“What’s going on?” Emery asked as Logan got into the car. “Who are those people!?”


    Logan shut the door behind him. “Just some people who wanted to work with me.”


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    She blinked. “Work with you? By chasing after us? Blocking the road? And you didn’t call the police<i>?</i><i>” </i>


    “It’s done now,” he said. “I declined their offer.”


    Emery stared at him. “What does that mean?” she asked slowly. “That they won’t chase after us anymore? Just like that?” Emery didn’t know what else to say. Clearly, those people were hostile and then just like that…. they stopped?


    Logan nodded once. “That’s right.”


    Emery narrowed her eyes. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, watching him.


    She thought about his guards. His insistence on protection. The precautions. She had dismissed it as paranoia. He wasn’t a prime minister. He wasn’t a cartel boss. He didn’t even run for office. So why all this?


    Then it hit her.


    “What did you do,” she asked. “What’s your crime? Are you an arms dealer? A drug lord? Do you smuggle people? What are you?”


    Logan blinked at her. Then he chuckled. “You’ve been watching too much TV. I’m not wanted by any government.”


    Emery blinked slowly. “So you’re not wanted by any government… but what about people? Are you hunted by some terrorists or something?”


    Heughed at that and shook his head. “Look at how you’re staring at me. I promise you, my record is very… very clean.”


    “Your actions say otherwise<i>, </i>Mr. Hayes,” Emery said. “I might have been fooled by an ex for years, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”


    “Have you ever considered,” Logan said. “That maybe I’m just a king? Or a prince from some unknown country?”


    Emery frowned, her mouth parting slightly to respond–but the car stopped before she could say a word.


    The driver spoke up. “We’re here.”


    Emery looked outside. A private jet waited on the tarmac just a few steps away.


    Logan got out first<b>, </b>then opened her door. “As of this moment,” he said, “Nina is already on her way to our wedding and your family should be boarding the private jet very soon.”


    Emery stepped out without taking his hand. “Is that a threat?”


    Logan followed her. “I don’t threaten people. Especially not my wife.”


    She didn’t respond. Her legs carried her forward on their own.


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    At the foot of the jet’s staircase stood a tall woman with a name tag that read MAE. She gave a quick nod.


    “Miss Emery,” she said. “I’m Mae. I’ll be your flight attendant today. Please let me know if you need anything at all.”


    Emery nodded. She walked past Mae and climbed into the ne.


    Inside, the jet was sleek and quiet. The floor was dark wood. The walls were pale gray, matte, and clean. Leather seating lined both sides–cream–colored, soft. A table stretched between them with champagne already chilling in a bucket. At the far end was a private suite area, closed off by sliding doors.


    She stepped deeper. A small kitchte and minibar lined one wall. Across from it, a built–in sofa. Beyond that, through the doors, a full–sized bed tucked neatly into a corner, already made with fresh linens. Simple, functional, and expensive.


    She ran her hand over the leather headrest of one of the chairs. Then she looked toward the hallway behind her. Logan stepped inside and gave Mae a nod.


    “We’ll <i>take </i>off in ten minutes,” Mae said, closing the door behind them.


    Emery didn’t say anything.


    She took the seat by the window and buckled in.


    This was happening. All of it. And she hated the fact that she still doesn’t know what he is.


    The room wasrger than most apartments Emery had seen. One side was covered with floor–to–ceiling windows, filling the space with warm afternoon light.


    Thick stone walls rose to tall, arched ceilings, decorated with carvings that looked ancient and detailed. Tapestries hung along the back wall, and a softvender scent floated in the air. At the far end stood arge, unused firece, with silver–framed photos of strangers lined up on the mantel.


    The castle–Chateau de irvigne–looked more like a preserved museum than a wedding venue, Everything was polished, curated, and eerily quiet. The only sound came from her teacup clicking softly against the saucer as she set it down.


    They hadnded just that morning. After the jet touched down, Logan visibly rxed. The guards remained, but they weren’t hovering anymore.


    He checked in with a few staff, made sure Emery had what she needed, then left. No exnation. No itinerary. Just disappeared into the estate.


    12:20 <b>Thu</b>, <b>Sep </b>11


    Emery hadn’t seen him since.


    :


    Then came the knock, followed by a voice she knew instantly.


    “Emery!”


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    The doors swung open before Emery could reach them. Nina stood there, eyes wide, dragging a suitcase behind her. She dropped it the second she saw Emery and rushed forward.


    Emery braced herself just in time.


    Nina wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in tightly.


    “You’re really doing it,” Nina said. “You’re actually marrying the man your father chose for you.”


    Emery blinked, caught off guard. “What?”


    Nina pulled back. Her eyes were already tearing up. “If you want to run, Emery, say the word. I will drive us out of here. I don’t care if we have to hide in the Alps. You don’t have to do this. If you want money then I can just support you. My trust fund shoulf be enough for both of us.”


    “What are you talking about?” Emery asked.


    “You- you sacrificing yourself for your father’s sake.”


    Emery stared at her. “Have you met him?”


    Nina frowned. “No. Why?”


    “Then why are you assuming it’s some seventy–year–old with a cane?”


    Nina’s lips pressed into a thin line. “A few of our old friends heard about the engagement. Adam Bet told someone. He’s still in touch with those men from your father’s circle. The old money crowd.”


    Emery closed her eyes. She remembered that cursed party. The almost–engagement disaster. Her grandmother had tried to contain the fallout, but gossip had legs. People like Adam Bet never stayed quiet.


    Nina went on. “So I assumed–I mean, if it was someone normal, why keep it a secret?”


    Emery sighed. “I’m not marrying an old man.”


    “Then who?”


    “It doesn’t matter.”


    Nina crossed her arms. “You don’t need to lie to me.”


    Emery looked at her. “I’m not lying.”


    Nina didn’t respond right away. She just stared, searching Emery’s face for a crack.


    12:21 Thu, Sep <b>11 </b>


    There wasn’t one.


    :


    :


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    “Then…. who are you going to marry?” Nina asked. “Hold on… you’re not marrying Samuel… right!?”


    AD