Logan didn’t actually disturb them. Which somehow made her uneasy.
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Until now, Emery could not help but think about the way he stared at her. Why didn’t he go inside? she thought inwardly. Didn’t he like the dress<b>? </b>
Emery sipped her tea slowly, her eyes on the garden below. The staff were already working–stringing lights between the trees, cing rows of white chairs, and securing the floral arch at the altar. Roses, peonies, and hanging vines framed the view, and soft music yed from somewhere further down thewn.
A garden wedding. In France. In three days.
She still couldn’t believe it. It looked like something out of a magazine. And somehow, she was the bride.
Her lips curved slightly.
Then she froze.
A hand wrapped around her waist from behind, warm and steady. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
Logan.
“You should go inside,<i>” </i>he said. “It’s cold.”
He didn’t let go.
She didn’t move either. “When are you meeting your rtives?”
“Everyone’s already downstairs. Waiting in the dining hall.”
Emery lifted an eyebrow and slowly turned her head to look at him.
“You mean… everyone?” she asked. “Even my family?”
Logan nodded once.
Emery stared at him. “Are your rtives like you?<b>” </b>
He tilted his head. “Like me?”
“I mean it,” she said. “Should I be nervous?”
“They don’t bite,” he said. “At least… not as much as I do.”
Emery blinked. Her eyes widened slightly, and she looked away.
Logan chuckled in response then he stepped back and offered her his hand.
<b>12:21 </b><b>Thu</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>11 </b>
:
“Let’s go,” he said. “You’re going to meet everyone. No more hiding.”
“I wasn’t,” she nced at his hand, then took it.
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Together, they walked back inside. Logan didn’t let go as they descended the grand staircase. The faint murmur of conversation grew louder with each step.
The dining hall came into view.
It was already full. Long tables stretched across the room, set with polished silverware and crystal sses. The chandeliers overhead glowed softly. Laughter and chatter bounced off the walls.
Her grandmother sat near the center, speaking to a woman Emery didn’t recognize. Adam Bet was further down, seated but stiff. His wife Deana–Emery’s stepmother–was already sipping from a wine ss.
And then there were the others. People Emery didn’t know.
Logan didn’t slow down.
He held her hand firmly and led her straight inside.
“This must be Emery…” a man’s voice echoed.
A tall man stepped forward, maybete thirties. He had short dark brown hair and sharp features. His eyes were a piercing gray. He wore a fitted suit and carried himself like someone used to being watched.
“Sebastian Ward,” he said, taking Emery’s hand and kissing the back of it with a slight bow. “A pleasure.”
Behind him stood six more strangers. Three men and three women–each of them striking.
The women were tall, each with a model–like figure. One had sleek ck hair tied in a low twist–Lucille Moreau. She wore a deep emerald dress and nodded politely.
The second, Alina Cross, had a curtain of auburn curls and sharp cheekbones. She gave Emery a smile and a
bow.
The third, I Vale, had ash–blonde hair and a soft grace to her movements. She wore all white and kissed Emery’s hand without hesitation.
Then the men.
Liam North–broad–shouldered, sandy hair, with a crooked grin. Dressed in dark navy, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion campaign. He took Emery’s hand, bowed slightly, and kissed it.
Caius Reed–taller than the rest, with skin like polished bronze and eyes that didn’t blink much. He looked more like a bodyguard than a guest, but the expensive cut of his suit said otherwise.
And thest–Milo Stroud. He had pale eyes, near–white hair, and an easy smirk that didn’t quite reach his
<b>eyes</b><b>. </b>
Each one of them kissed Emery’s hand.
<b>12:21 </b>Thu, Sep 11
Each one bowed.
MY
Emery nced at Logan, who showed no reaction. Not even when Milo winked at her.
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“We all grew up together,” Sebastian said. “Same orphanage. Different ces. But we stayed connected. It’s rare to have us all in the same ce these days. Logan asked. We came.”
Emery nodded slowly. “Right. That makes sense.”
It didn’t. Not entirely.
The six of them looked like they had stepped out of a catalog. Not a hair out of ce. Not a single thread cheap. And the way they moved–smooth, coordinated, aware of everything around them–was not how most people who grew up in orphanages carried themselves.
Still, Emery smiled politely and let herself be led to her seat.
