10. Possession
TEN
POSSESSION
Logan
The CyberMind acquisition has thrown Monarch Ventures into overdrive. Victoria’s arranged a company dinner to celebrate—and, more importantly, to parade Bella and me in front of the board again.
“Remind me why we need to do this?” I call through Bella’s bedroom door. She’s been getting ready for an hour, probably just to drive me insane.
“Because your board thinks you’re secretly a serial killer who keeps his victims in a basement, and I’m your shot at appearing human.” Her voice carries through the door. “Also, you’re the one who made me reschedule three client meetings for this.”
I lean against the doorframe, smiling despite myself. Living together has created this strange comfort I wasn’t expecting.
“My schedule was perfectly fine before you started messing with it,” I remind her.
“Your schedule was a crime against humanity.” The door opens, and my comeback dies in my throat. She’s wearing a deep blue dress that makes me forget why we’re arguing.
“You’re staring,” she says, brushing past me to grab her earrings from the kitchen counter.
I follow her, drawn like I always am. “The board’s going to love you in that dress.”
“The board already loves me. I’m the woman who supposedly tamed the great Logan Fraser.” She turns, catching me standing closer than I meant to. “Even if we both know better.”
The air changes between us like it always does when we’re this close. Living together means dozens of these moments—reaching for the same coffee mug, passing in hallways, pretending we don’t feel this pull, trying hard not to pull each other into a maddening kiss.
My phone buzzes, breaking the moment. It’s a text from Victoria.
Don’t be late.
Bella steps away to check her own messages. Her expression shifts slightly.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just... my mom. Wants to know when I’m visiting Cedar Grove.” She shrugs, but I catch something in her voice. “Keeps saying the house is too quiet since Dad died.”
It’s the first time she’s mentioned her father. In all these years of knowing about her through Audrey, I never knew.
“When did he...?”
“Eleven years ago. Heart attack. I left home a few months later to create a future for myself. So, there was college and stuff…” She busies herself with her clutch. “My mom’s been trying to get me to move back ever since. Can’t understand why I’d choose Manhattan over small-town Pennsylvania.”
I want to ask more, but her expression says not tonight. Instead, I hand her the shawl she’s looking for before she asks.
“Thanks.” She looks surprised, as she always does when I anticipate her needs. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be emotionally unavailable, you’re weirdly observant.”
“Only about things that matter.”
Our eyes meet in the hallway mirror, and there’s that charge again. That dangerous current that makes me forget this is all supposed to be pretend.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Bella says.
“What thing?”
“That brooding CEO look. The one you get right before making some cutting remark in that accent.”
My lips twitch. “You’ve been paying attention.”
“Someone had to keep track of the infamous Logan Fraser.” She grabs her clutch. “All those business articles I pretended not to read.”
“Like I pretended not to notice you at every corporate event Audrey dragged you to?”
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “We’ve been idiots, haven’t we?”
“Phenomenally stupid,” I agree, then switch to my CEO voice. “Ready to convince the board we’re madly in love?”
She moves away, heading outside to the car, and I follow behind. But I don’t miss how she looks over her shoulder at me as I follow.
* * *
The private dining room at Le Bernardin is intimate. Victoria tracks our every move while pretending not to. The rest of the board isn’t much better.
Bella speaks with Harrison’s wife about things she should not know of.
“The annual report projections,” Harrison drones, but I’m caught in all the memories of her I’ve acquired throughout the years.
“The garden’s lovely this time of year,” Victoria announces after dessert. “Logan, why don’t you show Bella? Take a break from business talk.”
It’s not really a suggestion.
The restaurant’s garden is small but serves its purpose. String lights create intimate corners away from prying eyes. We walk around in circles, enjoying the quiet company of one another.
Bella finds a quiet spot near a flowering wall.
“You’re thinking too loud,” she says.
“Just remembering.”
“What?”
“All the times I told myself you were off-limits.” I step closer. “Audrey’s best friend. The one person I couldn’t risk messing things up with.”
“So you went after her other friends instead?”
I reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. “None of them were you.”
She leans into my touch.
“Right.”
My thumb traces her jaw.
“Logan?” Harrison’s voice carries from the doorway. “The board’s waiting for your speech.”
Bella steps back, but her eyes stay locked on mine. The pretense we’ve maintained—both to the board and ourselves—feels painfully thin.
“Coming,” I call back, but catch her hand before she can leave. “We’re not done here.”
* * *
A week after the board dinner, I’m watching Bella across the Metropolitan Museum’s grand hall, trying not to show how much James Werner’s attention to her is pissing me off.
“Your girl’s quite the catch,” Victoria says, appearing at my elbow. “Werner hasn’t left her side all evening.”
I take a measured sip of whiskey. “Werner needs to back off.”
“Territorial, are we?”
If she only knew. Werner—smug bastard that he is—has been finding excuses to touch Bella’s arm and lean too close while examining artwork. Each time, her polite smile gets more strained.
“He’s being inappropriate,” I say carefully.
“He’s being Werner.” Victoria watches them with shrewd eyes. “Though I must say, your self-control is impressive. The Logan Fraser I knew would have already threatened to destroy his company.”
She’s not wrong. The old me would have already made some calls to ensure Werner never worked in tech again. But Bella doesn’t need my protection. She’s more than capable of handling herself.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as Werner guides her toward a private gallery wing.
