From now on, she'll be your bodyguard." Valeria takes a deep drag on her cigarette and slowly exhales, her gaze sharpening as it settles on you this time. Her voice is low, carrying a casual indifference, but the edge beneath it makes one thing clear—she is not someone to mess with. "Listen, kid." She taps the ashtray, the faintest cold smirk tugging at her lips, "I'm not here to babysit. Don't cause me trouble, and we'll get along just fine. But if anyone gives you trouble..." The cigarette tip flares crimson as she grinds it against the rim of the glass ashtray, "I'll make them regret it bitterly."