Logan -The evening felt like one of those mandatory, soul-sucking events where I had to plaster a polite smile on my face and endure the pleasantries for the sake of business. The product launch party was in full swing, the room buzzing with executives, influencers, and a handful of journalists snapping photos.And then there she was: Paris Prescott, or rather Patty.She was poised, glowing under the bright lights, and every bit the picture-perfect model we needed for the campaign. The photographers loved her, their cameras clicking furiously as she posed with the product. I stood back, watching the show, a strange mixture of pride and unease settling in my chest.Once the press cleared out, leaving behind only the VIPs and the less enthusiastic staff, Patty spotted me. Her smile was wide, warm, and practiced. She approached with the grace of someone who knew how to own any room she walked into.“Logan,” she said, her voice smooth and familiar. “It’s been a long time.”I nodded, main
Isabella -I’m convinced there’s a special circle of hell reserved for awkward family dinners, and I was currently in the middle of it. The table was impeccably set—my mother’s way of showing off—but the atmosphere was anything but polished.It was me, my mother, my stepdad, and Logan. The Perfect Family. Except Logan and I were about as far from siblings as humanly possible.I kept my head low, staring at my plate like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Every so often, I dared a glance at Logan, only to find him perfectly composed, sipping his wine like this was a casual Tuesday night.Meanwhile, my mother was in full “Mom Mode,” harping on about how wonderful it was that Logan and I were “bonding so well as siblings.”I choked on my drink at that one, earning a sharp look from her. “Isabella, are you alright?”“Fine,” I wheezed, avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table.Sibling? Really? I wanted to gag. We were nothing like siblings. If my mother knew even half o
Isabella -“I wasn't expecting this view,” a throaty, deep masculine voice drawled from the bed.I shrieked, spun around, and instinctively covered my naked form with my arms.“It's a bit late for that, don’t you think?” Logan remarked dryly, cocking one arrogantly slashing eyebrow."What the hell are you doing here?" I screamed."Shhh! You will wake up the entire house." He jumped off the bed and stepped closer, his gaze intense.“What do you want?” I said desperately, a slightly hysterical note in my voice."I….," I just came here to check how you were settling down, but… I can see you're doing just fine," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes."I have to get dressed!" I whimpered."Well, there's nothing I have never seen before," he said with a smirk, making me blush furiously."Just get out, Logan," I said firmly, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach."I'll be waiting outside. Just let me know when you're ready," he said, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer be
He glanced at me, then away, his tone casual—but I could tell it was forced. “Yes, she was my girlfriend in high school, after all.”The words sliced through the air like a sharp blade. My stomach twisted involuntarily, and I immediately wished I hadn’t asked.“Oh,” I said, doing my best to sound indifferent. “Makes sense, I guess.”Logan rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “It’s not a big deal. We dated back then, and I thought... well, at the time, it felt right to share this place with her.”I nodded, taking another sip of my beer to give myself something to do. “Of course. High school sweethearts and all that.”He winced slightly, as if the term struck a nerve. “That was a long time ago, Isabella. Things change.”I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I mean, it’s not like I care. You don’t have to explain your teenage romance to me.”Logan tilted his head, watching me with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You are jealous."I almost choked on my beer. “Wha
Isabella's POV: High SchoolThe fluorescent lights of the cafeteria buzzed faintly. I was seated at my usual table near the back, surrounded by my friends, laughing over something trivial, when I saw him. Logan Sinclair.He walked past the row of tables. His laughter carried across the room, and my heart did its usual traitorous flip. I quickly looked down, pretending to be engrossed in the sandwich I wasn’t eating.“Caught you staring again,” my friend Elena teased, nudging me with her elbow.“I wasn’t staring,” I said quickly, though the heat rising to my cheeks betrayed me.“Oh, come on,” she said with a knowing smirk. “When are you finally going to tell Logan you like him?”My friends erupted into giggles, and I shook my head vehemently. “Never,” I said, laughing nervously. “Are you crazy? He’s way out of my league. Besides, he has a girlfriend, remember?”Elena rolled her eyes. “Patty Prescott? Please. That girl is so overrated. You’re way prettier than her, Isabella.”“Yeah,” ch
