His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story
Chatper 317

Chatper 317

Chapter 317 Fond Memories

Ella

As I processed Logan’s sudden invitation for drinks, an unfamiliar warmth spread across my cheeks. Iwas caught off guard by the sudden sense of attraction that bubbled up within me.

The frivolous, detached mobster I had become accustomed to seemed to have been suddenly replacedby a more thoughtful, almost vulnerable man. And despite my inner reservations, I found myselfintrigued by this newfound side of him.

“Sure, Logan. Drinks it is.” My voice held an edge of playful challenge, hinting at the maze of emotionscoursing within me.

He shot me a half-smile, seemingly satisfied with my answer. As we walked toward the exit of thecourthouse, I pondered the unexpected shift in our dynamic. But just as we were about to step out, afamiliar voice called out, “Mr. Barrett!”

We both turned to see Miss Smith, the woman with the heart-wrenching testimony from earlier, runningtowards us with her young son in tow. I froze, my mind immediately thinking of the tense encounter wehad in the bathroom. Breathless, Miss Smith stopped before us, her gaze locked onto Logan.

“Thank you,” she began, her voice heavy with emotion. “For everything… and especially for the check.”

I blinked in surprise, glancing from her to Logan, seeking clarification. “What check?”

Miss Smith’s grateful eyes met mine. “After our chat in the restroom, Mr. Logan pulled me aside andhanded me a check, covering my son’s medical bills. He asked me to keep it a secret until the sessionended. I… I don’t even have the words to express my gratitude.”

My gaze shifted to Logan, whose face now bore an uncharacteristic blush. He cleared his throat, tryingto maintain his usual cool demeanor. “I just wanted to help. And if you ever need assistance in thefuture, don’t hesitate to call.”

The moment was touching, to say the least. Miss Smith, teary-eyed, leaned in to give Logan a tightembrace. When they were finished, she looked down at her son. “Go ahead, honey. Tell the nice manwhat you told me.”

Her son, wringing his hands bashfully, cleared his throat. “Um…. Thank you, Mister. You’re my hero.”

Logan’s face turned an unexpectedly deep shade of red. Without a word, he crouched down and pulledthe little boy into a tight hug. I felt tears beginning to prick at the backs of my eyes, and quickly lookedaway, biting my lip.

Miss Smith turned to me, her gaze softened. “I owe you an apology, Ella,” she said, wrapping her armsaround me. I let her hug me, touched by the warmth of her embrace.

She lowered her voice then so that only I could hear. “I was quick to judge, but seeing you in actiontoday, I believe you’ll achieve great things in the legal world. Keep it up.”

Feeling a rush of emotions, I simply nodded, unable to form coherent words.

As Miss Smith and her son departed, I turned to Logan, my eyes wide with a mix of surprise andadmiration. “That was incredibly generous of you, Logan.”

He waved it off with a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s just say I had a change of heart. And yes, you can patyourself on the back for it.”

Raising an eyebrow, I prodded, “What do you mean?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck, clearly hesitant. “I… may have used my wolf hearing toeavesdrop on your conversation with Miss Smith in the restroom.”

I gaped at him, indignation bubbling up. “You did what?!”

He chuckled, holding up his hands in defense. “Look, I know it wasn’t right, but hearing you both-especially your genuine concern for her- made me reassess some things.”

I punched his arm playfully, though there was a hint of seriousness in my tone. “You better noteavesdrop on me again.” He winced, rubbing the spot where I’d hit him, but his eyes twinkled withmischief. “No promises.”

We both shared a chuckle before I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “I must admit, you’vesubverted many expectations today, Logan.”

His smirk grew, that familiar arrogance returning. “Maybe I’m full of surprises.”

My heart raced, a mix of exasperation and admiration for the man beside me. If Logan continued onthis path, the thought of possibly being his mate someday didn’t seem entirely unpleasant.

“You’re falling for him,” Ema’s voice echoed in my mind, egging me on.

I shook my head to dispel the thoughts. Logan and I could never be mates; not unless he really didextricate himself entirely from the mafia someday, and despite his acts of philanthropy today, it was stillmafia money-blood money- that allowed him to afford such things. And when it came to the mafia, itwasn’t so easy to just… leave.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “Drinks?”

The weight of the day’s events pressed on me, even as Logan and I entered a dimly lit bar tucked awayin a quiet corner of the city. A warm ambiance emanated from the wooden interiors, amber lighting, and

the muffled sounds of light jazz playing in the background.

Logan chose a table in a secluded corner, providing both privacy and a view of the entire place. “I comehere when I need to… think,” he admitted, his blue eyes scanning the room briefly.

The waiter brought us our drinks-a rich red wine for me, and whiskey on the rocks for him. The first sipfelt like a warm hug, melting away the last of my tension.

For a moment, we both sat in silence, lost in our thoughts. But as the alcohol began to take its edge off,a lighter mood settled between us.

“To new beginnings,” Logan finally toasted, raising his glass to mine. I smirked, tapping my glassagainst his. “And to unexpected turns.”

Our conversation flowed more freely after that, discussing inconsequential things at first-the city, ourfavorite books, and our go-to comfort food.

Then, emboldened by the alcohol and the camaraderie of the moment, I brought up a more personaltopic. “Logan,” I began, my voice slightly hesitant. “Tell me about your mother.”

A shadow passed over his face, but it was quickly replaced by a fond smile.

“She… was amazing, Ella,” he began, his voice filled with reverence. “Kind, wise, and incredibly strong.The type of woman who would light up a room the moment she walked in.”

His eyes misted over, and for a moment, I saw the vulnerable boy beneath the hardened businessmanexterior. “I miss her every single day,” he whispered, his fingers playing with the rim of his glass.

Moved by his openness, I reached out, placing my hand over his. “I’m sorry, Logan,” I murmured, myvoice sincere. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

Logan took a deep breath, a shaky exhale escaping him. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’twish she could see the man I’ve become. I hope she’d be proud.”

“I’m sure she would be,” I whispered, my fingers gently squeezing his. We sat in silence for a moment,the weight of the conversation pressing down on us. But there was a question burning at the back ofmy mind, and the wine had lowered my inhibitions enough for me to ask.

“Logan, how did she…?”

I trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but he understood. His face went rigid, the earlieropenness replaced by a guarded expression. The tension between us grew palpable, and I felt theneed to fill the silence.

“Logan, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just… We’ve been working together for a while now. And ourarrangement-it’s based on mutual respect, understanding, and above all, trust.”

He looked down, taking a deep breath, the emotions playing across his face a testament to the internalbattle he was facing. Finally, he met my gaze, his blue eyes intense, holding a depth of pain I hadn’tseen before.

“Ella,” he began, his voice unsteady. “The truth is… I don’t really know what happened to her.”