27. Serena
27
SERENA
I can’t stop replaying it in my head—the way Chaz loomed over me, the smirk on his face as he cornered me in my own shop like I was nothing more than a chess piece he was determined to sweep off the board. It’s been hours, but the adrenaline still thrums through my veins, my heart beats too fast, and my mind keeps circling back to the same question:
How could this happen? Chaz’s words, his threats, they’re all I can think about. And Logan’s family… how much of it was just him, and how much was them?
I lean against the counter, my palms pressed hard into the cool granite, trying to ground myself. I can still feel Chaz’s presence, like a stain in the air. My hands are shaking, and I hate that I can’t just shrug it off. I’ve dealt with men like him before, but this… this is different. He’s Logan’s brother, which makes it feel personal, like a betrayal by proxy.
Logan’s voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts. He’s talking to his parents outside, and even through the door, I can hear his fury. I know he’s on my side. I know he’s trying to protect me. But I can’t help wondering how deep this goes.
Are they all like this?
Logan’s family—their entitlement, their arrogance—it’s something I’ve always known was there, but this is a new low.
If I stay with Logan, will I always have to fend off their drama and chaos just to exist in his world?
That’s not a life I want to live.
And then there’s Logan. He’s been perfect—supportive, attentive, everything I thought I wanted. But now, all I see are the similarities. The brothers don’t look alike, but they have the same confident stance and swagger. They are equally entitled.
Are they really that different?
Has Logan ever used his position and name to intimidate someone the way Chaz tried to intimidate me?
Has he ever propositioned a woman and tried to use his power to get what he wanted?
The thought makes me feel sick, and I push it away. No. Logan isn’t like that. He wouldn’t hurt me. He’s never once made me feel small or powerless. But now, with everything that’s happened, I can’t help but wonder how much I really know him. How much of what we have is real, and how much is just the fantasy I’ve built around him?
The broken bell above the door now gives a tinny clang, and Logan walks back in, looking shaken but determined. He’s trying to smile and reassure me, but I can’t meet his eyes. I don’t know how to face him right now, not when all I can see is Chaz’s shadow hanging over us.
“You okay?” Logan asks softly. He reaches out, and I flinch before I can stop myself. Logan’s hand pauses midair, and he looks at me, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Serena?”
I force a nod, swallowing back the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… still processing, I guess.”
Logan takes a step closer, but I back away, my stomach twisting with guilt and confusion. I don’t want to be afraid of him, but I need space. I need to figure this out on my own. Logan notices, his expression tightening with concern. “Serena, I promise you, I didn’t know Chaz would pull something like this. I would’ve stopped him.”
“I know,” I say quickly, but my voice sounds unconvincing, even to my own ears. I want to believe him, and I do, but I can’t turn away the whispering doubts.
Logan sighs, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of everything is finally catching up to him. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight. We can get away from all this for a little while. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
The offer is sweet, but it feels like too much right now. Being around Logan feels like a constant reminder of what just happened, and I don’t know if I can keep pretending like everything's okay. “I appreciate it, Logan. I really do. But I’m not feeling up to it tonight. I’ve got this headache, and I just… I think I need to sleep it off. Alone.”
I see the disappointment flicker in his eyes, and I hate myself a little for putting it there. But I need this. I need some time to sort through my emotions without him hovering over me, waiting for me to be okay. He nods, trying to hide the hurt. “Yeah, of course. If you need anything, just call me, okay?”
I give him a small, forced smile, nodding. “I will.”
He watches me for a moment longer as if he wants to say something else, but he holds back. Instead, he just presses a quick kiss to my forehead and leaves, and the second he’s gone, the shop feels even more empty. I let out a shaky breath and lock up for the night with trembling hands.
When I get home, the silence is overwhelming. I kick off my shoes, toss my keys onto the kitchen counter, and sink onto the couch, pulling my knees up to my chest. My phone buzzes, and I glance at it, surprised to see Emily’s name flashing on the screen. I hesitate for a moment, then swipe to answer.
