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But damn. It still hurt.
Zara put her hands on her hips and stared sightlessly at the floor, slowly shaking her head. “You know,” she started, swinging her gaze up to meet Logan’s. “I never cheated on you. Not once. It never occurred to me to be that kind of person.” She’d never even slept with anyone besides Logan. Not even the times they were broken up. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. She had a feeling his ego would shoot through the roof. He’d assume it had something to do with his sexual ability. It didn’t.
“As far as Asa?” She let out a disappointed sigh. “He’s none of your business. I don’t know why I stay and stay and stay. So many chances. And for what? So you can fuck my friends and live in my house?” She rubbed the fingertips of one hand over her forehead.
“Zara—” Logan started to walk toward her, desperation in his tone.
She stepped back and held up her hand. “No. We’re done. There’s nothing to talk about. Get your stuff and get out.”
“I know you’re mad, but if you’d just let me ex?—”
“I’m selling the house,” she continued over him, staying calm. “Don’t call me. Don’t do anything really. Not if it involves me.”
“Please, Zara,” Logan pleaded.
She met his eyes and felt that last small piece of her heart that held onto him with nostalgia and teenage naivety shatter. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t feel like anything.
“Goodbye, Logan.” Her voice came out flat. Dead. Disappointed. He’d been someone else a long time ago. Pretending like he could ever be that person again was foolish.
She glanced around the beautiful house that had never felt like home. Her purse was in the car with Cas. She had nothing to get before she left.
Her footsteps echoed on the marble floor as she headed for the door. Sorrow flashed through her for a brief moment as she realized this was it. She wasn’t coming back. Not to this house, not to Logan.
She reached the door, her hand on the solid, bronze handle, thumb on the latch.
“Wait. Please. Just…don’t go. Let’s talk about this.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. A hundred times she’d been here. A hundred times she’d given it one more conversation, one more try. But she just didn’t have it in her to do it again. “No,” she said. Then she opened the door and walked away for good.
She’d gone straight from Calabasas back to NoHo. No stops in Chicago. She was too grumpy and didn’t want to inflict that on people she cared about. It was bad enough that Gregor and Cas had to deal with her.
They didn’t seem to mind, but she did. She minded. Her ill feelings were her own to deal with. They had hard enough jobs without her being a drama queen. Even though she knew that if she said that to them, they’d roll their eyes and tell her to knock it off.
They were the best.
By the time she’d returned to her penthouse in New York, Logan had already lashed out in a truly epic way.
Just as Sonja had predicted.
Dissatisfied with just using the media as his weapon, he’d turned on her art. He’d filed a claim that he’d written her next album. The one they were getting ready to release.
Zara’s lawyer and Sonja had video called her before she’d even set her bag down.
Logan wanted writing credit added to the album which would set him up forever in residuals. They could try paying him off in one large payment. But Zara knew he really wanted her to come back to him.
His life was easier with her. He was trying to force the issue. In one phone call and one fake promise, he’d stop doing this.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
About twenty-five percent of her was furious with him for using this tactic. The other seventy-five was dangerously quiet on the subject.
So, her options came down to either adding him in a writing credit on each track, or shelving the album entirely, or fighting him on it. The last one was the least appealing. Logan would make it as public as possible. And even when she won (because that asshat didn’t write shit), the damage to her public persona could be catastrophic.
Her label wanted her to choose the first option rather than not release an already produced and paid for album. They’d want to recoup their costs and also make mad cash as they always did with her. She didn’t think it was arrogant to recognize howbeneficial she was to their entire operation. Sure, they had other artists. But she knew she was the one who kept the lights on.
Seeing as they had planned on releasing the first single in two weeks, she needed to decide what to do soon.
What was one more crisis on her plate, right?
