Chapter 173

Ella

I awoke to the soft, early morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. I always found it funny how everything seemed so terrifying in the middle of the night, and so insignificant once the morning rays of sun began to break across the horizon.

As I stirred, I realized I was still in Logan’s arms, his steady breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against my back. A sense of comfort and safety washed over me, and I couldn’t help but smile just a little.

Carefully, I untangled myself from his arms, not wanting to wake him up. But as I slipped out of the bed and reached for my clothes, Logan stirred slightly and opened his eyes, blinking away sleep.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice husky and gravelly with sleep.

“Good morning,” I replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach. “Thanks for staying last night.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, a concerned look in his eyes. “You okay after that nightmare?”

I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing with thoughts of Marina and Daisy. The truth was that, no, I wasn’t okay. I wouldn’t be okay until I knew that Daisy was safe. But I couldn’t tell Logan that.

“That’s all it was: a nightmare,” I said with a forced smile. “Nothing worth talking about.”

Logan didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he nodded and seemed to let it go. “Alright, if you say so.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stretched, revealing the well-defined muscles of his back and arms. I couldn’t help but admire the view, even as I tried to gather my thoughts. Before he could catch me gawking, though, I quickly turned and slipped into the bathroom.

“I’ve got some work to handle today,” he called through the door. “And I’m assuming you do, too.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of anxiety bubbling in my chest. “Yeah. I do.”

I quickly finished dressing, but found myself unable to reach the zipper on the back of my work dress. Blushing, I stepped out of the bathroom to find Logan buttoning up his shirt.

“Zip me up?” I asked, turning around and moving my hair out of the way.

Logan walked over to me, and as he helped me zip up my dress, our eyes locked in the mirror. His fingers brushed against the back of my neck as he finished zipping my dress, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Ella,” he said, his voice soft, “you know if you ever need anything, you can call me, right?”

I blushed and quickly looked away. “I’m fine. But thank you.”

He nodded and said nothing more about it, stepping away and putting some distance between us.

“You need a ride to work?” he asked.

I almost considered saying no, but quickly realized that I was going to be late, so I accepted.

A little while later, as I stepped out of Logan’s car in front of my office building, I hesitated for a moment, feeling as though I was marching not to my doom, but to Logan’s.

“Have a good day at work,” he said, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil in my heart. “I’ll let you know if I get any more details about that case.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. “Thanks for everything.”

With that, I got out of the car and watched him drive away, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. I knew I had a job to do, cases to work on, but the implications behind my newest case with him made my heart feel heavier than ever.

Ema’s voice echoed inside my mind as I walked up the steps to the building. “What are you going to do about this case, Ella?”

I sighed, feeling sick just from the thought of it. “I don’t know.”

And truthfully, I didn’t know. Marina’s instructions were clear, but the path was muddy. It pained me just to think about sending Logan to prison, but I was caught between a rock and a hard place.

I entered the bustling office and headed straight for the coffee machine. As I poured myself a cup, a coworker approached me, a curious expression on her face.

“Hey, Ella,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “what happened yesterday? You ran out in such a hurry. Is everything okay?”

I took a sip of my coffee, trying to come up with a quick response. “Just something that came up unexpectedly,” I replied, keeping it vague. “I had to rush out. Nothing serious.”

She nodded, although I could tell that she didn’t believe me. “Oh. Okay.”

I gave her a small, stiff smile. “Trust me, I’m fine.”

Before she could answer, I made my way to my office and shut the door behind me. I sat down at my desk with a heavy sigh, taking another sip of coffee as I looked at the papers and folders splayed out in front of me.

Logan’s case, of course, glared at me from the top of the pile.

I knew I had to make everything look official on the surface, to fool Logan and anyone else who might be watching. But secretly, I needed to build up a dossier filled with twisted information that would make it look as though he was the one who had set the building on fire.

The very thought of it hurt both me and Ema. He was our fated mate, and now I was betraying him in the worst possible way.

But what choice did I have? Marina’s threats loomed over me, and I couldn’t risk Daisy’s safety.

I pulled out a blank notepad and began jotting down ideas, my thoughts racing as I tried to come up with a plan. I needed to create a trail of evidence that would lead straight to Logan, one that was convincing enough to satisfy anyone who might be investigating.

But at the same time, I needed to make it appear as though I was on his side; both to him and the court.

The first step was to gather information about Logan’s recent activities. I needed to find out where he had been, who he had been meeting with, and what he had been saying.

Next, I needed to create a motive.

Why would Logan want to set the building on fire? It had to be something that made sense, something that would fit into the narrative I was constructing. Maybe it was a financial motive, a dispute over a business deal gone wrong.

It had to be plausible, something that would make sense to anyone looking into the case.

Then came the most difficult part: planting false evidence.

I would need to find a way to link Logan to the scene of the fire, to make it look as though he had been there. That would require some careful manipulation of security footage, forged documents, and maybe even some planted physical evidence.

And that was where the extent of my plan came to an end. I didn’t know the first thing about forging documents, manipulating footage, or planting physical evidence. Awful things like that had never even occurred to me before.

Where would I even start? And how could I not only keep this treachery hidden from the court, but also from the man I had grown to care so much about?