#Chapter 79: Safehouse

Ella

In the dim lighting of my apartment, with the memory of spilt wine still fresh, Logan’s face wore an expression I hadn’t seen before—gentle persuasion edged with determination.

“Ella,” he began, his voice hushed yet demanding attention, “I understand that trust has become a rare commodity for you. But remember when you asked me to trust you? I did. I told you about my mother. Now, I’m asking you to do the same.”

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