Chapter 298 Ella’s Got A Gun

Ella

The bar was dimly lit, its ambiance intensified by the low hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the soft strains of ambient music. Golden chandeliers, casting sporadic glows, adorned the room, contrasting the otherwise dark woodwork.

I felt the cool leather of the bar stool beneath me as I observed the people around, each of them engrossed in their own narratives, oblivious to mine.

It’s amazing how, even in a room full of people, you can feel alone, disconnected. My fingers. absentmindedly played with the stem of my wine glass as I lost myself in my thoughts, waiting for Logan to return.

“Is this seat taken?” The voice was suave, a touch too smooth. Turning slightly, I found myself looking up at a tall man, his finely tailored suit hinting at wealth and power. I gave a noncommittal shrug. “It’s free.”

He grinned, revealing perfectly aligned teeth. “You’re Logan Barrett’s, aren’t you?” There was a knowing glint in his eyes, as though he believed he had already figured me out. I arched an eyebrow, choosing my words carefully. “I’m with Logan tonight.”

The man chuckled. “With Logan’? So diplomatic of you.” He leaned in closer, the scent of his expensive cologne mingling with the aroma of alcohol. “I’ve got more to offer than Barrett does. What do you say? Spend the night with me instead.”

not the first time I had encountered such brazenness, and I doubted it would be the last. Maintaining my composure, I offered him at polite but

some sign of faltering in my stance. Eventually, he let out a breathy laugh and

just loud enough for me to hear, “too loyal, even when there’s a hefty wad of cash on the line. Wasn’t like this

urging me to snap back, to correct his misconception and assert my dignity. “Tell him! Tell him you’re not some

quelled the urge, calming the

this way,” I whispered back to her internally. “If he thinks I’m just an escort, he won’t dig deeper. If he

remained cloaked. The world I had

with my decision. “Seems a bit cowardly,” she remarked, a hint of disappointment tingeing

do that sometimes, it’s the small sacrifices that keep us safe,” I replied gently,

drink, allowing the cool liquid to soothe my frayed nerves. Tonight had already proven to be more eventful than I’d expected, and the night

hum of conversation and the fading music formed a gentle symphony around me, but I felt like an outsider, an observer of a scene that was just out of my reach. The bar was bustling with activity, the lights

and the other a younger man with the same dark hair and slightly less sharp jawline-Harry, Logan’s

he spoke to Logan, was eerily enigmatic, a facade of cheer that didn’t quite reach his eyes. That smile sent chills

in his eyes as if he were a world away. I could tell he was in his element, playing the part of the loyal Barrett son, but there was an undercurrent of unrest, a shadow that reminded me of our dance moments ago. A dance so charged, I still felt its electricity. tingling on

gaze. It was Marina. She was wearing a tight red dress, much like the one she wore at the family dinner. Red certainly was her color-the color

cloying sound of her voice. Maybe it was the way she sauntered wherever she walked, like a marionette that had been freed of its strings and was now free to roam on its own, having

her eyes. Her narrow, knowing eyes. The way that her body and her voice created the impression of a dimwitted heiress, but her eyes knew everything. Saw everything. Saw straight through not only

me with those eyes, and a smirk on her face. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks flush red. As I tried to busy myself with a fresh drink, Logan finally approached, his face

my

like you just saw a ghost.” He took a deep breath. “My brother’s throwing an after-party on his yacht tonight. He wants us

serious? After that… that display on the dance floor?

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