Chapter 149

Ella

“Ella, I think you should move in with me.”

Logan’s words hung in the air, and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. Move in with him? Into that sprawling labyrinth of a mansion, filled with secrets and lies and dark corners? My head was spinning, but I couldn’t let him see that.

“Absolutely not,” I said, unable to hide my wry chuckle any longer. “I’m not moving in with you.”

Logan frowned. “Why not? My mansion has plenty of spare rooms. And it’ll make us seem more serious, so maybe we won’t need to resort to a fake wedding after all.”

“Oh? And why your mansion?” I shot back, squaring my shoulders. “Why not my apartment? Why should I be the one giving up my home in this ridiculous scenario?”

He chuckled, the sound echoing through the sprawling garden as though he had just told the joke of the century. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m dead serious,” I countered, crossing my arms. “I love my apartment, Logan. I worked hard to get it, and I’m not ready to give it up, not even for a minute. Why should I have to be the one to give up my life? Why not you?”

His eyes narrowed. He was no longer laughing. “It’s just a temporary arrangement, Ella. I’ll even cover your rent in the meantime. You’ll still have your apartment when this game is over.”

A surge of irritation washed over me. “You’re missing the point. It’s not about the rent or the logistics. It’s about my independence. Why should I give that up?”

There was a long pause. Logan’s gaze was steady, but there was something that I could see behind his eyes. Annoyance, maybe? Or humor? Finally, he spoke. “You’re making a big deal out of this, Ella.”

I scoffed. “Am I? Or maybe you just don’t understand what it’s like to earn something for yourself, something as simple as a home.”

The corners of his mouth tightened. Clearly, he didn't appreciate my jab at his silver-spoon upbringing. “It’s the sensible choice,” he retorted. “My place has more room, it’s more secure, and it’s closer to my family. It fits our narrative better.”

“So, I should just fit into your narrative, then?” I said, putting air quotes around the last two words.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair in a rare display of frustration. “It’s not like that, and you know it. My mansion has a staff, surveillance, and—”

“And what? A moat filled with crocodiles?” I cut him off, exasperated. “I’m not a damsel in distress, Logan.”

He stared at me, the intensity in his eyes unfaltering. “Don’t you see? It's about making it believable. And nothing says ‘serious couple’ like sharing a living space.”

I shook my head, my hair falling slightly into my eyes. “If it’s about appearances, then how would it look if the supposedly head-over-heels girlfriend suddenly packs up her entire life to move in with her millionaire boyfriend?”

“It would look like she’s committed,” he countered swiftly.

I could see he wasn’t going to back down easily, but neither was I. “Or it could look like she’s opportunistic, milking the arrangement for all it’s worth. Ever think about that?”

He paused, considering my words, but it was nothing more than a brief moment of contemplation. “It’s just a temporary arrangement, Ella. A couple of months, and you’ll be back in your beloved apartment, independence intact.”

“You don’t know that,” I said. “And besides, temporary or not, it’s a part of me I’m not willing to give up.” I met his eyes, and for a moment, it seemed like he actually understood. “If you’re so keen on cohabitation, why don’t you move in with me?”

His laughter rang out again, louder and more incredulous than before. “Into that tiny, little, crappy apartment?” he asked, emphasizing the words. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not crappy,” I said, my voice laced with indignation.

Logan raised an eyebrow, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Ella, no offense, but your place doesn’t have even the basic amenities. There’s no central air, you don’t have a high-speed dishwasher, your TV is like the size of a thumbnail, and there’s definitely no team of servants to clean up and cook.”

“Those aren’t basics, Logan, those are luxuries,” I said. “And besides, there’s something profoundly gratifying about cooking your own meals.”

Logan took his hand out of his pocket to run it through his hair, clearly irked. “Cooking your own meals might be ‘profoundly gratifying’ for you, but it’s just inconvenient for me. I have other things to focus on.”

“Afraid you’ll break a nail, are we?” I quipped, unable to resist.

“Very funny,” he said, his lips pressed into a flat line. “Either way, I’m not willing to give up my lifestyle to move into your little city apartment.”

“Because it would make you look bad?”

“Because it would make my father look down on me,” he admitted candidly.

As he said those words, a spark of an idea flickered in the back of my mind. Making Leonard look down on Logan might not be such a bad thing, especially if it meant protecting my sister.

All the signs suggested that Leonard was a viper, poised to sink his fangs into anyone he deemed unworthy. What if that became Logan? Perhaps I could use this relationship as a way to get Leonard to pass his fortune to Harry. Call it a bit of preventive sabotage to keep my sister safe, to give Marina what she wanted.

“Fine,” I said, shoving that potentially devious plan deep down, focusing instead on the immediate discussion. “But I bet if you came over for a homemade dinner even once, you’d see there’s a certain charm to my lifestyle too.”

“You wanna bet, huh?” Logan smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Yes, a bet,” I confirmed, locking eyes with him. “I’ll cook a meal for you, and if you like it, you move in with me.”

“And if I don’t like it?” he asked, cocking his head.

I narrowed my eyes, already scheming. “You will. But if you don’t… Then fine. I’ll move into your mansion.”

Logan extended his hand toward me. “Fine. I’ll take that bet. But I’ll wager that I’ll find the meal absolutely disgusting if it’s not prepared in my high-end kitchen by my home chef.”

“Afraid you’ll realize you’ve been missing out?” I reached out, shaking his hand firmly.

“The only thing I’ll realize is that some people should stick to takeout,” he shot back.

“Prepare to be surprised,” I promised, my eyes never leaving his.

“And you prepare to hear the most polite ‘this is inedible’ you’ve ever gotten,” he said.

I smirked. “You’re on.”

The tension between us was both heavy and light at the same time, a dizzying combination of excited competition and darker motives. I hated what was going through my mind, the plan behind it all, but it felt foolproof; to make Logan move in, make Leonard look down on him, and then…

Protect my sister, and give Marina what she wanted.

“Prepare to eat your words, Logan,” I said, smiling but not backing down an inch.

“And you prepare to pack your bags, because you’ll be losing your bet,” he replied, equally unyielding.