His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 332 The Whistler

Logan

The air in the room was thick with tension as I strode in, my gaze fixated on the man I had trusted the most-James, my chief bodyguard and the one person who I put in charge of keeping an eye on Ella all those weeks ago when I found out about the men who harassed her in the park.

There were moments in life where words weren’t required to convey the depth of one’s anger, and this was one of those moments. My face, I knew, was an open book of seething fury.

“James.” My voice was colder than the north wind in winter. “I trusted you with one thing. ONE thing. To keep an eye on her. How could you let this happen?”

James, despite his tall frame and muscular build, appeared smaller under my gaze. “I’m sorry, Logan,” he muttered, genuine remorse evident in his tone. “They moved faster than we anticipated. I managed to trail them a bit though.”

I clenched my fists, taking a deep breath to prevent myself from completely losing it. Ella’s safety had become more than just a duty; it was personal. “And?” I pressed, my voice dripping with impatience,

“I got a license plate number,” he announced, pulling out a scrap of paper from his pocket and extending it toward me.

I snatched it from his hand, scanning the scribbled digits and letters. This was good, very good. Even a single piece of concrete information could be the key to unlocking this puzzle.

“This is valuable, James,” I conceded with a nod. “I hope you understand the gravity of the situation.”

“I do,” he said, eyes downcast. “And I’m ready to make amends.”

I turned away from him, addressing the group of men assembled around. “Gather up. We’ve got a lead. Let’s not waste time.”

After a quick search using my connections, the license plate was traced to an owner in the city -a certain Daniel Lawson, a name I hadn’t heard of. But names meant little in the city’s underbelly; aliases and pseudonyms were more common than true identities. Before I could leave, though, Mrs. Wentworth’s voice caught my attention.

“Logan. Here. Now.”

for me for so long that she

had come home after playing in the mud. “You’re going

something I need

hen. “You always have

down to give her a light peck on her cheek. “I’ll be fine,

back, her gaze piercing. “That young

I replied, “Yes, she is.” I was about to add more when

More than you realize, or

of amusement creeping into my voice. “Mrs.

her expression stern. “I may be old, Logan, but I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way

bit awkward. “Ella doesn’t like me in that way. We’re business

happening, Mrs. Wentworth’s hand shot up, giving

I exclaimed, rubbing the spot.

love. When Ella looks at you, I see that same emotion in her eyes. Maybe she hasn’t admitted

to process her words. Could she be right? My mind was swirling with memories of Ella and our interactions. Had I really missed something so evident? I thought that Ella hated my guts because of what I was.

Mrs. Wentworth’s demeanor softened. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Logan. Not just for your

weight of her words settled in my chest. “I promise,” I murmured, my voice

humming through our bond. The idea that Ella could harbor deeper feelings for

patted my cheek

lad. Now, off you go and do what you need to do. And remember, sometimes the answers we seek are right in front

the city’s twisted alleys and streets, finally arriving at a worn-out, gray building, its facade appearing as shady