His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 331

Chapter 331 Safehouse

Ella

In the dim lighting of my apartment, with the memory of spilt wine still fresh, Logar”s face wore an expression I hadn’t seen before-gentle persuasion edged with determination.

“Ella,” he began, his voice hushed yet demanding attention, “I understand that trust has become a rare commodity for you. But remember when you asked me to trust you? 1 did. I told you about my mother. Now, I’m asking you to do the same.”

I looked away, trying to keep the emotions from swamping me. The walls I’d built around my heart seemed to crumble bit by bit with each word he spoke. But I was hesitant. “Logan, it’s not that simple. The world I’ve come to know is filled with shadows and deceit. How can I be sure? How can I trust anyone, even you?” NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

His blue eyes pierced through my defenses. “Because I have connections, Ella. Connections that will ensure your sister’s safety. I promise, no one will ever know. You just have to trust me.”

I swallowed hard, wrestling with my uncertainties. But as much as I didn’t want to admit it, there was a pull-a force drawing me toward him and his promise of safety. After all, it wasn’t just about me, Daisy’s safety was at stake.

Seeing my hesitation, Logan offered his hand. “Come with me. I have a place-my mansion. It’s fortified and safe. You’ll be out of harm’s way there.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s okay,” I said. “I’ll be fine here-”

“Nonsense.” Logan’s voice was deep and a little irritated. “You’re staying at my mansion tonight. I won’t allow it any other way.”

Logan’s car glided to a halt in front of the grand mansion, its facade a testament to both timeless elegance and modern design. I gazed up at it, awed by its sheer magnitude.

Even though I had already visited once, I still wasn’t used to the place. The ivy-covered walls, the fountain in the driveway, the large oaken doors-everything seemed to have been taken from a page of a fairy-tale.

He caught my stare and smirked. “Welcome to my humble abode. Although I guess you’ve already been here. And it’s not that humble.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “You’ve got that right.”

He chuckled, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

As we entered, the grandeur inside was even more overwhelming. Chandeliers made of intricate crystal patterns hung from the ceilings, reflecting light in a prism of colors. The polished marble floors reflected the ambient lights, and opulent artwork adorned the walls.

He led me through a vast living area adorned with plush couches and a fireplace that spread a warm, comforting glow.

“The main living space,” Logan pointed out nonchalantly, as though he was showing off a regular room and not a space that was almost the size of my entire apartment. “Feel free to use the TV in here. And help yourself to the bar if you want a drink.”

We moved on, and I got a glimpse of a lavish dining area, a study with bookshelves reaching the high ceiling, and a state-of-the-art kitchen that looked like it belonged in a gourmet chef’s dreams.

In the kitchen, a woman, perhaps in her fifties with a stern yet kind face, was busy overseeing what smelled like a delightful dinner in the making. Seeing us, she wiped her hands on her apron and

approached with a smile.

“Ah, Mrs. Wentworth,” Logan greeted warmly.

“Logan,” she replied, nodding her head. Her gaze shifted to me, appraising but not unkind. She reminded me of Selina, my parents’ housekeeper. “And this must be Ella.”

I extended a hand, feeling oddly out of place in my simple attire and disheveled state. It almost felt as though the past few years living on my own in my humble apartment made me forget how to act in the face of opulence, even though I had grown up with it.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I said.

Mrs. Wentworth took my hand with a firm grip. “The pleasure’s all mine, dear. If you need anything during your stay, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Logan beamed, patting the housekeeper’s shoulder fondly. “Mrs. Wentworth has been with us for years. She’s practically family.”

Before I could reply, he began to lead me away. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Blushing, I hastily responded, “I’m not sharing a bed with you, Logan.”

He burst out laughing, clearly amused. “Ella, take a good look around. In this mansion, do you seriously think I have only one bedroom?”

A little embarrassed by my earlier outburst, I muttered, “I just wanted to make things clear.”

He led me up a sweeping staircase, its banister carved from dark wood, and down a long, plush- carpeted corridor lined with numerous doors.

“And here we are,” Logan announced, stopping in front of an intricately carved door.

As it swung open, I was greeted by a spacious, airy bedroom. A king-sized bed with crisp white sheets and a mountain of soft pillows sat against one wall, while large French windows on the opposite side offered a panoramic view of the estate’s expansive gardens. There was a warmth to the room, with its muted pastel tones and soft lighting. Beside the main room was another door, which opened to reveal a marble-clad bathroom complete with a clawfoot bathtub and a rain shower.

“It’s…” I began, searching for the right words. “It’s beautiful. You have better taste than I thought.”

Logan smirked, leaning against the door frame. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted you to be comfortable. Feel free to settle in.”

His casual demeanor and the understated luxury of the room did instill a sense of peace within me. The tension that had gripped me for so long seemed to melt away.

I sighed, letting the room’s tranquility envelop me. For the first time in a long while, I felt at ease, safe. And a large part of that was thanks to Logan.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

Logan nodded. “Don’t sweat it. Now, you wait here… I’m about to make some moves, set some things straight regarding those attackers.”

As the gravity of his words sank in, panic surged within me. I sprang up from the plush bed and dashed toward him, catching him just as he was about to leave the room. My fingers wrapped around his wrist in a grip that was both desperate and pleading.

“Will you be okay?” The concern in my voice was genuine, revealing a side of me I hadn’t realized existed.

Logan chuckled, looking genuinely amused. “Oh, so now the billionaire princess is worried about little old me?”

My cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and anger. “You…” I began, my voice trailing off as I attempted to muster a sharp retort, but he just grinned wider.

“Don’t pout,” he teased, lifting a hand to lightly tap the tip of my nose. “I’ll be fine. I’ve faced worse.”

His confidence, while reassuring, did little to quell the storm of emotions inside me. “You better come back soon,” I whispered, surprising myself with the vulnerability in my voice.

He nodded, his eyes softening, the playfulness replaced by earnestness. “Promise,” he murmured, and with a last lingering glance, he left, leaving me alone in the enormous bedroom.

The night seemed longer, each passing minute filled with an odd mix of comfort from the luxurious surroundings and anxiety about Logan’s whereabouts.

After a long bath, I found solace in the warmth of the bed and the distant promise of dawn. The aching in my head subsided as I laid my head on the plush pillows and sipped a tea prepared for me by Mrs. Wentworth, and for a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the finer things in life after pushing away my wealthy upbringing for so long.

But really, deep down, the walls of doubt began to crumble further. Would my sister really be safe after all of this, or were we just trying to stave off the inevitable in this dark world?

For now, though, all I could do was wait and hope that Logan didn’t get himself into any trouble that I couldn’t get him out of.