After my encounter with Logan, I try as much as possible to avoid him. I’m grateful that he seems to feel the same way, as he’s usually out for work before I even wake up.
When I come down for breakfast, Kayla always tells me that he’s already left for the day.
Most nights, he returns home late. Samantha is still around, which makes me even angrier because he encouraged her to stay.
But who am I to complain? This is his house, after all.
I focus on keeping to myself and avoiding unnecessary confrontations, though I find ways to distract myself. Kayla tries to lighten the mood, but it’s clear that she’s walking on eggshells too.
There’s a part of me that dreads the moment we might cross paths again, yet I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.
I push those thoughts aside, reminding myself that it’s easier to keep my distance and maintain the balance we’ve created.
My heart plays tricks on me, as I can still feel his lips on mine after that dangerous kiss we shared. Every night, I stand by my window, watching when he comes back from work.
When I look closely, I notice he has dark bags under his eyes-he isn’t getting enough sleep, just like me. Since that night, I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep, and it’s been two exhausting weeks.
The sleepless nights start to take their toll. My mind races every time I close my eyes, replaying that kiss over and over again.
It’s as if my body is clinging to a moment that I know should never have happened, making it impossible to escape the emotions I’m trying so hard to suppress.
During the day, I do my best to stay busy, but everything feels heavy and out of place.
Even the smallest tasks require more effort than usual. When I notice that Logan is trying to look in the direction of my room, I quickly hide so he won’t catch a glimpse of me.
It’s been two weeks of torture, and I can’t seem to bridge the gap between what I feel and what he’s making me feel.
Every night is torture as I wake up drenched in sweat, dreaming of how he makes sweet love to me and brings me to climax multiple times.
My core is left throbbing with the effects of the intense encounters I’ve experienced with Logan in my dreams.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way, but the dreams feel so real, and the emotions they stir are impossible to dismiss.
The more I try to suppress these feelings, the stronger they become, leaving me trapped in a cycle of longing and guilt.
Today, the house is eerily quiet. I had just finished responding to emails and having conversations with my clients about managing their social media accounts.
Feeling restless, I decided to walk around the house. I realize I haven’t explored most parts of it, so I make my way down the hallway to the back of the house.
As I walk through the corridor, I hear sounds coming from a particular room.
Taken aback, I wonder who could be lurking around the house without my knowledge. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I slowly open the door.
Inside, I notice a young woman cleaning the room. The sound of the door startles her, and she looks up to see who has entered. I try to put her at ease, offering a bright smile and a wave.
A big smile breaks across her face, and I can tell it’s the most beautiful smile I’ve seen in this house.
“Hi, I’m Nadine. I live here,” I say, introducing myself.
“I’m Dora, the housekeeper. It’s good to finally meet the madam of the house,” she replies.
“How often do you come by, and how come I haven’t seen you before?” I ask, curious.
“Oh, my apologies. My husband was ill for some time, and I was advised to take a few months off to care for him. Mr. West was kind enough to cover the hospital bills,” she explains.
“I’m sorry to hear about your husband. I hope he’s well now,” I say, noting my concern.
“He’s perfectly well, ma’am. He received the best care, and I’m ever grateful to Mr. West.’
This is new-I haven’t heard anyone speak so fondly of Logan, with such love and admiration. It’s a contrast to what I’ve heard about him.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say as I walk away, still pondering her words.
As I wander through the far end of the house, I suddenly notice the door to Logan’s office is open. I pause, looking around, wondering if I should take a look inside.
“What exactly are you looking for?” a voice taunts me in my head, but my legs move on their own accord.
Gently, I place my hand on the doorknob, and to my surprise, it isn’t locked. I make my way inside.
His office is large, filled with equipment like photocopiers, scanners, and other essentials.
I look around and notice pictures of him and his family hanging on the walls.
He looks so happy in the photos, which seem to have been taken when he was younger. Lily, Laura, and Lucas are there too.
My heart tugs as I think about my own family. The strain in our relationships kept us from ever having pictures like this.
I move around the room and notice a stack of neatly arranged files. As I run my hand over them, I suddenly stop when I see a file with my name on it.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I pick it up. What I see makes the blood in my veins run cold.
I never expected that I would be in a position where I could be manipulated like this-and that I would fall for it. It is so overwhelming that I can’t move from the spot where I’m standing.
Tears well up in my eyes as I realize that everything involving Logan and me has been orchestrated by Logan and Nathalie.