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.”

only by the occasional rustle of paper and the muted clinks of our glasses. He watched, attentive and silent, as I pieced together fragments of

the time we had spent working together. I hated to admit it, but he almost was beginning to feel like… a

voice low and soft. “Can

I shrugged. “Go on.”

his throat. “You look really pretty like

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 hadn’t

asked. “A sleep-deprived slob

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

that no wine could induce. “You’re delusional,” I mumbled, trying to focus on a document and failing spectacularly. “And you’re just

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

I started gathering the scattered sheets, shoving them into a neat pile.. “I should

his empty glass on the counter. “Thanks for letting me hang out for

a

into the night. “Wouldn’t

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

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

my eyes and tilting my head just slightly, “Since we’re in the discovery phase, I’d like to formally request all the crime scene

eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the directness of

not breaking eye contact. “Every

a hand through his salt-and-pepper

lips pressing into a 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, shooting me a smug look, “there

gnawing at me. “No evidence? That’s highly unusual, don’t you think? A crime scene that bloody, and nothing

meticulous, Miss Morgan. Not all criminals leave their tools behind.

my instinctive snarky retort, I thanked him and began scrolling through the images. Westbrook hmphed