Chapter 130

Ella

The moment I stepped into my office for the first time after that whirlwind of a trip, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I slumped into my chair, staring blankly at the stack of paperwork on my desk. Each document seemed to scream for my attention, but my mind was elsewhere.

Logan.

The very thought of his name sent a rush of mixed emotions swirling through me. The intensity of the last few days had left me emotionally drained, a confusing tangle of yearning and doubt. We had slept together, yes, and I had pushed him away.

But it wasn’t just him. It was my wolf, too.

She was gone. Not sleeping, not tired, but… dormant. She was so angry with me for pushing away our fated mate that she disappeared entirely, and I didn’t know how to get her bag. No amount of mental begging over the past two days had solved the issue.

No matter how much I cried, no matter how much I yelled, she was just gone. It was as if it was her way of reminding me that I had royally messed up with Logan, and I had pissed her off in the process.

I had had fights with my wolf before. Our personalities often clashed, flip sides of the same coin. But she had never abandoned me like this. She had never been so devastated and hurt by my actions that her response was to disappear altogether.

And I had never felt so alone.

As if on cue, my office door swung open before I had even been sitting there for ten minutes. Surprised, I looked up expecting to see Sarah or one of my other coworkers, but it was someone else entirely.

Logan was standing there, his expression unreadable, a far cry from the playful charm he had shown during the trip.

“Are you free?” he asked, both his posture and his tone as stiff as ever. I felt the atmosphere in the room thicken immediately, but I nodded, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah. I’m free,” I answered cautiously, gesturing to the chair opposite my desk.

He took a seat but didn’t speak right away. The silence stretched between us, a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge.

“I figured we should start planning our ‘engagement party’,” he finally said, breaking the silence. His voice was devoid of any warmth. He was utterly businesslike, as if he were discussing a board meeting and not a party with someone he had slept with a few days prior.

Not that I blamed him, though. I was the one who had pushed him away—rather violently, might I add—after all. But I didn’t expect to see him so soon after our trip.

“Why the sudden urgency?” I couldn’t help but ask, trying to read his poker face.

He shrugged. “The sooner we get this over with, the better,” he answered curtly. “If we can show my dad we’re serious, I’m certain he’ll choose me as the heir over my brother. Then we can go our separate ways.”

I felt like I had been slapped. His words were a stark reminder of the nature of our arrangement, and in a strange way, I almost hadn’t been expecting it to ever really come to this.

“So that’s it?” I found myself asking, my throat dry. “Just the engagement party, and then we’re done? I thought we had a year.”

“We did,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. Rather than their usual ocean blue, they almost looked like a muted shade of gray in the dim light of my office. “But why continue if we already have what we want? Your career is booming—” he gestured to the stack of papers on my desk, new clients who had heard of my work and wanted to hire me, “—and I have my business partnership with your father.”

His voice was cold, distant, as though he had flipped a switch and turned off all the warmth and emotion I had started to see in him. And although I hated to admit it, I couldn’t deny it; a small part of me was disheartened to hear him speak so casually about ‘the end’ of our arrangement, no matter how fake it all was.

But another part of me wondered if this was for the best. It was almost over, just as I had always wanted. Right?

“Of course, we’ll likely need to keep up appearances for a while afterwards so as not to raise suspicions,” he continued, resting his elbows on the sides of the chair and tenting his fingers like a business mogul in action. “But it won’t need to be anything in-depth; a picture here and there, something like that until we can both let it fade away and tell everyone that it didn’t work out in the end. I’ll hire a photographer so we can get a stockpile of pictures, and that way we won’t need to see each other.”

My eyes widened slightly. The way he had said it: ‘we won’t need to see each other’. I hated that I was feeling this way, but it made my heart sink. Now, more than ever, I wished that Ema was here to share in my dread.

“So, what do you say?” Logan asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the tinge of sadness that tried to creep into my voice. “Alright. Let’s plan the party.”

For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something cross Logan’s face. Was it relief? Or disappointment? I couldn’t tell.

“Great,” he said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a folder. “Do you have time now?”

I nodded stiffly, surprised by his urgency. “Sure. I can do it now.”

“Good.”

I watched him with mixed emotions as he tapped his pen on a blank page, a furrow forming between his brows. “First off, venue.”

“Venue?” I asked, my voice barely more than a murmur.

He looked up, his eyes locking onto mine. “Yes. It has to be somewhere neutral but fancy. My family has a reputation, you know.”

“Right,” I said, nodding. “But I don’t know anywhere near here—”

“I’ll put down the Brighton Winery outside of town. It’ll be perfect,” he said, jotting in his folder.

I nodded, swallowing. “Okay… And the guest list?” I asked.

“The usual suspects,” he answered. “Family, close friends, business associates.”

“And who, exactly, are the usual suspects?”I pressed, determined to get into the nitty-gritty details if we were doing this.

He sighed, obviously not relishing the idea of diving into specifics. “Fine, I’ll email you a list tonight.”

“What’s the theme?” I found myself asking.

“Theme?” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s an engagement party, not a quinceañera.”

“I mean, we need some level of cohesiveness,” I argued. “Colors, at least.”

“Fine. You choose,” he relented.

“Black and white? Hint of gold, maybe?”

Logan considered for a moment before nodding. “Black, white, and gold it is.”

We spent the next hour hashing out details, from floral arrangements to the balloon colors—black, white, and gold, of course, to match the theme.

“What about the food?” I asked, looking at the clock and realizing we had been at this for quite some time without a single smile or joke between us. It was a far cry from the Logan I had come to know, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all my fault.

He shrugged. “Hors d’oeuvres, champagne, the usual.”

“The usual,” I echoed, rolling my eyes. “You really are a man of details, aren’t you?”

Logan shrugged once more. I almost expected a smile to grace his lips, but there wasn’t even a ghost of one. “I’ll talk to my chefs and I’ll send you a menu tonight, along with the guest list. Alright?”

I nodded. Something tugged at my stomach, seeing him like this. Logan, the man who loved all things food, was now so detached from it all. I found myself clearing my throat, averting my gaze. “Um… Music?” I questioned, returning to the task at hand.

Instead of answering, though, Logan suddenly sighed. I glanced up to see him looking at his watch with a serious look on his face. “I’ve got another meeting. Anything else you need?” he asked, snapping his notebook shut, signaling that he was done for now.

“I, um… I think that covers the basics,” I said, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.

“Good,” he replied, standing up. “I’ll pick you up on the day of the party. Wear something nice.”

That caught me off guard, and my eyes widened slightly. Was he implying that we wouldn’t see each other at all until the party?

For some reason, I found myself standing to meet his gaze, my hands curling nervously around the hem of my blazer.

“But the party’s not for another month!”