His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 310 Moral Compass

Ella

“Your mother?” I asked, shooting Logan a quizzical look. “What does your mother have to do with this case?”

The weight of Logan’s gaze was palpable as he began to speak. “The land… it’s more than just an asset, Ella.”

His voice was soft, yet there was an undeniable intensity lurking beneath. I leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. His usually unreadable face hinted at vulnerability, a side of him I had yet to see.

“My mother used to own a shop there,” he started, pausing as if gathering his thoughts. “It was her pride and joy-a little sanctuary away from the chaos of the world. It was the last piece of independence she had.”

I watched him closely, the atmosphere thickening with every word. “Your mother? But I thought she was always… well, with your father.”

“She was,” he replied, hesitating slightly. “But before the overwhelming demands of our family took over, she had that little shop. My father made her leave it behind. She missed it every day.” Logan’s fingers tightened on the edge of my desk, his knuckles whitening.

There was so much unsaid between those lines. He kept speaking of his mother in the past tense, implying that she was no longer alive. I wanted to ask, but I chose to keep quiet.

There was a whole lifetime of pain, loss, and perhaps even regret in his eyes. It was jarring to see this side of Logan. A stark contrast to the ruthless businessman and Mafia boss I’d come to know.

“I intend to have that land, Ella,” he continued, his eyes fixed on a distant point, as though looking into the past. “I want to build a plaza there… with a statue of her. A place to honor her with.”

“That’s… really touching,” I admitted, my heart softening towards him. The image of a young Logan, perhaps clutching his mother’s hand in front of her beloved shop, played in my mind. “It’s a beautiful gesture. I’m sure she would love that.”

“She would have,” Logan said quietly. “She’s gone now. Has been for many years.” My eyes widened slightly, although I had an inkling that his mother had passed. “I’m sorry.”

His gaze refocused on me, his expression unreadable

a nagging concern remained. “But Logan,” I ventured cautiously, “What about the tenants? It’s not really fair to

moment, clearly not expecting the question. “It’s not just a statue,” he said, his voice so low it was almost a growl. “It’s more than

replied, swallowing somewhat. “But my point still stands. There are people, families, living in those apartments. You’d really evict all

my lawyer. Your job is to win cases for me, not to serve as

matching his intensity. “But isn’t it part of my role to offer counsel? Both

leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Look, Ella, my reasons are my own. Why does it matter so much to

of you that wants to be better? To honor your mother in a way she would truly appreciate? Evicting families, people with lives and memories just like you, doesn’t seem like

my mother would want?” he asked. “You

that. I’m just

tension in

Ella,” he finally said, his voice firm. “And stop trying to make me feel

was little more to be said. “Alright, Logan. I’ll

rose from his chair, his posture rigid. Without another word, he strode

a depth to him I hadn’t anticipated. Yet, with Logan, there were always layers, each more intricate and enigmatic than

inhabited a world of power plays, of ruthless decisions, and of a legacy he seemed both bound

I felt a mix of emotions. Respect for the love he held for his mother, frustration at his stubbornness, and an overwhelming urge to bridge the distance between us, to

the silence left in the wake of Logan’s departure was almost suffocating. Before I could gather my thoughts, the familiar presence

what are you going to do?” she questioned, her voice tinged with concern. I sighed deeply, running a hand through my hair. “I’m his lawyer. My duty is to

his lawyer. You’re a person with values, with ethics. Remember

my chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. “I tried, Ema. I really did. But you saw him-how he is. He’s set in

held a hint of defiance. “And what about our values? What about standing up

whispered, feeling the weight of the responsibility. “But sometimes, my hands are tied. There are battles I can’t win, no