His Nanny Mate - Season 3 Episode 75

Ella

Marina’s father’s words made me feel unexpectedly unsettled. I cocked my head, looking at him for a moment. Was that a threat, because I asked too many questions? Or a friendly warning out of concern?

“Pardon?” I asked, clenching my drink a little tighter in my hand. “Miss Morgan, I’m sure you understand what I mean,” Marina’s father said, his eyes fixed on mine. His voice was kind, but there was a knowing look in his eyes that unsettled me.

I gave him a reassuring smile, though I felt. anything but reassured. “I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I have things under control. There’s no need for you to worry about me.”

He continued to look at me for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was as though he could see right through me, understanding that I was lying.

Through my carefully constructed facade of a perfectly cool and calm young woman, there was a little girl screaming on the inside, begging to leave. And at that moment, I felt certain that he saw her. But all he did was nod slowly, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Very well, Ella,” he said, his voice gentle, “Take care of yourself.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone at the bar. I felt a sudden urge to escape the room, to find a place where I could breathe and gather my thoughts.

Slipping into a private hallway, I leaned against the wall, letting out a deep breath. My heart was racing, and my mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions.

“I think you handled that quite well,” Ema said, her voice soothing. “You’re stronger than you think, Ella. You’re handling everything well.”

I closed my eyes, leaning into the support and strength Ema lent me. “I don’t know, Ema. This world… it’s so different from anything I’ve known. I feel like I’m out of my depth.”

“You’re doing just fine,” she reassured me, her presence comforting. “You’re strong, Ella, and you have what it takes to get through this night. Like we said, it’s not all that different from your dad’s awful business parties.”

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I let out an involuntary, wry chuckle. “Yeah,” I replied. “Except people don’t typically have the threat of being murdered on their minds when they’re at my dad’s business parties.”

Despite my worries, though, Ema was right. I was strong, and I could handle this. I took another deep breath, feeling a little stronger, a little more in control.

“I need some fresh air,” I whispered to myself, making my way towards the balcony. As I stood on the balcony, the cool air enveloped me, feeling like a soothing balm against my heated skin. It was a gentle caress, filled with the fragrance of night-blooming flowers and a hint of the distant sea.

The crisp breeze rustled through the nearby trees, whispering secrets and creating a melody that seemed to harmonize with my restless soul. It had a purity to it, untouched by the chaos and pretense of the evening, and I took a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs and calm my anxious heart.

Below me, the city lights stretched out like a glittering sea, a myriad of colors dancing and reflecting off the buildings’ glass facades. Skyscrapers reached for the heavens, their peaks lost in the soft embrace of low-hanging clouds, while streetlights created glowing veins that pulsed with life through the city’s arteries.

The distant hum of traffic melded with the occasional laughter and music drifting from nearby homes, creating a symphony of urban life that was both exhilarating and soothing.

I leaned against the railing, my eyes wandering over the breathtaking view. The lights shimmered and shifted, creating patterns that told a story of life, love, ambition, and dreams. Each flicker seemed to represent a heartbeat, a moment captured in time, a connection to something greater. I felt a sense of unity with the city, a feeling that I was part of something vast and complex, yet intimately personal.

The horizon held a soft glow, where the city’s illumination met the dark embrace of the night. Stars peeked through the veil of lights, twinkling like distant dreams, and the moon hung low, casting a silvery reflection that seemed to dance on the rooftops.

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the cool air on my face, listening to the sounds of the city, and allowing the sensations to wash over me. For a moment, if I really focused, I could imagine that I was back home in our penthouse. But only for a moment.

Because just then, I heard footsteps, and my reverie was broken. I turned to see Logan approaching. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. I looked over at him, my eyes meeting his.

“My parents are bound to find out about our ‘relationship’ eventually,” I admitted, my voice tinged with worry. “I wonder if they’ll disown me for being with a Mafia guy. Even if it is all fake.”

Logan sighed. “I know you’re worried,” he said. “But I promise I’ll try not to let your parents know about the Mafia ties, at least until our cooperation ends. Or until you fall in love with me.”

I frowned, punching Logan in the shoulder. He chuckled and leaned on the railing next to me.

“Besides,” he continued, “if they do find out someday for whatever reason, I’ll make them like me so much they’ll hardly even notice the Mafia part.”

I had to laugh. “You’re full of yourself, Logan Barrett.”

Logan grinned. “I know. It’s one of my better traits.” Logan’s words offered me a semblance of reassurance. But I still wasn’t so sure, and I let my doubts show.

“My father hates illegal dealings, Logan,” I let out along with a sigh. “He has built his reputation on integrity and honesty. I can’t help but wonder if this is even all worth it. He probably won’t want to work with you if he finds out.”

“Well, if that happens, I’ll just have to deal with it, won’t I?” Logan asked, looking out over the city. “And, no, before you ask: not in a ‘sleeping with the fishes’ sort of way. I’m aware of the consequences of my upbringing and business dealings. I’ll be willing to face those consequences.”

Logan’s response took me by surprise. It was shockingly cool and mature, much unlike some of the other things that I had heard him utter before.

I looked over at Logan, and found that my eyes were drawn to the outline of his stitches through his shirt. He was leaning on the railing, looking out over the city, his sharp jawline reflecting the city lights. He had left his jacket somewhere inside, and now wore only his white button-down shirt, his sleeves rolled up slightly.

I hated to admit it, but… He was handsome. Incredibly handsome. Despite my concerns, I couldn’t help but feel attracted to him in that moment. There was something about his strength, his confidence, his scars that drew me to him.

He looked up at me, and there was a slight smile playing on his lips. “What is it, princess?” he asked, studying my face. “Cat got your tongue?”