Logan had worked harder. Changed everything… his body, his name, his place in the world.
Logan Kingsley. It's not just a name anymore. It's a brand. Not the soft, overweight nobody in hand-me-downs anymore.
And when fate handed him a deal where Jean had to marry him, he took it. With satisfaction.
He would own her world. Make her bend. Make her remember the man she spat on.
That was the plan.
So why the hell was he here… cooking her dinner? Watching over her sleep? Confronting boardroom sharks on her behalf and bringing her ice cream just to see her smile?
Why was he worried about her eating?
Why was it easier to remember the way she looked in pain than it was to recall his own grudge?
He had sworn to make her days hell.
But instead…
He was giving her shelter.
Softness.
A home.
Logan pressed his hand to the back of his neck and stared at the ceiling.