“Hey, Em,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “What’s up?”
Her voice is bright, almost too cheerful, and I can tell she’s calling with news. “Hey, sis! Guess what? I just got off the phone with Levy. You’re not going to believe this, but you don’t have to vacate the shop anymore. The sale fell through. He said you can stay in the building.”
I sit up, my heart skipping a beat. Relief floods through me, but I’m still wary. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Apparently, the buyers backed out at the last minute. So you’re safe. For now, anyway.”
I close my eyes, exhaling slowly as I let the news sink in. “That’s… that’s incredible. I can’t believe it. I thought for sure I’d have to find a new place.”
“Yeah, me too,” she admits. “But hey, it’s great news, right?”
“It is,” I say, though my voice doesn’t match the words. There’s still a lingering unease I can’t quite shake.
The sale didn’t go through, but what about next time?
What happens the next time Logan’s family decides to pull something like this?
Will they always come for me, trying to push me out and make me disappear because they don’t think I’m good enough?
Emily must hear the hesitation in my voice because her tone softens. “Serena, what’s going on? You sound… off.”
I hesitate, biting my lip. I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling or how to put into words the fear that’s settled in my chest since Chaz walked into my shop. But Emily’s my sister. She’s always been there for me, and right now, I need someone who understands.
“Chaz came to the shop today,” I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “He cornered me. Tried to make some deals. He’s so disgusting. He said that if I did him a favor, he would extend my time in the store and then made some douchebag comment about hearing I was good on my knees. When I told him to leave, he told me to stay away from Logan, and when I refused, he threatened me. It was… it was bad, Em.”
There’s a stunned silence on the other end, and when Emily speaks, her voice is laced with anger. “What? That’s insane, Serena. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”
“He did, but…not like that,” I say quickly, but the memory of him looming over me, his eyes cold and calculating, is still fresh in my mind. “But it was close enough. He tried to scare me into walking away from Logan, and now I don’t even know what to think. Logan’s been great, but they’re brothers, you know? And I keep wondering… what if Logan’s not as different from Chaz as I thought?”
Emily is quiet for a moment, and when she speaks, her voice is firm but gentle, like she’s trying to steer me back from the edge. “Serena, listen to me. Chaz is an asshole. We both know that. But Logan… Logan’s not Chaz. He’s never been Chaz. You can’t let one bad apple ruin what you’ve got with him.”
“But what if I’m wrong?” I say, my voice breaking. “What if Logan’s just like them, and I’ve been too blinded to see it? I don’t want to get hurt, Em. I can’t handle that right now.”
She sighs, and I can practically hear her thinking through the phone. “I get it, Serena. I really do. But you can’t let Chaz’s actions define Logan. You’ve seen how Logan treats you, how he respects you. He’s not perfect, and yeah, he comes from a messed-up family, but you have to trust what you know about him, not what his brother did.”
I lean back, letting her words wash over me. She’s right. I know she’s right. Logan has never given me a reason to doubt him, and I don’t want to start now just because Chaz is a nightmare.
“It’s just hard,” I admit, my voice small. “I want to trust him, but today just threw me off balance.”
“And that’s okay,” she says softly. “It’s okay to be shaken up. Just don’t shut Logan out because of what his brother did. Talk to him. Tell him how you’re feeling. Logan deserves that, and so do you.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me, and I feel a little lighter knowing she’s in my corner. “Thanks, Em. I needed to hear that.”
“Anytime,” she says, her tone brightening. “And hey, remember, you’re stronger than any of them. Don’t let a bunch of entitled jerks mess with your head. You’ve got this, Serena.”
I smile, the first real one I’ve managed all day. “Yeah. I’ve got this.”
We hang up, and I sit there for a while, staring at my phone and letting everything sink in. I’m still scared, unsure of what will happen next, but I know one thing for sure: I’m not going to let Chaz or anyone else dictate how I live my life. And as for Logan… he will have to prove to me that he’s different, that he’s not like his family. But I’m willing to give him that chance.
