"Josephine, you deserve an Oscar.. If you didn’t want everything to fall apart, why didn’t you just come clean back when it mattered? You’ve just been pining after Logan this whole time, haven’t you? I’m handing him over to you, so cut the bullcrap and stop parading your little act in front of me," Michelle said icily, yanking her hand away.

Josephine stumbled back a few steps, and Logan caught her right before she fell. "You okay?" he asked.

Michelle smirked to herself. How did she miss it before? The girl just came out of major surgery, and she still managed to fake this whole helpless act? Logan was really that naive?

"Logan, don’t worry about me. Just… get this sorted with Michelle. I never meant to come between you two," Josephine breathed, tears spilling down her cheeks, all soft and broken to tug at his heartstrings.

Michelle sank back against the pillows and turned her face away, but the next second Logan wrenched her right back up. His expression was ice cold, dark menace glinting in his eyes. "Apologize to Josephine."

"Apologize for what?" Michelle shot back, her glare never leaving his face. "I’m giving you full permission to be with her. Is that a crime now?"

Logan’s brows slammed down, his gaze cutting through her like a knife, like he wanted to rip her apart piece by piece. "Michelle, pushing my buttons won’t get you anywhere. Maybe you don’t care what happens to you anymore, but your grandma…"

Smack!

Michelle slapped him so hard her palm stung, fire blazing in her eyes. "Don’t you dare use my grandma as a bargaining chip. If you hurt her, I will never forgive you. Not ever."

You could cut the tension in the hospital room with a knife. Logan just stood there, frowning, frozen as he stared at her. When the hell had this woman gotten so goddamn defiant?

"Logan, are you okay? Does it hurt?" Josephine cooed, reaching out to cup his cheek all gentle and concerned, then spun back to Michelle, sharp and accusatory. "Michelle, how could you hit him?"

"We’re not even divorced yet, so this is none of your damn business," Michelle snapped, jabbing a finger at the door. "Get out right now, or I’m calling the cops."

"You’ve got some real guts, Michelle," Logan spat, then stormed out without a single look back.

Michelle watched Josephine linger by the door like she had more to say, and she huffed a dismissive breath. "Even if we do get divorced, you’ll never be Mrs. Harris. You really think Logan forgot about that little incident, huh?"

"Michelle!" All of Josephine’s fragile act dropped in a second, and she lunged for Michelle’s throat—until the door swung open wide.

Josephine wrenched her hand back so fast, shooting Michelle a venomous glare. "We’re not done," she hissed before marching out.

All the tension coiled in Michelle’s shoulders melted the second the door clicked shut. She curled up on the bed, staring blankly out the window, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "How could she ever think you could find real love in a business arrangement?"

Logan had been born with a severe heart condition. It had been stable for years, but a sick heart is still a sick heart—nothing is ever certain. The Harris family had stepped in when Michelle’s family was drowning in medical bills and desperate for help. Her parents couldn’t be saved, but at least they’d kept her grandma alive.

To pay back their kindness, she’d agreed to their terms. She’d spent years ready to step up whenever Logan needed her.

The door creaked open again, yanking Michelle out of her thoughts. A masked man walked straight toward her, his steps steady and purposeful.

"Who are you?" Michelle Harris gasped, yanking back on pure instinct. But before she could make another move, a stranger pressed a chloroform-soaked cloth hard over her nose and mouth.

"Help…" The word barely slipped past her lips before the world dissolved into blackness. When light finally pricked her eyelids again, she jolted awake, her brain spinning and disoriented.

The endless clicking of a camera echoed through the small room, shutter after shutter snapping photos of her. A man loomed over her, his greasy hands roaming where they shouldn’t. Adrenaline exploded through her veins. Michelle recoiled and shoved him away as hard as she could. "Get off me! Don’t you fucking touch me!"

Ignoring the searing pain shooting from the cuts on her body, she scrambled for the discarded clothes scattered at her side and yanked them on fast. Just as she finished, the door creaked open. "You done? Mr. Harris is waiting."

Michelle froze, cold dread creeping up her spine. Logan Harris?

"It’s finished. You can go now," the photographer said, to her shock.

Confusion and shock crashed over Michelle in waves. Had they only come here to take photos? Panic screamed at her to get dressed and run—who knew what worse things they had planned next. She didn’t need to be told twice.

Meanwhile, the man who’d assaulted her dialed a number. "Ms. Perkins? It’s done."

Josephine Perkins’ laughter trickled through the line, cold and sharp as a knife. "Excellent. Make sure those photos get delivered to her grandmother."

"Will do."

By the time Michelle had run blocks away, her legs burned enough to slow her down. That’s when her phone rang. She fumbled it out of her pocket and answered, breathless. It was Mrs. Wilson, her neighbor, her voice tight with worry. "Michelle, it’s Mrs. Wilson from next door. I heard strange noises coming from your house earlier, but when I knocked, your grandmother never answered. I have a bad feeling about this. You need to come home right now."

