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The idea that Daddy would take out so many policies around the same time someone sent to kill me is too much of a coincidence. Daddy’s loaded though, he’s rich.
“You’re rich,” Logan corrects me aloud, as if he can read my every thought. My eyes narrow at first but then I'm lost.
“In a month anyway. Your mom—rest her soul—left everything in trust to you in case anything happened to her. How did she die, by the way?”
Logan’s clinical intel report, as well as his casual question about my mom, jars me. I sit myself down, taking in what I soon realize is something I’ve known deep down all along.
“He-he hated her. Told her to her face. He only married her for her money and connections. Once he was a senator…”
“How’d she die?” Logan growls impatiently, agitated because he knows how much this is hurting me. I guess I need to know the truth as much as he does.
“Skiing accident. She slid right off a ravine, apparently. They never found her body,” I croak back to him, hearing it way differently out loud for the first time.
Logan breathes heavily through his nose, sifting a couple more bundles he has stacked up.
“Your mom, a Swiss national, raised in the goddamned Swiss Alps, and she vanishes in a skiing accident?”
My face twists with embarrassment. It’s so fishy when he puts it like that.
I decide not to mention how Mom was both an avid skier and outdoorswoman. She’d never ski towards a ravine.
No wonder Logan’s fuming. It’s so obvious now.
He’s mad, but not with me. It’s as clear to Logan as it is to me who wanted me dead tonight. A man who made me think he had control of everything. A man so desperate for power and money, he’d kill his own family for it.
“I feel sick.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Logan says calmly, matter of fact. But I feel my head shaking violently.
“I need some advice right now, Logan. Not a murderer, okay. Isn’t one in the family enough?!”
I don't mean to snap at him, which actually only makes him smile, maybe because he’s included as family already whether he knows it or not. Hell, he’s all I've got if the man I thought as a father was all just an act. Same as I’ve always pretended with him.
The weird part of all this is I can feel the ‘crisis’ training my dad coached me on for so long starting to kick in. Not where to run or what to do either.
He’s gonna pay for this but with more than his life. His reputation is Daddy’s biggest and only real asset.
“Who do we need to tell first?” I ask Logan, already knowing the best way to deal with this is to blow it wide open.
“We are not gonna tell anyone,” he clips, looking puzzled. “Stephanie, it’s a lot to take onboard, but these are very dangerous people, people even I have no control over. We need to leave and fast.”
I know he’s right, but I know I am too.
“Hey. C’mere.”
Logan’s look softens. His huge hand reaches out for me. I snuggle into his naked lap, feeling an instant and familiar sensation that makes me grip the edges of the desk.
“Oh, Logan. Again? Here?”
As if I need to ask.
He’s more than a killing machine, that’s for sure. Logan’s physical strength extends naturally to his lovemaking.
Maybe it’s something about a girl half his age in nothing but one of his shirts and getting drilled by him on her daddy’s own desk.
Or maybe, just maybe, like me, Logan feels like he's found someone who actually gives a shit about him. Someone who wants to get to know him as something other than just her killer or even her protector.
“Logan!”
