“I’m a ruthless billionaire, and I have enemies,” he says, with a cold voice devoid of any regret. “Anyone associated with me is in danger. That’s why I can’t risk losing you, my dear wife.”
His words leave me dazed, struggling to process. As he walks out the door, my mind races back to the mysterious call that woke me earlier this morning. It made me question my safety.
A sudden urge to check my phone hits. I rush to my room, my heart pounding. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, my hands shake as I unlock it. I scroll through my call log, searching for the 4 a. m. caller. But it’s a private number.
My heart tightens in my chest as I think about what I have gotten myself into getting involved with a man like Logan. The thought sends a chill down my spine.
It feels so difficult to breathe as questions plague my mind. Who was behind the call? And what do they want from me? I feel like I’m trapped in a dangerous game without knowing the rules.
I try to dismiss the feeling, convincing myself it’s my imagination. But Logan’s words echo relentlessly: “Anyone associated with me is in danger.”
I shake my head, trying to regain focus. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s time to return to work.
As a social media manager, I help companies craft their online presence. I have a virtual meeting with a new client today. I set up my equipment, boot up my computer, and join the call.
The client explains their needs, and I offer guidance, helping them find the best solution. After some negotiation, we struck a deal, adding another prestigious name to my client list.
Many of my clients are billionaires, and I’m lucky to hold shares in their companies. I’ve done my homework, protecting my interests with legal contracts.
After wrapping up work tasks and firing off some emails, I head downstairs for lunch. Kayla had kindly prepared a meal before she left for the day.
Just as I’m about to take a bite, my phone rings, sending a jolt through me. I dash back to my room, grabbing the phone from my desk, only to see the call has disconnected.
The call log shows another unknown number. Fear crawls up my spine. Is someone watching me? But as I look around my surroundings, when I see nothing out of place it calms my racing heart, even if it’s for a minute.
Still, I couldn’t shake Logan’s ominous words, which made me ask questions. Am I in danger? And if so, what kind?
The phone rings again, snapping me out of my thoughts. I hesitate for a second before swiping to answer, my hand trembling.
But when I hear the familiar voice I sigh in relief “Sydney!” I exclaim, her name tumbling out in surprise and excitement. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you!”
Sydney and I have only known each other for six months, but she’s been a rock in my life. We met during her training at my office, and after my marriage fell apart, she returned to Canada. I’ve missed her terribly.
“Sydney, it’s so good to hear from you! How’s life in Canada?”
She laughs softly. “Life’s good. I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since I left. How have you been holding up?”
Then I remember the mysterious call so I ask, “Did you call me earlier today?”
She sighs apologetically. “Oh, Nadine, I’m so sorry! I forgot about the time difference. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I sigh, feeling a bit embarrassed. “It’s okay, Sydney. I was just spooked because the number didn’t show on my caller ID.”
She pauses, puzzled. “That’s strange. I didn’t realize my phone was on private mode.”
I laugh lightly, feeling silly. “Yeah, I thought I was in some kind of trouble!”
Her laughter echoes through the phone. “Oh, Nadine, I’m so glad we caught up. It’s good to hear your voice.”
I smile. “Same here, Sydney. It feels great reconnecting.”
“How’s work been?” she asks, with curiosity, carefully avoiding the mention of Jake.
I appreciate her tact and respond, “Work’s been great since I started working from home. And yes, you can ask about Jake.”
But before I can continue, Logan’s voice cuts through the room, startling me. “Do you still love him?” he asks, his eyes drilling into me with a fierce intensity.
Heat rises to my cheeks as I face him, my conversation with Sydney all but forgotten. “Logan, what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to stay calm.
“Sydney, I need to go. I’ll call you back soon,” I say hurriedly, wanting to end the call before things spiral.
Logan’s anger boils over. “Tell her you want to talk to your husband, Nadine!” he shouts, his voice reverberating through the room.
Sydney’s concern comes through the line. “Nadine, are you married? Are you in trouble?”
I hang up abruptly, my pulse racing. I glare at Logan. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snap, fury bubbling up inside me.
Logan’s expression shifts from anger to something else, something raw and vulnerable. “Do you still love him?” he repeats, his voice now pleading.
I take a breath, trying to keep steady. “What are you talking about, Logan? Who do you mean?”
But I already know it’s Jake.
“Does it even matter?” I ask, frustration flaring as I step closer to him. “And why now? Why are you asking me these things?”
As I approach, the sharp scent of alcohol hits me. My eyes widened. “You’re drunk,” I state in disbelief. “At 3 pm?”
I fan the air, the pungent smell reeking in my room. Logan, usually composed and in control, stands before me, with his glassy eyes and sluggish movements. Despite my anger, my heart tugged in my chest in sympathy for him.
“Logan, what’s going on?” I ask, with a soft voice. “And why are you back so early?”
He steps closer, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. Then, in a tender motion, he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch sends a shiver down my spine, leaving me breathless.
“Logan, you’re scaring me,” I whisper, in a trembling voice.
He shakes his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I can’t lose you, Nadine.”
He stumbles forward, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, holding me tight. “I’m so sorry.”
I stand there, holding him, feeling his warmth. But my mind is spinning. What has happened to him? And what does he mean by “I can’t lose you?”