“Excuse me,” I mutter to Victoria.
I find them in the modern art exhibit. Werner has Bella practically backed against a Rothko, his hand on the wall beside her head.
“—dinner tomorrow?” he’s saying. “I know this fantastic little place...”
“That’s very flattering,” Bella replies, her voice professional but tight. “But as I mentioned, I’m with?—”
“Logan Fraser?” Werner scoffs. “Please. Everyone knows that’s just for show. The board’s been pushing him to settle down for years.”
Something in me snaps. A sharp, visceral break, like a string pulled too tight and finally giving way. In that moment, all I see is red, and it's in the shape of an asshole getting too close to the girl I love. “Werner.”
He turns, casual as ever, one palm still resting above Bella’s head like he owns the wall and everything around it. That smug, overfamiliar grin has no idea what’s coming. “Fraser! We were just discussing?—”
“Remove your hand,” I say quietly, “before I remove it for you.”
The warning in my tone finally registers because he steps back. Slowly. Still trying to keep the upper hand, even as he loses it. “We’re just talking?—”
“I don’t care.”
He steps back, finally reading the threat in my voice. “No need to get worked up. Bella and I were simply?—”
“My girlfriend,” I cut him off, moving between them before I even think about it, “is not interested.”
I feel the word as I say it. Girlfriend. Not a decoy. Not an act. And God, it lands like truth in my mouth, truth that feels good to say out loud.
“Your girlfriend?” He smirks. “Come on, Fraser. We all know this relationship is just to please the board. The Logan Fraser I know doesn’t do commitment?—”
I step closer. “The Logan Fraser you know doesn’t exist anymore. And if you touch her one more time, I’ll ensure you never work in tech investment again.”
Werner balks at this, his easy swagger vanishing quickly as his pupils widen. “Are you threatening me?”
“Promising.” I smile, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “Now get out.”
He leaves, but not before shooting Bella one last look. “When you’re tired of playing this game with him, call me.”
I suppress the overwhelming urge to punch his back and turn to Bella because she needs me more right now. “Are you?—”
“I’m fine.” She straightens her dress. “I could have handled that.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?—”
“Because you’re mine.” The words land before I can edit them, and they hit me just as hard as they hit her. My voice is rougher than I meant it to be, my accent thick, the sound of it wrapping around what we both know. “And I’m tired of pretending that it’s just for show.”
“Logan...”
“I’ve watched other men look at you for years,” I admit, my voice hoarse with unrestrained intensity. “At every event Audrey dragged you to. Every corporate function.”
She shifts slightly, her lips parting, but I keep going because if I stop now, I won’t have the strength to say any of it. “But I stayed away because you were off-limits. Because I couldn’t risk?—”
“Risk what?”
“Falling for my sister’s best friend.” Here it is at last. The truth, laid bare between us. And now that I’ve spoken it, I realize the whole idea of fake dating might have been a way to guard my own heart. A lie I told myself to stay in control. A low sound catches in my throat, more hollow than amused, like laughter stripped of its purpose. As if I ever had control where Bella is concerned. As if I could ever be near her without wanting more.
“Again?” Bella looks utterly confused, her lips parted, cheeks rosy. God, she’s so beautiful it makes my heart hurt.
I exhale bitterly and drag both hands through my hair like it might slow the rush of thoughts careening inside me. My fingers clench behind my neck, and I have to pace a step away from her just to breathe.
God, this is harder than any negotiation I’ve ever sat through. Harder than any deal, any loss, any win. Because this is her , and she’s looking at me like she wants the truth. The real one. Not the performance I’ve perfected.
I stop in front of the window, watching the city blur behind the glass. The lights mean nothing right now. None of it does.
“Why do you think I avoided you after we kissed at that graduation party? It wasn’t because you insulted me with Shakespeare. It was because you saw right through me, and I couldn’t...”
Her question is a whisper, as if she can hardly believe what I’m saying. “Couldn’t what?”
“Couldn’t risk wanting something real.” I meet her eyes, fully now. No shields. No charm.
“Someone real.”
“Logan, are you sure about what you’re talking about?” Her eyes are fixed on mine, wide and unreadable at first, like she’s trying to catch up to the moment. Her mouth is still slightly open, and her brows knit in that subtle, almost involuntary way she gets when she’s trying not to feel too much all at once.
I trace her jaw with my thumb. My hand lingers, barely grazing her skin. “I am. I’m done pretending.”
“Logan,” she warns but doesn’t pull away. Her breath hitches, just slightly, but it’s enough. I see it in the way her lashes lower, in the way her lips part like she’s already imagining what would happen if we were alone. Her body doesn’t move, but everything about her is strung tight, wound up, as if the slightest nudge would send us both unraveling. “We’re at a charity event.”
“I don’t care.”
My eyes drop to her mouth and all I can think about is how badly I want to taste her again. My fingers slide to the back of her neck, into her hair.
Her laugh is shaky. “You’ve worked too hard to?—”
I shake my head, feverish in my urge to get the words out. “None of it matters if I can’t have you.” The words surprise us both. “Not just for show. Not just for the board. All of it. The good morning coffees, the late-night conversations, the way you challenge everything I think I know...” Besides, they’re probably eating up the public display.
She grabs my tie and pulls me down to her level. “Take me home.”