Chapter 22
Sophie was no surprised to think about Logan. She jumped, hastily shoving her phone into her apron pocket “Yes, sir Right
In her Bussex, her thumb hit the screen. Eliana’s last two messages had been voice notes. Her clear, calm voice filled the sudden silence. (That should cover the suits. I’ll send you his dietary notes later.]
Sophie fumbled, panicking, and managed to stop the playback. The second part of the message-(It might save you some gret. He’s difficult, I know, but the pay is good. Just think of his complaints as a dog barking. Don’t take it personally — remained unbeard.
But the first part was enough. Logan walked over, his eyes casually sweeping over Sophie’s phone screen. He saw the wall of detailed text from Eliana Instructions about his clothes, his schedule, his ties.
All this effort, he thought, a smug satisfaction uncoiling in his chest. Just to make sure I’m dressed properly.
She could say whatever she wanted about divorce, could play–act at taking back the land. But here was the proof, plain as day she was still watching, still caring, still trying to manage my life from a distance.
Sending these messages now, of all times? She wanted him to accidentally find out. It was transparent He thought.
The thought that she was still orbiting his world, waiting for a signal to return, improved his mood considerably. So much so that when he sat down to a breakfast that was, as usual, not to his liking, he didn’t utter a single complaint.
The entire staff breathed a collective sigh of relief. The only one still sulking was Samuel
He didn’t care much about the food. He was a kid; he was getting bored of his mother’s cooking anyway and enjoyed the novelty of the chef’s creations.
His problem was school. Without Eliana’s patient, nightly tutoring sessions, his ranking in the elite class had plummeted from first to fifth. Without his previous grades propping him up, he’d be near the bottom.
Samuel wasn’t a naturally gifted child. He often struggled to follow the teacher in class. But Eliana had a way of explaining things that somehow made sense to him. Without her, he was floundering
Yesterday, a boy named Melvin had led the charge, taunting him, saying he was stupid, that his past first–place finishes had been fake, and he should give the trophies back.
Samuel came home seething, ready to tattle to his father. But Logan had just brushed him off with a dismissive, “Kids fight. Handle it yourself”
Bottling up his grievance, Samuel had barely slept. The thought of facing Melvin and the others again filled him with dread and misery.
Knowing complaining to his father was useless, he thought of the one adult who always took his side. “Dad,” he said, pushing his breakfast around his plate. “Can Isabella take me to school today?”
Logan looked down at him. “Why the sudden request?” Before Samuel could concoct an answer, Isabella’s cheerful voice rang from the doorway, “Logan, Samuel! Look what I brought you.”
Samuel seized the opportunity. “Isabella! You said you’d take me today! I thought you forgot!” Isabella paused for only a split second before her smile widened. ‘T’d never break a promise to you, sweetheart!”
She breezed in, holding two large takeout bags. “I know you two haven’t been eating well. I went all the way to Maggie’s Diner for breakfast. I’m the best, right?”
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::25 am P
Chapter 99
38 vouchers
She said it brightly, not sparing a thought for the household staff listening nearby. She began unpacking the containers on
the table.
Since Eliana lett, Isabella had found countless excuses to be at the mansion. Logan, out of a sense of obligation for her past life–saving favor, and their old history, tolerated her presence and never refused her gifts.
But tolerance wasn’t enjoyment. Truthfully, the food from Maggie’s, after the car ride, was lukewarm and soggy. It was worse than what the Eliot chef could make.
Logan found it hard to swallow, but he forced a smile. “I’ve already eaten. I have an early meeting. If Samuel wants you to take him, that’s fine. Thank you,” He stood to leave.
Isabella hurried after him, following him out to the driveway. As he settled into the back seat of the car, she leaned in, resting her arms on the open window frame.
“Logan,” she said, her voice dropping into a playful, intimate register. “I’ve been taking such good care of you and Samuel lately. Don’t I deserve a little reward?”
She was testing the waters, as she often did, probing to see how much of his old fondness for her remained. Logan didn’t seem annoyed. “You’ve been a help. What do you want?”
Her eyes sparkled. She leaned further in, tapping her cheek with a fingertip. “A kiss? Right here.”
The driver in the front seat stiffened, his eyes fixed rigidly ahead, hands gripping the wheel. He didn’t dare even glance sideways. It wasn’t his place to judge, but the thought screamed in his head: “The divorce isn’t even final!”
No matter how much he held back, the driver still couldn’t help but frown slightly. While Logan was also somewhat surprised.
Logan himself seemed taken aback. He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Isabella. That’s not appropriate.”
She instantly laughed, pulling back as if it were all a big joke. “I’m teasing! You’re so serious. But I do want my reward. There’s a charity gala next weekend. I don’t have an invite anymore. You’ll have to take me as your plus–one. You will, won’t you?”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