“So, you grew up in an orphanage?” the first one who obviously talked was Adam. He looked at Logan and then towards the people he considers close to him. “Where, if I might ask?”
Logan’s eyes flicked briefly to Adam before answering. “London. A private orphanage near South Kensington.”
The room quieted for a second. It wasn’t a strange answer, but it seemed too clean. Too polished.
Before anyone could say more, Mary, Emery’s grandmother, spoke up.
“Let’s not turn this into an interrogation, Adam. We’re here to enjoy dinner, not audit birth records.”
Adam said nothing but picked up his wine ss again.
Lucille stood from her seat, her ss raised. “To Emery and Logan. May this union be stronger than blood andst longer than tradition.”
The rest followed. sses clinked. Smiles forced.
Dinner passed in an uneasy rhythm. The conversation drifted, but something in the air refused to settle. When it ended, Emery stood and followed her grandmother back toward the guest quarters.
Inside the sitting room, Mary closed the door and motioned for Emery to sit.
“Did you know,” Mary asked. “That Logan Hayes has no family?”
Emery nodded. “I saw it in his file. No living rtives.”
“Good” Mary said. Then she paused.
Emery narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Mary took a breath. There’s something about this family–Logan and the people around him. I’m sure you already know this because of James. He had looked into this matter but 1-1 asked a contact to look deeper. I
12:21 Thu<b>, </b>Sep <b>11 </b>
didn’t like what I found.”
Emery leaned forward. “Tell me.”
:
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Mary’s tone didn’t change. “Logan Hayes is known in the ck market. Not by that name, of course. But his activity is all over. He controls deals from the shadows. Some say he’s ruthless.”
Emery didn’t react.
“I still don’t understand how you got entangled with someone like him,” Mary added. “But if you want out—if he’s threatening you–I can arrange protection. A way out. Quietly.”
“I’m fine.” Emery said. “You don’t need to do that.”
Mary looked at her. “Is he coercing you? This whole thing–sweeping you off to Europe, paying for the best, surrounding you with his people, and cutting you off from everyone–it’s what abusers do. They make it all look like a fairytale. Lavish gifts. Istion. Controlling who you see.”
Emery stood. “He’s not doing that.” What is her grandmother talking about?
“Then tell me the truth,” Mary said. “Are you happy? Or are you just surviving?<b>” </b>
Emery looked at the floor. Then she met her grandmother’s eyes. “I’m not being controlled. He doesn’t make my decisions. I can assure you that.”
Mary didn’t back down. “But he’s dangerous. That kind of man doesn’t just love. He owns.”
Emery didn’t argue. She just walked to the door.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said. “But I’m exactly where I want to be.”
“Emery, will you listen to yourself!?” Mary suddenly hissed. Hearing her grandmother like this stopped Emery in her tracks.
“Grandma…”
“That man is dangerous!” Mary took a step closer, her voice low but sharp. “Once you’re in this world–this world of criminals and backdoor dealings–it’s almost impossible to get out. You know that, Emery. And now you’re bringing a child into it? What are you thinking?”
Emery stood still, her hand resting on the doorknob.
“You’re smart,” Mary continued. “You’ve always been smart. So what is this? Is it Samuel? Are you so determined to run from him that you’re rushing into something even worse?”
Emery turned around. “Logan isn’t like that. He’s not Samuel And you don’t have to worry about me.”
Mary looked unconvinced “He’s a powerful man with no roots No ties. That makes him dangerous.”
Emery sighed She didn’t want to exin everything, not now, but the truth hovered somewhere in her chest.
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At least with Logan, there were no pretenses. He told her the rules. He showed her the contract. He didn’t pretend this was something it wasn’t. Perhaps there were lies and secrets about his past but why does that concern her? This isn’t about his past. It was about their child.
“This marriage benefits both of us,” Emery said. “It’s not a trap. It’s a choice.”
Mary stared at her.
“So please,” Emery added. “Calm down.”
She stepped closer, pressed a kiss to her grandmother’s cheek, and turned back to the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow and I hope this would be thest time that you tell me about… him. I would really appreciate a peaceful pregnancy.”
Then she left the room, closing the door gently behind her.
Seeing her gone, Mary frowned. She then turned towards the balcony, but was surprised to see someone standing there. She froze, her eyes widening.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bet,” a voice reached her ears. “I believe it is time that we talk about… your granddaughter’s marriage. Don’t you agree?”
AD