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“Why do you feel so frightened? I haven’t given the impression of being here to do any of those things you accuse me of.” I try to read the answer in her eyes, but she composes herself before answering me.
“What do you want from her in particular?” She tries to analyze my moves. Smart girl, she is going to answer only if I give something up in return. My respect grows for her determination and useful life skill, as I make my decision to disclose my intentions.
“I want to marry your sister,” I admit, with no doubt in my resolve to make Cassandra my wife.
Aisha seems to be speechless and shocked into silence, unable to grasp the words spilling from my lips. The raised eyebrows and parted lips look ridiculous. Then she starts to laugh. Hard and loud, she cackles, with tears in her eyes.
She is very skeptical. “Wait before jumping into the rabbit hole. You really don’t know my sister if you think she will go for it.”
And then she completely turns my world upside down.
“Her boys died in a car accident two years ago.” My eyes grow wide, and then it makes some sense why she might feel threatened.
“Why I would even consider taking them away from her?” I realize that such fears are not born out of the blue.
“Cassandra developed a panic attack disorder,” Aisha stresses to me. “She can’t take the thought of losing her babies again. It might be causing the very uncertain and difficult pregnancy to occur.”
“I am not the monster to separate my children from their mother. Instead, I’m ready to put my resources and effort to work to help her,” I reassure Aisha. “If you give me the keys, I could talk to Cassandra about it.”
I beam at her, and she giggles, but no matter how convincing I am, she only agrees to let me in if I help with the flat furniture. Blondie, the blue-eyed interrogator, will monitor us. Great, this will be fun. Irritated that Aisha is not falling in line, I agree to do as she says.
Chapter 11
Fighting Fire with Fire
~Cassandra~
The few things I bought from the mall weigh probably up to five kilos, and I decide not to cart them upstairs by myself. It’s time to think about those two peanuts. I am not willing to put an unnecessary strain on them. Breathless, I dial Aisha. Moments later, she comes running, and we carry everything upstairs to my flat.
Once I come into the room, Logan’s ripped, half-naked physique bent over the flat packs shocks me into silence. I stand, open-mouthed, and my eyebrows touch my hairline. What the hell is he doing here?
As if sensing my stare on him, he turns around, locking his green eyes on me. His wild emeralds have an impish glint as he gives me his dimpled smile by way of hello, confusing my body. Incapable of fending off this male’s influence, my instincts are urging me to pounce him.
No, what the hell with the hormonal shit? I’d better take that energy and turn it in a vicious fury that I’ll unleash on his soon-to-be-sorry ass!
Something in my expression alarms him to put away the things he was tinkering with.
This is my territory, buddy, and my rules, and I will be torturing your masculine ass this time. The tables just turned, and life presented me with the quid pro quo situation. Realizing that tidbit, I smile, with every intention for him to taste his own medicine.
Unrelenting, I stare at him as he rises from where he was working, and I notice his sweaty forehead. Logan tries to collect himself to speak, and his noticeably moving throat lets me know he feels a tad nervous. Smart man assesses me, a little too amused for my taste.
Let’s make him squirm, shall we?
I rub my cute belly. “Your kids are ok. Actually, we are a bit hungry. They are not even twenty-one yet, so you can leave and wait until they grace your doorsteps to get to know you after growing into amazing people. And on the way to your luxurious kingdom, be a good boy, and close the door behind you. I want
to have some dignity while I weep at losing your amazing, gorgeous dick from my tight apartment space,” I tell him, my tone cynical, making sure that his majestic pride gets the kick.
He flinches and his eyes twitch in response to my speech. Logan takes in a lungful of air, and his posture shifts. Instead of a proud, arrogant man, I see a very regretful and apologetic male.
“I do deserve that.” The remorse is written all over his face and he moves a step closer towards me. I put my hands up to stop him from approaching me. I’m not done talking.
“Well, I got the message, no worries. I will survive without your meaningless apologies. Let’s move on with our lives by ignoring each other’s presence, shall we? I even agree to forget the fact that you are the unwilling father of my unborn babies. It’s very straightforward, actually, as it takes a lot of effort to remember you at all.” I need to hurt him, see pain on his face. He needs to know the taste of my anger.
Logan’s breathing increases and his chest moves fast with every inhale. His eyes dilate, and his hands clench into tight fists. I don’t know what possessed me, but I push him with every intention to break his controlled façade too.
“I promise to tell the little Knights that they are a consequence of one-meaningless-night stand, with a man who loves more adventurous existence than to carry on the human legacy of raising his young ones. That each one of them looks like me: proud, strong, resilient, and respectful.”
I burst into tears as I watch the fight leave the father of my children. Moments later, I am in his arms, and my fists beat furiously against his chest. The tears unleash all churning emotions, falling down my chin like a waterfall of disappointment. He gently sets me on the kitchen island and cups my face. Warm lips descend on mine, soothing my aching heart.
