Chapter 215

Logan

In the dead of night, the silence of my room felt oppressive, almost as if there was a tangible weight on my chest. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and yet I wasn’t even close to finding sleep.

My mind was a battlefield, thoughts of Ella, her past, and her reluctance to trust me swirling in a relentless storm. I wanted to empathize, to understand her pain, but frustration clawed at me. How could I make her see that I had changed, that my feelings for her were genuine?

“Perhaps you were a little too harsh with her,” my wolf said as I laid there. “Maybe walking out wasn’t the appropriate thing to do.”

I let out a soft sigh. “I know,” I said under my breath as I ran a hand through my hair. “But I didn’t know what else to do. After all this time, she only sees me as a manipulator who’s trying to take advantage of her.”

“I know it hurts, Logan,” my wolf replied after a beat of silence. “But look at it from her perspective: you’re still racing against your brother for this inheritance. You could walk away, let the money go, but you don’t. And Ella, as always, is caught in this game. Why? Why not just leave it all behind you, start fresh?”

My wolf’s words gave me pause. Admittedly, it hadn’t crossed my mind. Vying against my brother for the family fortune had become so natural to me that it was akin to breathing; I never even thought about it. I just… did it.

However, before I could come up with a response for my wolf, my phone’s shrill ring cut through the silence of the room. Furrowing my brow, I reached over to the bedside table to pick it up. The display showed it was the housekeeper from my father's mansion. A sense of foreboding washed over me as I answered.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Logan, it’s about your father,” she said without preamble, her voice shaking slightly. “He’s had a medical emergency. He’s okay right now, but—”

“I’ll be there soon,” I said without waiting for her to finish. “He’s at home still?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ll let Mr. Barrett know you’re coming.”

Without hesitation, I was on my feet, grabbing my keys and jacket. As much as my father and I had our differences, he was still family; and with my mother gone and Harry pretty much dead to me, my father was all I had left. The drive to his mansion was a blur, my thoughts racing as fast as the car.

Arriving at his imposing home, I was led to his bedroom by the housekeeper. The sight of him, frail and hooked up to medical machines, was jarring. For all our disagreements, I had never seen Leonard, my father, so vulnerable.

“He had a minor heart attack, but he’s stable now,” the housekeeper informed me before leaving us alone.

I approached the bedside, my heart pounding in my chest. “Hey, dad,” I said, pulling up a chair so I could sit next to him. “I came as soon as I could. How are you feeling?”

My father scoffed. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he retorted as he gestured to the IV sticking out of his arm. “I told that damn doctor that I didn’t need all of this, that I was fine, but she insisted.”

I swallowed. “You had a heart attack, dad,” I said. “They have to do this sort of thing. It’s protocol.”

“Ah, bollocks,” my father said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m a Barrett. All I need is a fine whiskey and a cigar, and I’ll be right as rain.”

His words made me sigh. My father was getting on in years; he was almost seventy now. He had had me with my mother when he was much older than her, and although his age never showed, it was clearly starting to catch up to him now.

“Dad, you need to take this seriously,” I found myself saying. “Have you thought about... getting your affairs in order or anything like that?”

Leonard’s response was dismissive, almost arrogant. “I’ve got everything under control, boy,” he said. “In fact, I’m considering leaving the fortune to Harry.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. Harry? My brother, the one who wasn’t even here? The one who I had been fighting tooth and nail against?

“You’re giving it to… Harry?” I asked, my voice tense.

My father shrugged. “Yes,” he said, leveling me with a gaze that was both cold and mocking. “Is that a problem, Logan?”

It was all I could do to keep myself from leaping to my feet and shouting. “No, I… I don’t have a problem with it,” I said. “But… dad, after all I’ve done, all I’ve tried to achieve, after all I’ve proven, why him? Why Harry?”

He looked away, his expression unreadable. “You’ve always been too ambitious for your own good, Logan,” he said. “Harry is older, more... responsible.”

“Responsible?” I choked out. “I’ve bent over backwards trying to meet your standards, and you think I’m not the responsible one?”

There was a long silence. His eyes met mine, and in them, I saw nothing but indifference. “I fail to see what you have accomplished,” he said. “So what, you shacked up with a wealthy woman and struck a few business deals? That means nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

“And what has Harry accomplished?” I asked. “He married an heiress, too. He’s done nothing but get himself tangled up in even more crime, even going so far as to—”

“Oh, here we go again with your petty disagreements,” my father interjected. “Logan, you and Harry have been at odds for as long as I can remember.”

“At odds?” I scoffed. “Dad, he’s tried to kill me on multiple occasions. He’s trying to…”

“Don’t say it,” my wolf interjected before I could finish. “If you tell him what you know, then Harry and Marina will know that you and Ella are stringing them along. Think about Ella. Think about her sister.”

I stopped in my tracks. My wolf was right; I couldn’t let slip that I knew about Harry and Marina’s plan. “Dad,” I finally said with an exasperated sigh, “I’ve done everything to make you proud. But it’s never enough. You keep moving the goalposts, making it impossible for me to reach them.”

My father said nothing. The room felt colder then, the beeping of the machines a stark reminder of the fragility of life. “This constant chase for your approval, it’s tearing me apart,” I said quietly. “It’s even affecting my relationship with Ella.”

My father scoffed. “Ella? You think your insipid little romance is of any concern to me?”

The anger boiled over in me. “Yes, it should be! Because of this pointless competition, I might lose her! She means more to me than any inheritance.”

My wolf stirred in my mind, a voice of reason trying to break through my anger. “Logan, stop. Think about what you’re saying.”

But the years of pent-up frustration wouldn’t be silenced. I stood, curling my hands into fists at my sides. “You know what, Dad? I’m done. I’m done trying to please you.”

Leonard’s gaze hardened. “Then leave, Logan. Before I decide Harry is the only son worth acknowledging.”

I stormed towards the door, but his voice stopped me. “Harry would never behave like this,” he said under his breath, although I knew I was meant to hear it. “You’re just like your mother—never satisfied, always wanting more.”

The mention of my mother was the last straw. I spun around, my voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you dare speak about her like that.”

But he just sneered, dismissing my anger. “As if you knew the first thing about that bitch,” he hissed. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Logan. Just like her, you’re lazy, stupid, useless, and you leech off of others’ success.”

I scoffed. “If that’s the case, if I’m really all of those things, then I think I must take after you, dad.”

My father’s eyes widened, but only momentarily. I didn’t stick around to hear what else he had to say. Without another word, I turned on my heel and flung the door open, storming out. My father’s voice called after me, hoarse and angry.

“Final straw, Logan!” he shouted. “The final straw!”

No matter how badly I wanted to, I didn’t turn back. I let the door slam behind me, and at that moment, I didn’t care about the money anymore.

In the hallway, I collided with Harry, his smirk only fueling my rage. “Hello, brother,” he said as he approached. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Likewise,” I hissed.

Our shoulders clashed as he passed, but I resisted the urge to turn on him and escalate the situation.

I just needed to get out of here, away from the thick air, away from the sound of my father’s voice and the weight of what that bastard had said about my mother.