Avaâs POVLoganâs voice broke the heavy silence. âAva, wait⌠we need to talk.âMy hands trembled slightly, and I took a small step back, my heart racing in a way that wasnât excitement or happiness. It was fear,confusion,pain I hadnât fully allowed myself to feel until now.âNo,â I whispered, shaking my head. âThereâs nothing to say.âHe frowned, his usual calm and commanding presence flickering with vulnerability I hadnât expected. âI didnât mean to disappear on you. I had my reasonsâIâŚâI cut him off, voice barely steady but firm. âTwo years, Logan. You left without a word, without even saying goodbye properly. You donât get to just show up and expect everything to be okay.âHis jaw tightened, and I saw the conflict in his eyes. âI wanted to protect you.ââProtect me?â I laughed bitterly. âBy vanishing? By leaving me in the dark while everything fell apart?âTears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away. I wasnât ready to break down here, not now.Logan took a step forward, his
âŁAvaâs POVâŁI woke up with that same tight feeling in my chest, the one that never really went away. By the time I reached the bakery, the shelves were already filled with pastries neatly arranged, warm, and familiar. I kept my hands busy, moving trays and wiping counters, hoping the routine would quiet the thoughts in my mind that refused to let go.I wiped down the counter again, trying to focus on the task rather than the gnawing silence inside me.So much time had passed, but it still felt like I was waiting for something or someone that might never come.I pushed the thought away and forced a smile when a customer approached the counter. âGood morning! What can I get for you today?âAfter serving the few regulars who drifted in, the shop settled into a silence. I took a deep breath and glanced out the window at the sleepy street beyond. The city was still waking up, but for me, every day felt like a slow journey to the unknown .Just then, the familiar jingle of the doorbell m
âŁAva POV⣠(Two Years Later)The city I lived in now was nothing like Westbridge. It didnât have the same old buildings or that annoying sounds in the library steps. It was busier, colder, and the sky was almost always cloudy , a perfect match for how Iâd felt for the last two years.I stood in the cafĂŠ I now worked at, wiping down a table as rain tapped against the windowpane. Another rainy day,another quiet shift ,another memory of him.Logan Carter.Some days, I still expected him to walk through the door with that same cocky grin, messed-up hair, a dumb joke ready on his lips. But he never did. He never would.He was gone.Not officially because there was never a death certificate,no headlines,no funeral. Just... gone. Like he vanished with the wind the night the Carter empire fell.I only know about his father's death,but I haven't heard from him or Levi ever since they disappeared.My fingers tightened around the rag.âStill thinking about him?â Charlotteâs voice pulled me back.
Logan POV**It was a Thursday. The rain was endless, drumming on the rooftop of the penthouse. I stood by the window, watching the city lights flicker through the fog, waiting for my father.He came in, his tie was loose, anger simmering in his eyes.âThe Italians pulled out,â he snapped. âSaid they donât want to deal with someone who canât protect his own house.âI stayed quiet,I just waited to see where this conversation was going.He poured himself a drink, his hand shaking. âSomethingâs wrong, Logan. Someoneâs coming for me.ââ OrâŚsomeone already has.âHe paused the glass halfway to his lips. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing.âWhat did you say?âI stepped forward. âI said... someone already has.âThe silence between us was sickening.âWhat the fuck are you talking about?âI took out the burner phone,the one with all the pictures. All the proof. I tossed it on the table. It slid across the polished wood and stopped inches from his hand.He picked it up,clicked it open and scro
Logan's pov The casino reeked of smoke and regret. Dust hung in the air like ghosts of gamblers past, and the slot machines stood silent, their blinking lights long dead. I sat across from Rafa Moretti at a cracked poker table, the green felt stained with old whiskey and blood."You're serious about this?" he asked, swirling the amber liquor in his glass. "Taking down your old man?"I nodded. "Every inch of him. His empire. His lies. I want it all gone."He leaned back, examining me like I was a wild card he couldnât quite read. "You got a plan, Carter's boy? Or are you just running on revenge and adrenaline?""Iâve got a plan. Iâve spent months watching, studying. I know his weak links, his distribution routes, his shell companies. I have everything."Rafa raised a brow. "Including leverage?"I hesitated.Then I slid the notebook across the table.He flipped through itâpages of surveillance photos, coded names, offshore accounts. His smirk faltered. "Damn. You really did your homewo
Logan POVThe bus roared as it pulled away from the terminal, leaving behind the city I used to call home. I sat stiffly in the back row, the seat sticky against my jacket, my long legs aching from the ride. The city I was in was unfamiliar, Even the air smelled different here. Like rust and rain, instead of the salty, familiar breeze back home.I had no name here. I was not the star quarterback, Westbridge heart throb,nor the son of the famous Billionaire.No one knew me here. The driver called me Mr. Daniels when I checked into the cheap motel off the highway. The ID in my pocket matched. A new identity for a new life I didnât want.But I had no choice.I dropped my duffel on the sagging bed and stared at the blank ceiling. No posters. No Ava's laugh echoing through my thoughts. No scent of her skin on my hoodie. Just silence.It was safer this way.At least, thatâs what I told myself.She didnât know. She couldnât know. If she did, everything would be a waste. Sheâd come for me.