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He grins. “It’s not about what I want, Kitten.”

“You’re so good to me,” I say. “I want to make you happy.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he says, grinning.

I look down, smiling and rubbing at a small water spot on the base of my wine glass.

“You haven’t tried the wine,” he says.

I realize how rude I must look when I imagine the price of the wine. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, picking it up. “I just got caught up.”

He just bites his lip, watching as I tilt the glass back and let the smooth red wash over my lips. It’s fruity, light, and airy with a slightly bitter aftertaste. It’s more complex than the cheap wines I’m used to, but I raise my eyebrows appreciatively. “This is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he says. “Now. It’s your turn. You were about to tell me something.”

“Right,” I say, swallowing a little too big of a sip to buy myself time. “I was going to tell you I saw someone. I was leaving work and he was…” I trail off at the look on Logan’s face. All the compassion and kindness has faded and there’s only iron in his features. His eyes are narrowed and as piercing as daggers. I suddenly regret my decision to tell him. He’s not just going to confront Ronnie, he’s going to kill him.

“And?” he asks, voice sharp.

“And it was Ronnie. My mom’s boyfriend.” My voice sounds as quiet as a whisper and I practically cringe while I wait for him to process what I’ve said.

“What did he want? Did he touch you? If he fucking-”

“No. Logan,” I say, trying to get him to lower his voice because people are starting to look at us. “He didn’t touch me. I mean, he was reaching for me, but I screamed and these guys came out. God. This sounds way worse than it was.”

Logan’s jaw flexes. “I warned him. I fucking warned him.”

“Please, Logan. I didn’t want to tell you because I was worried you would do something stupid.” I wince at my choice of words.

Logan’s eyes burn into me. “Stupid? You think it’s stupid to protect you?”

“No. That’s not what I meant.”

His brings his fist down on the table, making our silverware clatter. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to make the message loud and fucking clear to this asshole. You’re mine. He’s going to learn why he should stay away.”

I lower my eyes. There’s no arguing with Logan. The force of his will alone is mind-numbing. When he puts his foot down, it might as well be etched in steel. I just can’t stand the idea of him doing something crazy. What if he actually kills Ronnie? I realize with a sinking dread that I’m going to have to warn Ronnie. I may hate him and what he has done to my mom and now to me, but I don’t want to see him killed. More than that, I don’t want to see Logan ruin his life and career over this by getting sent to prison.19LoganRonnie Burkhart. Forty-eight, unemployed, former high school football star. All around deadbeat with a history of domestic abuse, even before he started seeing Emmaline’s mom. My personal investigator sent the info over last night via email. I called him as soon as I dropped Emmaline off.

The thought of Ronnie trying something with her makes me clench my fists and want to hit something. I don’t know what he’s after, whether he’s a pervert or he’s trying to extort money out of her. Whatever it is, it’s going to fucking end, fast. As soon as I find him, he’s going to get a real hard lesson.

For now, I have to wait. I hired two additional personal investigators to start a manhunt for him. They already checked the trailer and didn’t find him. He’s probably passed out drunk in a gutter somewhere, but they will find him. All I can do is move through my Friday as normally as possible. I already tried calling Emmaline to get her to spend the day in my office where I could keep an eye on her, but she refused. She had a meeting with a potential investor for her company, and I know how important that is to her at this stage in her business.

I hired an off-duty cop to tail her today and keep an eye out, so she should be safe, but I would rather be there myself. Just the thought of anything happening to her… Fuck. I don’t know what I would do. Whatever it was, it would probably end with me in prison for a very long time.

When I get to my floor, I’m greeted by Lacey, who’s flanked by Deara, my Chief Financial Officer. I frown at the two of them. “What’s going on?”

Lacey clears her throat nervously. “Deara wants me to show you this email. You were out of the office last night so I passed it on to her first. I hope that’s okay. It just seemed really… well... “

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