His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 265 #Chapter 13 Sleeping With The Flanco

Ella

As we exited the mansion, the gravel crunched underfoot, the sound reverberating in the otherwise silent evening. Logan led the way, his long strides confident and unhurried.

We approached a sleek black car with tinted windows. Its polished surface mirrored the moon’s glow, casting eerie reflections of our figures.

“Get in,” he instructed, not a command so much as a casual suggestion. But his clear blue eyes told a different story. They were always watching, assessing. I hesitated, eyeing the vehicle and then him.

“Where are we going?” My voice carried a hint of defiance, a touch of the suspicion I felt. Logan had an unpredictable streak that made him intriguing, but also undeniably dangerous.

“To eat,” he replied nonchalantly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know a good place.” The guarded expression didn’t leave my eyes. “And why should I trust you? If you try any tricks, Logan, I swear, I’ll kill you.”

tilted his head, fully exposing the vulnerable column of his neck. “Like I said

audacity. “You’re full of shit.” Logan chuckled, a rich sound

sliding in. As he took the driver’s seat, the scent of leather and a hint of his cologne

less-frequented roads. I realized we weren’t as isolated as I’d thought. The towering buildings of the city loomed in the

beautiful, watching the city skyline from this perspective, a shimmering mirage against the dark tapestry of

into a parking space outside a quaint burger joint by the water. The neon sign buzzed softly, casting its warm light over the exterior, and

of pride in his voice. “Told you I

was surprised. This didn’t seem like the sort of place that someone like Logan would go to eat. It seemed like nothing more than a simple waterside burger joint. But then again, I supposed that this mobster had more to

out of the luxurious car. “Why am I always

someone who claims to be such an independent spirit, you sure

meant for Ema. “Sorry,”

the still night air. It was strangely infectious, and despite

us as we approached the burger joint,

edge of the waterfront, almost kissing the harbor’s embrace. Picnic tables, filled to the brim with happy families and flirting

fingers and said something to the cashier that I couldn’t quite make out. A few moments later, I was being ushered over to the end of the counter. It wasn’t long before two burgers, wrapped in paper, and

his head toward a back entrance. I followed him hesitantly, but upon bursting back out into the cool night, I

shimmering under the moonlight. Every so often, the gentle lap of waves against the shore would create ripples, making the water dance in a symphony

of colors, pierced the night sky, standing tall and proud. They cast

gangster movies, you know?” I said, glancing at the glistening water. “There’s always that ominous line about ‘sleeping with the fishes’. I’m

dancing in his eyes. “Before any watery farewells, I promise, at least you’ll have a delicious final meal.”