His Nanny Mate - Season 3 Episode 80

Ella

The sun’s late afternoon light spilled into my office, casting long golden fingers over the documents I had meticulously drafted the previous night and spent all morning working on. I sipped on a cup of coffee, its bitter tang juxtaposed against the heavy sweetness of my lingering doubt.

Instead of spending the day working on my case with Logan, which I should have been doing, I spent it writing up this contract. Every word, every line, every clause had to be absolutely perfect. I had to protect myself, and this was the best way that I knew how.

But in reality, what was I really doing? Could a simple contract-a piece of paper-really guarantee my safety in a world so deeply entrenched in intrigue and power plays?

Of course, Logan was late. He was supposed to meet me at my office an hour ago, but he never showed. I figured that it would be just like him, to make this promise and then ghost me without signing the contract.

Just as I was engrossing myself in a particularly tricky clause, my phone buzzed. I almost jumped, spilling a few drops of coffee onto the corner of my desk. Anxiously wiping it away, I answered. “Hello?”

“It’s Logan.”

His voice was terse, the backdrop noisy. I could hear the echo of shouted orders, a revving engine, and something that sounded like metal clanging on metal. Was he in a metal shop or something?

“Logan, I have the contract ready,” I said, choosing to ignore these strange sounds. “We agreed on this. When can you come over to sign it?”

There was a momentary pause. “Look, I know I promised I’d be there already, and I’m sorry. But I’m dealing with some… matters right now. But I’ve sent a car for you, and I called to check since it should be there by now. Come to the mansion.”

I hesitated, my mind instantly flashing back to Sarah’s chilling words from yesterday. The thought of once more walking into what might be a lion’s den made my heart race.

“No,” I finally said, trying to muster as much courage as I could. “I won’t fall for any traps, Logan. We’ll sign this in a neutral place.”

“A trap?” He sounded genuinely surprised, his voice rising. “Ella, you think I’m trapping you? You don’t need to come, but the car is there anyway. If you change your mind, get in and my driver will take you here. I promise I’m not the boogeyman, or whatever it is that you think I am.”

My heart was pounding as we hung up the phone. Was I really going to do this? Was I going to trust him? The papers on my desk seemed to mock me, the inked contract a stark reminder of the games and the power plays that were part and parcel of this world I had become involved with.

The decision felt as if it took a lifetime, but finally, determination won over fear. This contract needed to be signed as soon as possible.

Grabbing my purse, I hurried out of my apartment, the door clicking shut behind me. As I approached the car, the driver looked up and gave a curt nod. “Miss Morgan?”

“Yes,” I managed to say, my voice unsteady. He opened the door for me, and I slid into the plush back seat, my heart in my throat.

The journey to Logan’s mansion seemed both too long and too short, all at the same time. My mind was a whirlwind of questions and uncertainties, each mile that passed adding to the growing apprehension.

When we finally arrived, I found myself almost frozen in my seat, my body refusing to comply with my brain’s command to move. The driver had to clear his throat to prompt me.

“Miss Morgan? We’re here.”

I stumbled out of the car, my legs feeling weak. The grandeur of Logan’s mansion never failed to take my breath away, but today, it felt different. It felt like I was stepping into a lion’s den, voluntarily. “Logan’s in the basement,” the driver informed me as he closed the door.

“The basement?” I echoed, both surprised and concerned. “Yes, Miss. Just follow the stairs down.”

I nodded and made my way into the mansion, my footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness. It was unusually quiet, the normal hustle and bustle of the servants missing. “This is stupid, Ella,” I thought to myself, chewing my lip. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

My wolf, who was finally speaking to me again, only perked up as a familiar voice came into earshot.

“Careful, Brian! Lift it gently!”

Logan’s voice was followed by what sounded like a clatter of metal and a muttered curse coming from the basement. I quickened my pace, my curiosity piqued, and peered down into the darkness. There was a set of wooden stairs leading down, and I could see shadows moving around. They appeared to be banging on something. I heard grunting, and then the two shadows seemed to be dragging something heavy across the floor.

“Bodies?” I thought to myself, swallowing. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ella,” my wolf’s voice responded. “Do bodies sound metallic when struck?”

“You have a point.”

I began to head down the stairs, although tentatively and fully prepared to turn and run if need be. But when I reached the bottom step, what I saw stopped me in my tracks and took me completely by surprise, even more than bodies.

Logan was there, his sleeves rolled up, his hands and face smudged with dirt and grease, working alongside one of the servants. It appeared as though they were… trying to fix a broken furnace.

“Logan?” I called out, unable to hide the shock in my voice. He looked up, surprise evident in his eyes, and then a smile broke through. “Ella! You came after all.”

I could only nod, still stunned by the sight in front of me. “What are you doing?” I finally managed to ask, taking a step closer.

Logan wiped his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of dirt. “Fixing the furnace. It broke down this morning. This is the infamous ‘trap’ you were so afraid of.”

It was, indeed, not a trap at all. Rather, it was nothing more than a rusty furnace and two men who were covered in grease and dirt.

Logan, no longer wearing his usual suit and tie, now wore a dirty white t-shirt and jeans. The sleeves of his shirt clung to his sweaty biceps. His dark hair clung to his forehead in certain places, and he had a slight scruff of beard growing on his face from a lack of shaving that morning.

I hated to admit it, but he looked… hot. I had to quickly look away to hide the redness that was growing in my cheeks.

But despite that, I was still utterly taken aback to see Logan, the incredibly wealthy son of a Mafia boss, actually getting his hands dirty working on equipment in the basement. Maybe that was why my next words, which were completely rude and uncalled for, spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“A broken furnace?” I asked, looking up at Logan with wide eyes. “Isn’t this a servant’s job?”