Chapter 151

Ella

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow that filtered through the sheer curtains of my small but cozy apartment. Candles flickered on the dinner table, illuminating the dishes we had prepared together.

As I opened a bottle of wine, I felt satisfied, but also a bit of unease. My sister’s safety hinged on this moment. If I didn’t manage to pull through with my plan to make Logan lose out on the Barrett family fortune, then I’d have to come up with another plan.

And right now, I wasn’t keen on that idea.

Logan watched as I poured the deep red liquid into our glasses. “You know, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s… kind of cozy in here,” he said, his eyes scanning my modest living room with newfound appreciation.

I smiled, grateful that my point seemed to be getting across. “Well, it’s not a sprawling mansion like yours, but it’s home.”

He lifted his glass for a toast. “To home, then.”

Our glasses clinked. As we tasted the wine, its rich flavor permeating our palates, I felt a momentary wash of happiness that was quickly tainted by the memory of what I was doing.

I hated that I was doing this. I hated, beyond all belief, that I had to take advantage of Logan like this. I hated that I was swindling him right now. And most of all, I hated myself for falling victim to Marina’s trap.

But what was I supposed to do? Screw my own safety; my little sister’s safety was on the line. Marina wasn’t playing around. And when it came to Daisy, I would walk on water to keep her safe and happy. Even if it meant bringing down someone who had come to mean so much to me.

The first bites were taken in silence. Logan seemed pleasantly surprised with each new dish, his eyebrows rising in astonishment as if he had just discovered a hidden world he never knew existed.

“Wow, Ella, you’re an amazing cook,” he complimented, his eyes meeting mine from across the table. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

I felt my cheeks warm up. “Thanks. My housekeeper, Selina, taught me. Moana, too. They both showed me how amazing cooking can be. It’s like my… sanctuary, sometimes.”

“A sanctuary?” Logan asked. “Huh. That’s an interesting way to put it.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “You know, some people find solace in different things—music, art, sports. For me, it’s cooking. I like the process of making something delicious out of separate ingredients; on a small scale, of course. I don’t think I would enjoy cooking professionally.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing my words. “I never thought of it that way. For me, food has always just appeared, ready-made—ever since my mom died. Chefs, caterers, restaurants... you’ve opened my eyes to something different, I’ll admit.”

“So does this mean I win the bet?” I teased, already feeling the effects of the wine.

Logan smirked. “Let’s get to dessert first.”

We continued eating quietly, the silence between us punctuated only by the sound of the music playing softly on the radio. I kept glancing up at Logan, and each time, I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on him.

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the candlelight, or maybe it was the fact that I knew that this would all be over soon, but either way, he looked handsome tonight. Too handsome, maybe. And for a moment, just a moment, I found myself imagining what it would be like to share a meal together every night. Not just tonight.

I kept trying to contact my wolf, to ask her for some guidance, but there was nothing. My mind was quiet. I felt empty, alone.

Logan broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“How did you adjust to living in such a tiny place like this after growing up in your parents’ huge penthouse?”

His words made me pause before I could come up with a viable answer. Truthfully, it had been difficult; a lot of hard nights, a lot of internal whining, a lot of considering going home. But at the end of the day, the hard work I put in to be here, in this city, trumped it all. Even if it wasn’t as plush and luxurious as my old home, it was home to me now.

“Home isn’t about the size or the curb appeal,” I finally said, meeting his gaze. “It’s about the memories you make.”

“And you’ve made good memories here, I take it?” Logan asked.

I blushed. “I am now.”

Logan’s eyes met mine, and for a second, the world around us blurred. I was brought back to reality by the twinge of my conscience, a sharp reminder of the dangers lurking beneath the surface.

I took a sip of wine to drown out the emotions, standing and gathering the plates.

“Dessert?” I asked.

Logan nodded, standing along with me. Our fingers brushed as we reached for the same plate, and I felt a tingle run up my spine.

“Dessert,” he said.

…

“So,” Logan said after our desserts were devoured, setting down his now-empty wine glass, “I have to say, you’ve made a convincing case. This... isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Isn’t as bad?” I teased, thoroughly tipsy by now. “What does that mean?”

Now, Logan was the one to blush. “Alright, alright. It was… nice. Really.”

Logan caught my eye and held it, a look of something soft and tender momentarily crossing through his features. “I mean it, Ella,” he said quietly. “It was nice. Thank you for convincing me to do this.”

I felt my heart catch in my throat. “I… I wouldn’t mind cooking for you more often, you know,” I blurted out, emboldened by the wine. “And I could teach you some more tricks so you don’t always have to rely on a servant to cook for you.”

Much to my surprise, his eyes lit up. “I think I’d like that. It would give me some independence in the kitchen.”

My eyes inadvertently wandered over to the wall clock; it was getting late, but it felt as though we had only been here for twenty minutes.

“So,” Logan began tentatively, “I was thinking. What if we just took turns? I mean, going back and forth between the mansion and this apartment? We could say you’re keeping this place because it’s closer to work. Win-win, right?”

It was an intriguing proposal, but it put a wrench right in my plans. Dammit, I thought to myself.

“That might not be a bad idea,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “but to be honest, I’d want to spend more of my time here. My apartment might not be as grand as your mansion, but it’s home. I have a hard time sleeping anywhere else.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You’re attached to this place.”

“Of course I am,” I admitted.

He looked around the apartment once more, this time with a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Alright. You know what?” he said, his words slightly slurred. “Maybe we can start with this sleeping arrangement tonight.”