CHAPTER 3

Logan’s POV

“She’s serious this time, Logan,” my assistant Owen’s voice broke the silence in my office. 

I glanced up from the sleek marble desk in front of me. My office reflected the success I had built—a blend of modern luxury and understated power, just like the brands I controlled.

“Isla always says things she doesn’t mean,” I replied, leaning back in my chair, my fingers tapping the armrest. Isla was emotional, driven by fleeting impulses. 

She'll come around. She always does. 

Owen didn’t look convinced. “She might not be bluffing this time, sir.”

I let out a sigh, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Owen, relax. Isla’s just upset. She’s just getting better at putting up a front. She’ll eventually cool off.”

“Perhaps,” my assistant said, but he didn’t look convinced. 

I leaned back on my chair thoughtfully, thinking about the past. “She always wanted a family—her grandfather drilled that into her head. Henry’s probably telling her right now how I’m the only one who can give her that.” I found myself smiling. Henry had always admired me. He respected my success, saw me as the ideal man for his granddaughter. “We’ll work it out. I know how she thinks.”

Owen stayed silent for a moment, studying me like he always did. “You might want to reconsider,” he finally said, carefully choosing his words. “The situation’s different this time. She seems ready to move on, even if she may still have feelings for you.” 

“Move on? She has no idea what she’s talking about. Isla's just caught up in emotions. She always was... fragile like that.”

It was true. When we first got married, there had been moments—moments when I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. We had fun in the beginning, laughing over expensive dinners, traveling to places most people only dreamed of, attending business events together. But it was never real. Our marriage was a merger, arranged to strengthen the wealth and power of both our families. And eventually, the novelty wore off. I wanted more—more excitement, more freedom. Isla just didn’t fit into that anymore.

“Do you think Henry’s going to let her throw everything away? He knows I’m the best option for her,” I added, more for myself than for Owen.

“Henry loves Isla, but that’s not going to stop her if she’s made up her mind. And it seems like she has.”

I frowned, my mind drifting back to Isla. She wanted a family, that much I knew. The way she used to talk about kids, her face lighting up whenever her grandfather hinted at it. She had this fantasy before that we’d settle down, have children, be some perfect picture of domestic bliss. But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t interested in being tied down with one woman, let alone children.

Now, though, maybe... Maybe I should’ve handled things differently.

I had clearly hurt her a lot. Looking back, I could see how she had changed, how that light in her had dimmed when she realized I wasn’t the husband she hoped for. 

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. "Maybe I need to—"

“Make amends?” Owen finished for me, raising an eyebrow.

I shot him a look. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Okay, sir,” he replied, his voice dry with just a hint of amusement.

I ignored him, my thoughts drifting back to Isla. Maybe I did need to make things right—at least in my own way. 

I waved Owen off, signaling I needed some quiet. “That’ll be all for now. I’ve got work to do,” I muttered.

Owen didn’t argue. “Alright, sir. Call if you need anything.” And he was gone. 

I wasn’t really going to get any work done. I knew that. I sat there, staring at the spreadsheet on the screen, but all I could see was Isla—how she had appeared when we’d sat down together to sign the divorce papers.

God, she’d been weirdly calm! It was so unlike her. It’s like she just didn’t give a damn anymore. 

Maybe I needed to try and patch things up. But for what? For not living up to her fairy-tale idea of what marriage should be? For being the kind of man who wanted more than what she could offer? I rubbed a hand over my jaw, trying to push the idea away. I didn’t owe her anything. Still, there was a nagging feeling I couldn’t shake off.

Before I knew it, I was dialing her number. I needed to hear her voice. The ringing seemed to go on forever before Isla finally picked up.

“Logan,” she answered, her voice flat, like she was already tired of the conversation.

“Isla, I just wanted to remind you,” I began, trying to sound casual, “about the mansion. You know it’s under your name. You can stay there indefinitely. I figured you might need a place to... think things over.”

There was a long pause on the other end, then her voice came through, sharp and pointed. “I’ve already moved back to my old place. You know that. I don’t need your mansion, Logan. And I don’t need time to think things over.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone. 

I leaned forward, gripping the phone tighter. “I’m just trying to help, Isla. It’s a gesture of goodwill.”

“Goodwill?” she repeated, and I could practically hear the smirk forming on her lips. “Logan, the only thing you’ve ever wanted is your freedom. I’m giving you exactly that. You’re welcome.”

My temper flared. The audacity. She was making me out to be some sort of villain, like I hadn’t given her anything over the years. Like I was the only one to blame for how things turned out.

“Don’t pretend like you know what I want,” I snapped, my voice rising. “You never understood me, Isla. You always believed in that ridiculous idea of love—like it could solve everything.”

Did I ever love her, though? I’m not sure. The mere concept of love gave me the creeps. For me, it just isn’t realistic and practical. 

I was ready to hang up, but then I heard her voice again, calm, almost... resigned.

“I’ll be finally free,” she whispered with a sigh. 

Her words hit me harder than I expected. Free. From me. 

“You think you’re free now?” I shot back, my voice cold. “You’re wrong. You’ll come back, Isla. You always do. I know you too well.”

She didn’t respond right away. For a moment, I felt... defeated. But then, as quickly as the feeling came, I pushed it aside. Isla had always been overly suspicious, always reading too much into things. She was the one who made being her husband exhausting, not me.

I took a deep breath. “Look, I’ll honor your decision. If this is what you want, I won’t stand in your way. But just… call me or Owen if I’m not available, once you come to terms with reality.” 

There was no response. The line went dead, and I stared at the phone in my hand, the silence in the room growing louder. 

Suddenly, before I could even begin to collect myself, my phone buzzed again, pulling me out of my thoughts. Cherry’s name flashed on the screen. Now there’s a woman who always makes me smile.

I hesitated for a second before answering. “Cherry.”

“Logan,” her voice was smooth, with that familiar hint of playfulness. “Are you aware that there’s a dinner party tomorrow being hosted by Mr. Holland? We should go together.”

I leaned back in my chair, glancing out at the city skyline. I wasn’t in the mood for social events, but then a thought struck me. Isla had always been suspicious of Cherry, reading too much into our interactions. I wouldn’t blame her, though. Cherry’s been our employee for some time now, and we just instantly hit it off the moment we had a chance to work together. She’s young, fun, and super hot. 

Isla’s jealousy had been obvious, even if she tried to hide it. Maybe… maybe this could work to my advantage.

“Dinner party, huh?” I said, my tone shifting. “Who’s going to be there?”

“All our important business associates,” Cherry replied. “And you know Mr. Holland loves hosting parties for his favorite people, including friends in the media.” 

I smiled to myself. Maybe showing up with Cherry would irritate Isla enough to make her rethink things. Push her the way I needed her to be pushed.

“I’ll be there,” I said, already imagining the look on Isla’s face when she found out.

Cherry’s laugh was soft, almost teasing. “I’m looking forward to it.”

If there was one thing I knew about Isla, it was how much she hated seeing me with someone else. This might just be the nudge she needed to come back.

And when she did, I’d be waiting.