Isabella -I was engrossed in my work, sorting through reports and emails that needed my attention, when an unusual stir in the office caught my ear.A low murmur spread among the employees, followed by the unmistakable click of high heels on the polished floor. I glanced up, barely registering the commotion, when the figure appeared in my line of sight.She was poised, her stride confident, her designer coat draped effortlessly over her shoulders. Her hair was as perfect as I remembered, falling in sleek waves that framed her face like she had just stepped out of a magazine.Paris Prescott.For a moment, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. My fingers froze above the keyboard as if time itself had stalled. The girl from my high school nightmares was here, in my workplace, and looking every inch the polished professional I had once envied and feared.As if on cue, she turned toward me. Her sharp, assessing gaze scanned the room until it landed on mine.Our eyes locked.Recognition flick
Isabella -I stayed frozen just beyond the threshold of Logan’s office, my hand still resting on the doorknob.Paris turned her head toward me, her perfectly arched brow lifting slightly as if to say, What do you want now? Her lips curved into that infuriatingly smug smile, the same one she’d worn countless times in high school when she knew she had the upper hand.Logan, meanwhile, looked like someone had hit pause on him mid-breath. His tie was slightly askew, the loose knot a glaring detail in an otherwise pristine appearance. Paris’s hand lingered dangerously close to it, and though Logan had stepped back, the scene before me painted a clear picture.“I didn’t realize you were in the middle of something,” I said, my voice calm but edged with steel.Logan immediately shook off whatever trance he’d been in and straightened, his eyes locking onto mine. “Isabella,” he began, taking a step forward. “What’s wrong?”“Nothing,” I replied, lifting the folder in my hand. “Just bringing the
Isabella I arrived at my desk and sank into my chair, pressing my fingers against my temples to soothe the dull ache building in my forehead. I needed to focus—there were emails to answer, deadlines to meet—but my mind was stuck replaying everything.Before I could spiral further, my phone buzzed on the desk, its ringtone breaking through the haze of my thoughts. I picked it up instinctively, not bothering to check the caller ID.“Hello?”“It’s me,” Grace’s voice came through.“What do you want, Grace?” I said harshly.Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost hesitant. “I need to talk to you. Please.”“Why?” My tone had been sharper than I’d planned, but I didn’t care. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”She hesitated, and I could almost hear her gathering the courage to say what she needed. “I know things can’t go back to normal between us, but... I want to apologize, Isabella.”I’d let out a bitter laugh, the sound surprising even me. “I don’t need your apology, Gra
Isabella"I found your diary by accident," he continued. "Back in high school, the day in the library. You dropped it when... well, when Patty and I were being idiots."I flinched at the memory, my fingers digging into my arms."At first, I didn’t think much of it. I thought I’d give it back to you the next day. But you weren’t at school."I looked up sharply, and he met my eyes."I didn’t know what happened," he said softly. "I didn’t see you again after that day. I asked around and found out your grandfather had passed away. And... I don’t know. I guess I just assumed you needed space. Then school ended, and you were gone."His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of things left unsaid."I should’ve found a way to give it back," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "But instead, I kept it. And I read it."My heart twisted painfully. Hearing him confess to reading my most private thoughts felt like a violation all over again, but there was something raw and genuine in hi
Logan’s POV, 2016The air in the library was heavy with the mingling smells of old books and cheap disinfectant. The dim overhead lights gave everything a muted glow, the perfect cover for fooling around. Patty giggled as I pulled her closer, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders."Logan," she whispered, glancing around nervously, though her smile betrayed her excitement. Her skirt was hitched up and wrapped around my waist."Relax," I said with a smirk, leaning in to kiss her again.We were tucked away in the far corner, hidden behind rows of rarely borrowed encyclopedias. It was supposed to be a quiet, uneventful afternoon until I heard it—a soft shuffle, like someone had accidentally walked in on us. Patty stiffened, her head whipping around."Who’s there?" She demanded, her voice sharp and grating.From behind a shelf, a familiar face emerged—Isabella. She looked startled, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she clutched her books tightly against her chest."I’m sorry," s
