Emily
I didn’t sleep well and by morning, the ache behind my eyes hadn’t faded, and no amount of black tea or cold water helped.
I moved through the house in a quiet fog. If Logan noticed my silence at breakfast, he didn’t ask. We spoke only of the day’s schedule.
Then he retreated to his home office to make some phone calls. And I sat with my tablet, intending to review the gala coverage like any other damage control.
The article was buried three links deep on a Pack ally’s event recap page. I almost didn’t click it, but the headline caught my eye: Chloe Blackwood appointed as strategic consultant for the Titanfang Education and Advancement Initiative.
Her photo was pristine, of course. Carefully selected. Smiling in front of a Titanfang emblem I’d never seen her stand near.
I stared at it for a full ten seconds, unsure if I was hallucinating. Then I clicked through.
The appointment was formal, backed by Titanfang’s philanthropic committee. A minor branch, yes, but it still meant Pack funding. Authority. Access.
She’d wormed her way in.
I didn’t think. I stood and raced to Logan’s office. His door was partially ajar. I didn’t bother knocking.
Logan sat at his desk, sleeves rolled, fingers to his temple as he read over a report. He looked up the moment I entered, posture straightening in an almost imperceptible way.
“I assume you’ve seen it,” I said.
His brow furrowed. “Seen what?”
I tossed the tablet onto the surface between us. He scanned the screen, and I watched the shift–confusion, recognition, then tightly controlled irritation.
He picked up the device, tapped once to scroll, then set it down with deliberate care.
“This wasn’t authorized by me.”
“But it’s under your name.”
He exhaled sharply, standing. “Give me a minute.”
He stepped into the hallway phone raised to his ear, voice low as he spoke with someone–his assistant Carla, maybe. I stayed by the window, watching the breeze stir the leaves outside while my pulse ticked behind my ribs like a slow metronome.
When he returned, his expression had hardened.
“My stepbrother Reid pushed it through last week. It’s already been revoked.”
I nodded once. “Thank you for fixing it.”
“That shouldn’t have happened.”
“No, it shouldn’t have,” I agreed.
The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It hovered, restless and unspoken.
I turned toward the door. I could’ve left it there. Professional. Clean. But something snapped just before my hand touched the frame.
“Were you ever planning to tell me?”
1/2
Chapter 68
+25 BONUS
He didn’t move. “I didn’t know it was finalized.”
“That’s not what I asked.” I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. The question landed anyway, low and heavy between us.
Logan took a step closer. “Emily-”
“Do you plan to keep her close?” My voice cracked, just slightly. ” your orbit. At your events. Will you go back to Chloe when you’re done with me?”
“No,” he said, too fast to be reassuring.
The next words came out sharper than I intended. “It didn’t look like ‘no‘ last night.”
He flinched. Barely. But I saw it. “I handled it,” he said. “It’s done.
“And I’m just supposed to forget the part where I found out with the rest of the public?”
“I’m not the enemy here.” His jaw clenched, eyes flashing like a storm cloud briefly lit from within.
“I know,” I said, but it came out tired. Because I was. And then I walked out. Because if I stayed, I might have asked those questions I wasn’t ready to hear the answers to.
By the time I reached the office, the anger had cooled into irritation.
I didn’t slam doors or raise my voice. That wasn’t how things were done here–and more importantly, it wasn’t how I wanted to handle it either.
