Chapter ten: I am in your house

Logan's POV

"I am sorry," she mouthed, breathless. I glared at her, my anger still simmering, but her apology caught me off guard. "Why are you eating like that?" I asked again, trying to keep my tone neutral. She looked down, her cheeks flushing. "I have not eaten all day," she said quietly. My anger began to dissipate, replaced by concern. What had happened to her?

"Sit down, let's eat together, I am not mad at you anymore, eat then we can discuss after" I guided her to the table, pulling out a chair for her. She slowly sat down, still looking down, her eyes welling up with tears.

I think I had made her lose her appetite, because she only took small bites. As much as I loved the fear in her eyes, I hated the glistening tears in her eyes. They made me feel like I'd crossed a line, like I'd hurt her more than I intended. I reached out, gently wiping away a tear that rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you." She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. I could see the fear, but also something else, a spark of hope, maybe?

The look in her eyes made me want to kiss her, but I had to control myself and stand up. "You eat, I'll go take my shower," I said, trying to sound casual as I hurried away. As I walked to the bathroom, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I'd just made things more complicated. I turned on the shower, letting the warm water calm my racing thoughts. What was I doing? Why did I care about her so much? I stood there, letting the water wash over me, trying to clear my head.

As I stood under the showerhead, the warm water cascading down my skin, I couldn't shake off the image of her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement, her lips curled into a gentle smile as she greedily devour the food. I felt like I was losing my grip on reality, like I was being pulled into a whirlpool of emotions I couldn't control.

I growled to myself, frustration mounting. I had bought her to serve a purpose, to keep my true love safe from harm. But now, this slave was somehow getting under my skin. I tried to push aside the thoughts, telling myself I was being ridiculous. But the image of her haunted me, the way she looked at me with a mix of fear and defiance, the way her eyes sparkled in the light.

It felt like the warm water was only fueling my desire, so I pressed the cold button and let the icy water flow down my head. I needed to clear my head and shake off these unwanted feelings. I shouldn't get distracted by her.

As the cold water hit my skin, I felt a jolt of reality. I was a master, and she was my slave. It was a simple, yet unyielding fact. I couldn't let my emotions cloud my judgment. I had to maintain control, not just over her, but over myself.

I shouldn't get entangled with her. She's a slave, a possession, not a potential partner. I've got to keep my priorities straight and focus on protecting my true love.

As the cold water continued to pour down my head, I tried to shake off the conflicting emotions. But the memory of her eyes, her smile, and her fierce spirit lingered, refusing to be washed away.

I turned off the shower, stepped out, and began to dry myself off. My mind was still reeling with thoughts of her, and I knew I had to find a way to keep my distance. But as I looked around the luxurious bathroom, I couldn't help but wonder where she was, what she was doing, and whether she was thinking of me too.

I got dressed in a pair of white shirt and black jean trousers, the familiar comfort of the clothes a welcome respite from the turmoil brewing inside me. I ran a hand through my damp hair, trying to tame the unruly strands. As I checked myself in the mirror, my eyes seemed to hold a hint of tension, a reflection of the conflicting emotions I was trying to keep at bay.

As I scanned the pages, my mind was preoccupied with the latest developments in the mafia's affairs. The rival families were making bold moves, testing the boundaries of our territory. I gritted my teeth, my thoughts consumed by strategies and countermeasures. The document in front of me was a report on the mafia's financial dealings, and I needed to stay focused.

I hesitated for a moment before answering, wondering what Diva wanted. Her voice was like honey on the other end of the line, sweet and smooth. "Hey, handsome. How's my favorite master doing today?" she purred. I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth despite myself. Diva was a force to be reckoned with, and I knew better than to underestimate her.

"Why did you call me?" I asked still flipping the documents in front of me. "Can't I you without a reason" she asked.

"Of course you can call me whenever you want, how may I help you?"

"Come downstairs I am in your house"