The morning sun is still climbing, its rays slicing through the early autumn chill as I make my way to the shop. I barely slept last night—tossing and turning with every thought of Chaz’s threats, Logan’s worried face, and the sinking feeling that maybe I’m in over my head with all of this.
But today’s a new day, and there’s work to do. I have to get this shop back in order now that I’m not moving, and the thought of unpacking all those boxes feels like trying to climb a mountain barefoot.
I have my key in the front door when I hear footsteps behind me. I turn, and my breath catches. Logan is standing there, looking completely scruffy in gray sweatpants, a plain white T-shirt, and running shoes. His hair is messier than usual like he’s been up for hours and didn’t bother to do his usual CEO prep routine.
In his hands, he’s holding two steaming cups of coffee and a white paper bag that smells like fresh pastries. My stomach growls, and my heart does a weird little flip at the sight of him.
I cock an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “What’s with the casual look? Did the office have a sweatpants day I didn’t know about?”
He grins—that easy, heart-stopping smile that makes me forget all the reasons I was mad at the world just moments ago. He looks almost boyish, completely disarmed, and it’s a side of him I don’t see nearly enough. “Nope. I took the day off.”
I blink at him, taken aback. “ You took the day off? You ? Mr. Workaholic, who can’t go ten minutes without checking his email?”
“Yep,” he says, handing me a cup of coffee. “And for the record, I haven’t checked my email once this morning. I’m a changed man.”
I take the coffee, still confused but undeniably touched. “Okay, but… why?”
He shrugs, trying to play it cool, but there’s something mischievous in his eyes. “Thought I’d help you unpack the store. Brant told me you were staying, so I figured you might need a hand.”
My heart melts a little at that. It’s not just that he’s here—it’s that he’s here without asking, without making a big deal about it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to drop everything and come help me.
“You took the day off just to help me unpack?” I ask, my voice softening. “Logan, you didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugs again. “I wanted to. Plus, I’ve got a reputation to maintain, you know? Can’t have my fiancé lifting heavy boxes all by herself.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “I’m not exactly your fiancé, Logan.”
“Not yet,” he says with a wink, and I feel my cheeks heat up. He hands me the bag of pastries, and the smell of cinnamon and butter makes my stomach growl louder. I suddenly realize how little I’ve eaten since yesterday. “Breakfast is on me. Figured you could use the fuel.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling strangely shy as I take the bag. Logan’s looking at me with that same mix of confidence and softness that always makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when he’s around. It’s overwhelming, in the best way.
I finish unlocking the door, and we step inside the shop together. Everything’s a mess—boxes are piled up everywhere. Unpacked displays are scattered around like someone’s half-hearted attempt at decorating a disaster zone.
My shoulders sag at the sight, and all the anxiety I’ve been holding back rushes back in. There’s so much to do, and I don’t even know where to begin.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ve got all day to get this sorted.” He sets down his coffee and starts looking around like he’s assessing a project, ready to dive in.
I take a deep breath and force myself to push past the embarrassment. “It’s just… There's so much stuff. I’ve been putting off unpacking because I didn’t know if I was staying, and now I feel like I don’t even know where anything goes anymore. And honestly, my inventory system is a mess. I’ve been doing everything manually, and I can’t keep up. I don’t know why I didn’t fix it sooner.”
Logan turns to me, his expression serious but understanding. “Do you need help with the inventory? I’m pretty good with numbers, you know.” He grins, but I can see the genuine offer behind it.
I let out a small, defeated laugh. “I could really use some help. I’ve got too much inventory and no real way to track what’s selling and what’s not. I’ve been meaning to set up a proper system, but it’s all so overwhelming. I’m really embarrassed to admit that.”
