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.”

the occasional rustle of paper and the muted clinks of

hated to admit it, but he almost was

moment, he spoke, his voice low and

I shrugged. “Go on.”

cleared his throat. “You look really

hand midway between a document and my wine glass. Raising an eyebrow, I 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

“A

his head. “No, studious. Focused. It’s…endearing. And, for

could feel the warmth flooding my cheeks, a deep crimson that no wine could induce. “You’re delusional,” I mumbled, trying

was soft, echoing the gentleness in his eyes. “Perhaps. But I still

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

on the counter. “Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit.

replied with a tired smile. “Just…don’t be

silhouette fading into

blur for a moment, narrowing my focus to just Mr. Westbrook, the insufferably condescending attorney opposite

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

phase, I’d like to formally request all the crime scene photos and the entire

clearly taken aback by the

not breaking eye

heavily, running a hand through his

tight line. The soft ping of my phone moments later signaled the receipt of the photos. “However, just to set the record straight,” he added,

evidence? That’s highly unusual, don’t you think? A crime scene that bloody,

smirk grew wider. “Perhaps the perpetrator was meticulous, Miss Morgan. Not all criminals leave their tools behind. Just ask your

Westbrook hmphed to himself and returned to his hushed conversation with his client