Emery’s eyes fluttered open. The ceiling above her wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t her room.
She sat up slowly, her body tense. The sheets were soft, expensive. The room was too clean, too polished. Cream-colored walls, heavy curtains, and dark wood furniture. Everything looked like it came out of a high-end magazine, She kicked off the nket and stood up.
She walked toward the window and pulled the curtain aside. Her eyes narrowed.
Tall trees. Endless green. It wasn’t a backyard. It looked like she was in the middle of a forest.
She stepped back, her heart picking up, and moved to the door. She opened it carefully.
The hallway was wide and bright. The floors were polished wood. The walls were lined with modern sconces and long paintings she didn’t recognize. The entire ce felt like a private estate.
She stepped out. Her foot barely touched the floor when a voice came from her left.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Emery turned her head sharply.
Logan stood there, his hair damp, a towel slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t wearing a shirt-only a pair of ck sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His chest was broad, torso defined. Sharp cuts of muscle lined his abdomen. He looked like someone who belonged in a fight ring, not someone who walked around a mansion like this was normal.
She quickly looked away.
“Where am I?” she asked. “You do know that kidnapping someone is illegal, right?”
Logan didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and started walking.
“Follow me.”
Emery didn’t move.
He turned back and walked toward her. Before she could take a step back, he reached for her wrist and pulled her along.
“Let go of me,” she said, trying to tug her hand away.
He didn’t let go. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm. She didn’t have the strength to break it without making a bigger
scene.
They walked down the hall. She noticed the architecture now-simple, expensive, and cold. The staircase curved into a wide foyer with high ceilings and a massive window that looked out to the trees. He didn’t slow down. She kept trying to pull her hand away, but he kept moving.
They stepped out to the garden.
A table was already set. Fresh bread, fruit, coffee, and eggs. There was even a folded napkin and a carafe of orange juice.
Emery finally yanked her hand back and stepped away,
“You dragged me here for breakfast?” she asked.
Logan picked up a cup and poured coffee. He didn’t answer. He ced the cup on the table and pulled out a chair,
Emery didn’t sit. Her eyes stayed on him.
He nced at her, then pulled another chair closer and sat down.
“Eat.”
She stayed standing.
“I’m not doing anything until you exin what this ce is.”
Logan leaned back. “This is where you will be safe.”
Emery blinked, then she frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I had to keep you safe. Taking you to my ce is the best way to do that.”
Emery crossed her arms. “Safe? From what? You can’t just take someone and say it’s for their safety. That’s not how this works.”
Logan didn’t respond.
“You kidnapped me,” she snapped. “This is illegal. I don’t care how good your intentions are. People are going to look for me. My family-my grandmother-they’ll call the police. I’ll press charges. I’ll sue. Do you understand that?”
Still nothing from him.
She kept going. “Do you even know what kind of trouble you’re in? You can’t drag someone to a mansion in the middle of the woods and pretend it’s some kind of favor! You should’ve taken me to the police if you were so worried. But no-you grabbed me and dumped me here like some kept woman—”
Logan reached for a tablet sitting beside the coffee tray. He slid it across the table.
Emery paused mid-sentence. She frowned.
“What’s that?”
“Look.”
She hesitated, then picked it up.
The screen lit up. Her eyes scanned the headline. Her breath caught. A familiar street. A security cam still.
Her name was blurred in the report, but she recognized the event.
The near ident.
The one from a few nights ago with Nina. A ck car hade out of nowhere and nearly hit them.
Her grip on the tablet tightened. She scrolled down. Another image. A zoomed-in frame. The license te. The name is tied to the registration.
“Why would Talia try to hurt me?” Emery asked without looking up. “I already gave up, Samuel. I left.”
Logan didn’t answer right away. He watched her.
She raised her head. “Why?”
He leaned forward slightly. “Why do you think?”
Emery frowned and looked back at the tablet. The next page loaded. This one had names. Her eyes stopped on a familiar one-Talia’s manager. Then her gaze moved lower.
One name matched with the car servicepany. The contact was made days before the incident. Payment made under a fake ount,ter traced back to a shellpany-one owned by someone in Talia’s circle.
Emery’s fingers hovered above the screen. “How did you get this?”
Logan didn’t answer. Instead, he reached forward and swiped to the next file.
Her eyes widened.
A picture showed Talia strapped to a stretcher, medics wheeling her toward an ambnce. Her hair was matted. Her face pale. Cameras surrounded the scene, lights shing.
“You-what did you do?” Emery asked.
Logan leaned back. “Just gave her a taste of her own medicine.”
Emery quickly scrolled through the report. A crash. Talia’s name is listed. The article said she had been drivingte at night. Alone. The vehicle hit a barrier and flipped. She was found with alcohol in her system. No one else was hurt.
She kept reading.
The press turned ugly. Sponsors were pulling out. One endorsement deal already suspended. Comments filled the article. The public wasn’t buying her apology.
Emery lowered the tablet slowly.
She sat down. For once, she didn’t have aeback.
She didn’t feel sorry. But she didn’t feel relieved either.
She looked up. “You really did this?” For a second, disbelief marred her features. How could someone simply say that? Why was this person so nonchnt about hurting other people?
Logan took a slow sip of his coffee. After a beat, he said, “I told you I’d keep you safe. But I never said the people who hurt you would be.”