Ice shot through Michelle’s entire body. She mumbled a rushed reply and bolted for home, her heart hammering against her ribs. Frantic, she dialed her grandmother over and over again, but every call went straight to voicemail. A heavy, sickening dread settled deep in her gut.

Please, Grandma, be okay. Please be okay.

When Michelle burst through her front door, she found her grandmother lying motionless on the living room floor. "Grandma!" She sprinted to her side, fumbling for her phone to call an ambulance, that’s when she spotted it—a crumpled photo clutched tight in her grandmother’s limp hand. Michelle’s heart dropped straight through her feet. It was one of the photos from the attack.

The ambulance arrived minutes later. Her grandmother was raced straight to the ER, but it wasn’t long before a doctor stepped out, his expression soft and sorry. "I’m so sorry. We did everything we could…"

The words hit Michelle like a punch to the chest. She stumbled backward as her grandmother, covered head to toe in a plain white sheet, was wheeled out past her. She lunged forward, sobs tearing out of her throat. "Grandma, I didn’t do those things. Those photos are fake. Wake up. I need you. Please don’t leave me…"

Michelle’s cries were raw, tearing her throat apart, and the whole hospital corridor echoed with her heartbreak. Grief and shock crashed over her all at once. Her vision blurred at the edges, and she crumpled to the cold tile floor, unconscious before she even hit it.

Michelle Harris blinked awake, her mind slowly piecing together what happened right before she blacked out.

"Grandma!" she screamed, throwing off the covers and launching herself out of bed—only to slam straight into a solid chest.

The familiar scent flooded her senses, and tears spilled over before she could stop them. She dug her nails into the man’s arms, sobbing brokenly, "You happy now, Logan Harris? What the hell did I ever do to deserve this from you?"

Michelle’s sobs tugged at something raw in Logan. On instinct, he reached out to pull her close—but she slapped him so hard his head snapped to the side, her words sharp enough to cut: "I hate you!"

She left those words hanging thick in the air and bolted out of the hospital room. Logan’s jaw tightened, his face going dark as he watched her go. He must’ve been out of his mind to feel sorry for her two seconds ago.

He sighed and strode after her. But the second he stepped out of the hospital, he spotted a crowd clustered by the entrance, all craning their necks and pointing up at the roof. He followed their gazes, and there she was—that same familiar silhouette, teetering right on the edge of the rooftop.

What the hell is she playing at now? Even as he rolled his eyes at her stunt, his feet moved faster, urgency propelling him up the stairs.

Up on the roof, Michelle’s slim frame swayed in the wind, so close to tipping over that one wrong move would send her falling. Logan’s expression hardened as he stepped slowly, carefully toward her. "Michelle, you really think I give a damn if you do this?"

At the sound of his voice, Michelle turned slowly. Her lips tugged up into a cold, bitter smile. "Logan Harris, there’s only one thing left I owe you—and that’s my life."

Then, before Logan could even react, he watched her close her eyes and lean back.

"NO!"

He lunged forward and snatched her arm at the very last second. But his own momentum carried him over the edge too, leaving both of them dangling hundreds of feet above the ground. A collective gasp ripped through the crowd far below.

Michelle fought to yank herself free, tears pouring down her face. "I give up, Logan! Just let me go!"

Logan’s jaw clenched so hard his veins bulged at his temple. His grip burned like fire against her skin, hot enough to brand her, and he refused to loosen it even an inch.

"Michelle, you don’t get to check out until you’ve paid for what you did! This is just you trying to run from your guilt!" Logan shouted through gritted teeth.

Swaying in the sharp wind, Michelle suddenly laughed. Run from her guilt? She didn’t have any sins to atone for… not unless you counted loving Logan, the very thing that’d gotten her grandma killed.

With Michelle still fighting to pull free, Logan’s body slipped further over the edge, until he was dangling too. Luckily, security showed up just in time and hauled both of them back over the ledge.

Michelle laid flat on the concrete, sobbing so hard her whole body shook. "This is all you ever wanted, isn’t it? You just wanted me dead! I gave you what you wanted—so why won’t you just let me be free? Even in death?"

Logan’s chest twisted so hard it ached. He stepped forward without thinking, ready to pull this broken, fragile woman into his arms— but a hand grabbed him from behind before he could move. "Logan, are you hurt?"

Josephine Perkins’ sudden presence froze him mid-step. His icy stare melted into softness as he gave her a reassuring smile. "I’m okay."

When he looked back down at Michelle, she’d already been rushed off by the doctors.

He was about to go after her when Josephine slumped against his chest, murmuring, "Logan, I feel so dizzy…"

As he watched her being wheeled away, Logan ultimately didn’t go after Michelle.