His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 272 A New Perspective

Ella

The weight of the billboard bore down, threatening to crash onto me. Just as I braced myself for impact and felt Ema’s strength surge through me, preparing to lunge out of the way or stiffen my body to repel the impact, Logan surged forward, knocking it away with his superhuman strength.

It was an impressive feat, but as the dust settled, I noticed blood beginning to seep from a wound on his arm. I heard screams and panicked voices around me. Innocent shoppers who were just as shocked as I was. But I didn’t care about them. “Logan!” I shouted, rushing to his side.

He brushed me off with a smirk. “I’ve had worse.” But his eyes betrayed the concern he was trying to hide. “His wound,” Ema said, drawing my attention back to his arm. “It’s… bad. It hurts me, too.”

I had heard the stories before, about ghost pain, caused by a mate getting hurt. It was faint, but it was there. And I was worried, too.

The dust still hung in the air, a misty remnant of the fallen billboard. Logan stood, his armi dripping blood, while I tried to absorb the shock of what had just occurred. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed, bringing with them two men. I started to back away, frightened, but Logan put his good arm around me and gave me a squeeze.

“They’re our men,” he murmured. “Not enemies.”

The men approached, glancing at the wreckage, then at Logan’s bleeding arm, their expressions morphing from concern to sheer panic.

“Boss,” the taller one began, the strain evident in his voice. His dark hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. “We arrived too late. We tracked him down, but we couldn’t intercept him before he triggered the trap.”

was cleverly set up, but that’s no excuse. We

with at voice colder

taller man gulped, hesitation painting his features. “We…we found him. But when we approached, he…” He trailed off, exchanging a quick glance with

himself. He’s

sharp gaze moved from one man to the other, weighing them, judging their worthiness. “I entrusted you both with not just my safety, but hers as well.” His

man, desperation creeping into his voice, stepped forward. “Logan, we’ve been with you

voice, added, “We want revenge as much as you do. Let us make this right.” But Logan wasn’t swayed. “One lapse

or the weight of the failed responsibility. But Logan remained unmoved. He turned away, leaving the men to grapple with the weight

“Leave. Now.”

Logan didn’t

The silence was only broken by the occasional sigh from Logan or the

today, my focus was solely on the

the mansion opened, revealing a middle-aged man with silver hair, glasses perched on his nose, and a medical bag in hand. This was Dr. Mitchell, a trusted ally of Logan’s

one of the plush sofas in the expansive living room. “Sit,”

would have happened. As I watched, Dr. Mitchell expertly cleaned the

face giving away no sign of the pain he must have been in. Their eyes met briefly, a silent communication that seemed to say more than words ever could. “Deep gash,”

dryly. “A falling billboard, and you call that lucky?” The doctor glanced

began to stitch the wound, I found my voice. “Is he going to be

from his work but responded, “He’ll be fine, Miss. A few stitches, some rest, and he’ll be back to his old self.” “So, annoying and brash,

comforting smile, though it didn’t quite reach

in. It felt almost aggravating, for her to be

bond, I thought to myself, looking away while the doctor stitched up Logan’s wound. It’s not fair.

he left, he pulled me aside. “Keep an

Dr. Mitchell, leaving only Logan and me in the room. The