AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Charlie.
Logan breathed a sigh of relief. His manager.
He leaned on the counter top, his knuckles cracking with the flex of relief.
One good thing today. He grabbed the water he’d set down and set a second envelope spinning.
He curled the card into his fist and ripped it in half. He wasn’t going to let her get to him again today. He’d already lost Izzy, he wasn’t going to fuck up the entire night by reading whatever psycho love note she’d sent him.
But as half of the note fluttered to the marble counter, he saw a reference to Izzy.
He quickly pulled the envelope open and pushed the two halves together.
You made the correct choice. She was never good enough for you. She doesn’t love you the way I do. She never could.
I did like walking around her place though. Words are power. We know that don’t we, love? Her world is full of words, new and old. So many pretty books and pictures. So fragile.
I’m glad you didn’t make me show you how fragile.
Love,
Me
The room dissolved into a red haze. Before the haze lifted, his hands were full of ribbons of paper.
No.
There was no way.
He swept them all into his hands and stalked to the trash. Just before he dumped them in, he stopped.
What if it was more than a scare tactic? What if Aimee went too far?
He opened a drawer below his liquor cabinet and dropped them in there. There was no way he could ignore this. Not when it came to Izzy.
He set the codes for the house to lock it down. There would be no free-flowing access. Not now, not ever.
He used his palm print for verification and got into the SUV. “Sorry. Took a little longer than I thought.”
“I’ve been ordered to get you down there, sir. You go on in thirty.”
Logan nodded and looked out the window. “I’m ready.”
Twenty-Four
“Bella, you’re going to have to come out eventually,” Nic said from outside her apartment door.
“Nope. I’m moving the computers up here. I never have to leave.” Bella sat cross-legged on her stripped bed. She’d pulled the sheets and mattress cover off in a rage and cleaned every corner. Her room smelled like a damn orchard. No trace of sandalwood and vanilla.
If she could have used bleach on her skin, she would have. Not that it mattered. There were marks all over her body where his beard had left little crosshatch abrasions. Every time she moved she was reminded how many times and where he’d touched her.
She pulled her iPad onto her lap. She had over fifteen different pages open and she’d binged on every news article that had ever mentioned Logan and Aimee Collen. Now that the shock had worn off, she recognized the woman.
Aimee Collen, only daughter of Henry Collen and Elizabeth Stanton-Collen. Manhattan royalty for the Collen Hotels and Stanton Spas. Their family fortune made billionaires look like a poor, bastard cousin.
Aimee and Logan had been a hot item a few years ago, and now were off and on according to the tabloids. Every article or blog post or freaking social media regurgitation mentioned Rock royalty and hotel heiress were a match made in heaven. They’d gone on a tear through every one of the five star hotels in the Collen repertoire. Wild, lavish parties and a social media trail of pictures and video that rivaled a Kardashian.
It made her stomach hurt to even think about them, let alone look at them.
