His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 321 Discovery

Ella

The moonlight streamed into the living room, casting a dim glow over the scattered papers around me.

My floor had turned into a makeshift work desk, a testament to the unyielding hours I’d spent trying to decipher every detail of the case. A nearly empty wine glass sat next to me, a small but rebellious act of indulgence for the night. I had to arm myself mentally and emotionally to go toe-to-toe with Mr. Westbrook tomorrow.

The sneering manner in which he’d dismissed me earlier had left a sting, a challenge I couldn’t ignore. Proving Logan’s innocence was paramount, but so was showing Westbrook that I was a formidable opponent.

With every document I pored over, my determination grew stronger. I wouldn’t let Westbrook’s presumptions dictate the course of this case. I was a force to be reckoned with, and I intended to make sure he knew it. As I reached for another sheet, the sudden buzz of my apartment’s intercom startled me.

Groaning softly, I got up, the joints in my legs protesting after hours of sitting. Peering at the monitor, Logan’s face greeted me. His eyes, even in the grainy display, conveyed a mixture of concern and hesitation.

“Ella?” His voice crackled over the speaker. Sighing, I pressed the button. “It’s late, Logan. What are you doing here?”

“Just…a little worried about you after earlier, that’s all,” he admitted, fidgeting with the collar of his jacket.

I hesitated for a moment, then relented, buzzing him in. As the door clicked open, I returned to my floor, settling back amidst the sea of papers.

Logan walked in, his eyes darting around the room, taking in the chaotic spread of legal documents. “Working hard, I see.”

“It’s more about working smart,” I murmured, not lifting my eyes from a particularly perplexing affidavit. “Just gearing up for tomorrow.”

Logan pulled up a barstool and perched himself on it, scrutinizing my every move. The weight of his gaze was palpable, an almost tangible pressure. “Need a hand?”

I glanced up, offering him a wry smile. “I’ve got this, Logan. But, I guess a little company won’t hurt. Since you’re here, and all.”

sat in silence, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of paper and the muted clinks of our glasses. He watched, attentive and silent, as

we had spent working together. I hated to admit it, but he almost was beginning to feel like… a friend. Or, at the very least, his presence

moment, he spoke, his voice low and

I shrugged. “Go on.”

throat. “You look

shot him a skeptical look. I was just wearing a ratty hoodie, some equally ratty shorts, and I had my hair up in a sloppy bun atop my head. I

what?” I asked. “A sleep-deprived slob

shaking his head. “No, studious. Focused. It’s…endearing. And, for the record, you look

cheeks, a deep crimson that no wine could induce. “You’re delusional,” I mumbled, trying to focus on a document and

gentleness in his eyes. “Perhaps. But I still

the scattered sheets, shoving them into a neat pile.. “I should probably head to bed.

letting me hang out for a bit. And remember, I’m here

a tired smile. “Just…don’t

his silhouette fading into the night. “Wouldn’t dream of

focus to just Mr. Westbrook, the insufferably condescending attorney

phase, he was legally bound to provide any and all information related to the case. And, perhaps for the first

we’re in the discovery phase, I’d like to formally request all the crime

a skeptical eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the directness of my request. “Photos and evidence? All

replied, not breaking

running a hand through his

line. The soft ping of my phone moments later signaled the receipt of the photos. “However, just to set the record straight,” he added, shooting me a smug look, “there was no ‘evidence’. Just

“No evidence? That’s highly unusual, don’t you think? A crime scene that bloody, and

perpetrator was meticulous, Miss Morgan. Not all criminals leave their tools behind. Just ask your

him and began scrolling through the images. Westbrook hmphed