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.”

on me, his expression unreadable once more. But

ventured cautiously, “What about the tenants? It’s not really fair to evict

just a statue,” he said, his voice so low it was

I replied, swallowing somewhat. “But my point still stands. There are people, families,

job is to win cases for me, not to serve as

morally superior in any way,” I replied, matching his intensity. “But isn’t it part of my role to offer

studying me. “Look, Ella, my reasons are my own. Why

better? To honor your mother in a way she would truly appreciate? Evicting

what my mother

responded calmly, holding his gaze. “I’m not saying that. I’m just asking you to

tension in the room was palpable, our two wills colliding like opposing

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

Logan. I’ll do my

his chair, his posture rigid. Without another word, he strode out

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

his final words were a sharp reminder of the world he inhabited a world of power plays, of ruthless decisions, and of

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

Logan’s departure was almost suffocating. Before I could gather my thoughts,

with concern. I sighed deeply, running a hand through my

growled softly, a low rumble echoing in the back of my mind. “You’re more than just his lawyer. You’re a person with values, with ethics. Remember

Ema. I really did. But you saw him-how

voice held a hint of defiance. “And what about our values? What about standing up for those who can’t? I thought you believed in justice, in doing

do,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the responsibility. “But sometimes, my hands are tied. There are battles I can’t

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