Chapter 7 - A Night in Brooklyn
That night, I didn't go back to the mansion. I sent Vanessa a text saying the Tokyo merger had hit a regulatory snag and I was sleeping on the leather sofa in my Midtown office alongside my legal team. She replied within thirty seconds with a string of heart emojis and told me not to work too hard.
Instead, Ryan drove me across the Brooklyn Bridge in the pouring autumn rain.
By the time I unlocked the front door of the brownstone at ten o'clock, the house was quiet and dim, lit only by the warm amber glow of the living room fireplace. Mia was already fast asleep upstairs.
I found Emily sitting curled up on the corner of the plush velvet sofa, a mug of chamomile tea held between her hands, staring into the crackling flames. She had a soft knit blanket draped over her shoulders. When she heard my footsteps on the hardwood floor, she turned her head, and the relief that washed over her face hit me straight in the solar plexus.
"You're okay," she breathed, setting her mug down on the coffee table and standing up before she caught herself, suddenly looking self-conscious. "Sorry. I mean—it was getting late, and with the rain, I didn't know if you were coming by tonight."
"You were worried about me?" I asked quietly, shedding my damp coat and walking over to the hearth.
"Of course I was," she said simply, without a trace of games or artifice. "You're walking into a lion's den every time you go back to that house and pretend nothing is wrong. I know you're powerful, Logan, and I know you have guards, but... people like Vanessa don't have a conscience. That makes them dangerous."
I stopped a foot away from her, looking down into her eyes. For months, I had been surrounded by vipers wearing diamonds and business partners who only looked at me to calculate my net worth. Standing here in front of a woman who didn't have a single penny to her name, yet was losing sleep over my safety, made me feel an ache I hadn't felt since my father died.
"Sit down with me for a minute," I murmured.
We sat together on the sofa, closer than we had the night before. The rain drummed a steady, soothing rhythm against the tall bay windows. For a long moment, neither of us spoke, letting the warmth of the fire wrap around us.
"I got the proof today," I told her quietly, staring into the embers. "All of it. By Saturday afternoon, Vanessa, her fake doctor, and the man she’s been working with will be in federal handcuffs. They'll never see the outside of a prison cell again, Emily. You and Mia will be completely free."
Emily let out a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders dropping several inches as the last remnants of a three-month nightmare finally began to dissolve. "And Mrs. Bennett?"
"Paul says she's already regaining movement in her right arm now that the coagulants and sedatives are out of her bloodstream. She’s going to make it." I turned my head to look at her. "Because of you."
Emily shook her head softly, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Wait... if everything will be over on Saturday... that means Mia and I won't need to hide anymore. I can start looking for an apartment in Queens next week, and find a day job so we aren't imposing on you—"
"Emily," I interrupted, reaching out and covering her hands with mine. Her skin was warm and soft, though slightly roughened at the knuckles from years of hard work. I brought one of her hands up, turning it over and tracing the lifeline on her palm with my thumb. "Do you really think I’m ever letting you and Mia walk out of our lives into some cramped apartment in Queens?"
She looked up, her breath catching as our faces ended up only inches apart. In the firelight, her lips were slightly parted, her eyes wide and searching mine. "Logan... I'm your housekeeper. You're Logan Bennett. Once this nightmare is over, your life goes back to galas and boardrooms and... and people who belong in your world."
"You want to know who belongs in my world?" I whispered, my free hand rising to cup her cheek. "Earlier today, I watched the woman who 'belongs in my world' laugh about murdering my mother on a surveillance screen. Then I drove through the rain to a house in Brooklyn because the only time I can breathe anymore is when Mia is hugging my knees and you're looking at me like I'm just a man, not a bank account."
A tear slipped down Emily’s cheek, catching against my thumb as I brushed it away.
"I don't care about galas, Emily," I said, leaning in until my forehead rested gently against hers. "I care about truth. I care about kindness. And right now, the only thing keeping me sane is knowing you're here."
She closed her eyes, her hand rising to rest tentatively over my wrist, holding my palm against her cheek. We didn't kiss—not yet, not while another woman’s ring was still technically in play, because Emily deserved a man who came to her with clean hands and no shadows between them. Instead, she shifted closer, resting her head against my shoulder as I wrapped my arm tightly around her.
May you like
Before I knew it, the exhaustion of the past week caught up with both of us, and I fell asleep on that velvet sofa holding her against my chest, sleeping more peacefully than I had in ten years.
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