His eyes light up, and he looks like a kid at Christmas. “Oh my God, Serena, are you asking me if I can help you build an inventory system? Because that’s, like, my dream. I would love to set something up for you. I can build you something completely customized. We could track sales, inventory levels, customer preferences—whatever you want!”
I blink, a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. I’ve never seen him this excited about anything that didn’t involve his job or some high-stakes negotiation. “Really? You’d do that for me?”
“Are you kidding?” Logan’s practically bouncing on his feet now, his eyes sparkling excitedly. “This is exactly the kind of thing I love doing. I could set you up with software that’ll streamline everything. And if you want, I can even integrate it with your website for online orders and track your top-selling items in real-time.”
I laugh, shaking my head at how genuinely thrilled he looks. “Logan, it’s just a small shop, not a Fortune 500 company.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, undeterred. “A good system is a good system. And you deserve to have one that works for you. Trust me, I can make this happen.”
His excitement is contagious, and for the first time since this whole mess started, I feel a flicker of hope. Logan isn’t just offering to help me unpack boxes; he’s offering to make my life easier, to fix something that’s been weighing on me for months. And the best part? He’s doing it because he wants to.
“Okay,” I say, smiling. “Let’s do it. Show me what you’ve got, Mr. CEO.”
Logan gives me a mock salute, then grabs the first box and starts tearing into it with the enthusiasm of someone opening a present on Christmas morning. “Alright, first things first—we need to figure out what’s in these boxes. Once we know what we’re working with, we can start setting up an inventory list.”
I watch as he pulls out a stack of cake pops, sniffing one of them appreciatively before setting it on the counter. He’s so focused and determined to help, and it makes my chest warm. I start unpacking beside him, and it feels strangely comforting to have him here, shoulder to shoulder, helping me sort through the chaos.
We work together in a rhythm that feels natural, almost like we’ve done this a thousand times before. Logan moves quickly, setting up a system on his laptop that he brought along—God, of course, he brought a laptop—inputting each item as we unpack it.
I’ve never seen someone so excited about data entry in my life, but Logan’s in his element. He’s showing me how the software tracks each item, how I can add notes, and even set reminders when stock gets low. It’s honestly impressive, and I can’t help but be awed by him.
“How do you know all this stuff?” I ask, watching as he deftly navigates the software like it’s second nature.
Logan shrugs, glancing up at me with a smile. “I’ve been doing this kind of thing since college. My first business was all about streamlining inventory for local stores. You wouldn’t believe how much money people lose just because they don’t know what they have.”
“Well, I guess I’m lucky to have you then,” I say, half-teasing, half-serious. “You’re making me feel like I’ve been running this place all wrong.”
He stops typing and looks at me, his expression softening. “Hey, you’re doing great, Serena. You’ve built something amazing here, and you don’t need me or anyone else to tell you that. I’m just here to make things a little easier for you.”
His words hit me harder than I expected. It’s one thing to know someone loves you, but it’s another to have them show up for you like this, to roll up their sleeves and dive into your world without hesitation. I feel a rush of gratitude and something else—a deep, aching affection for this man who’s doing everything he can to make my life better, even in the smallest ways.
I smile, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Thank you, Logan. Really. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
He reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re welcome. And for the record, Serena… I’m really glad you’re staying. The city wouldn’t be the same without your shop.”
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Me too.”
We keep working, unpacking box after box, with Logan explaining his plans for organizing everything in a way that makes sense. As the hours pass, the shop starts to take shape again, and my anxiety slowly ebbs. I still have a lot to figure out, but with Logan by my side, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I can handle it.
By the time we’re done, it’s late afternoon, and we’re both covered in dust and sweat, but the shop looks better than it has in weeks. Logan sits back, surveying our handiwork with pride.
“Not bad,” he says, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “We make a pretty good team.”
I smile, feeling a deep contentment as I look around the shop. There’s still work to do, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a burden. It feels like a fresh start.
“Yeah,” I agree, leaning against the counter beside him. “We really do.”