IsabellaThe adrenaline was fading, leaving me shaky and light-headed. My knees buckled, and before I hit the ground, Logan caught me. His strong arms wrapped around me, holding me upright as I clung to him, my breath shallow.“Isabella, you’re bleeding,” he said, his voice filled with alarm.I touched my forehead, feeling a warm, sticky wetness. Pulling my hand back, I saw red smeared across my fingers. The sight made my stomach churn, but I shook my head.“I’m fine,” I managed, though my voice wavered.“Fine?” Logan repeated incredulously, his jaw tightening. “You’re bleeding, and you can barely stand. We’re going to the hospital.”“No,” I protested weakly. “It’s just a scratch. I don’t need a hospital.”Logan ignored me, his concerned gaze scanning my face. “You’re in shock. Let me—”“I said I’m fine,” I interrupted, my voice firmer this time. I straightened myself, though the effort made my head spin. “It’s nothing serious. Just... help me home.”Logan looked unconvinced, his lips
Unfinished BusinessIsabella -A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth before I could stop it. “Good for her,” I said, turning back toward the stairs.“Isabella, wait,” he called out, his voice sharper now.I ignored him, taking a step forward. But then I felt his hand on my arm, gripping it tightly.“Why did you tell her?” he demanded, his voice thick with accusation.I spun around, yanking my arm free. “Tell her what?”“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “You told her everything. About me, about us.”I laughed dryly, crossing my arms. “You mean about you cheating on me? And her? Please, Carl. Grace deserved to know the truth. You have no one to blame but yourself.”His face twisted with anger, his eyes narrowing. “You ruined my life,” he hissed, stepping closer.I glared at him, refusing to back down. “You ruined your own life. Maybe you should have thought about that before sleeping with both of us.”His expression darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might back off. But then his
Logan Paris’s apartment was as opulent as ever, with its pristine white walls, expansive glass windows, and a sweeping view of the ocean.She greeted me at the door, her expression bright and deceptively warm. "Logan," she purred, leaning in for an air kiss. "To what do I owe this surprise? You never drop by unannounced."I brushed past her into the living room, my jaw tight. "We need to talk."Her perfectly arched eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t miss a beat. She closed the door behind me and sauntered over to a plush armchair, gesturing for me to sit as if this were a casual visit."I’m all ears," she said, crossing her legs and giving me a practiced smile.I remained standing. "Did you get that article printed?"Her smile didn’t falter, but something flickered in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "Why would you think that?""Cut the act, Paris," I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. "You’ve been stirring the pot ever since Isabella started working at my company. Don’t think I haven
Logan -I sat at my desk, staring at the clock on the wall. The hands seemed frozen, mocking me with their refusal to move. Isabella wasn’t at the office today. I’d expected that much after last night. Hell, I probably would’ve done the same if I were in her shoes.The memory of her walking out still stung. Her tears, her anger, the slap—I deserved all of it. I’d screwed up. I knew it the moment I saw the diary in her hands. There was no way to explain, no excuse good enough to justify what I’d done.I rubbed my temples, willing the tension in my head to subside, but it clung to me like a shadow. I needed to fix this, but first, I had to give her space. Isabella wasn’t the kind of person you could pressure into a conversation. She’d come back when she was ready—if she ever wanted to hear me out at all.Just as I was about to dive into the mountain of emails piling up in my inbox, Derek walked in, holding his phone with a grim expression."You’ve got to see this," he said, sliding the
IsabellaI froze, staring at the worn leather cover with my name scrawled on it in silver ink. It was unmistakable. The corners were frayed from years of use, and the faint stain of spilled ink near the edge was exactly where I remembered it.What was this doing here?Slowly, as if compelled by an unseen force, I flipped it open.The familiar loops of my teenage handwriting stared back at me, messy and unrefined, but undeniably mine."January 12th. I saw Logan today in the hallway. The moment he looked at me, my heart felt as though it was about to burst. He appeared to be so serious. He’ll never notice me like that, though. He’s Patty’s boyfriend, and she’s perfect. Ugh, why am I even writing this?"My throat tightened, and I flipped further. Page after page, it was all there—my secrets, my insecurities, my dreams. The crush I thought I’d hidden so well.A lump formed in my throat as I pieced together the impossible truth. Logan had this diary. For how long? And why?My chest heaved
Isabella The silence in the car was deafening. Logan’s words still hung in the air, heavy with meaning and impossible to ignore. He loved me. He loved me. And for a brief, heart-stopping moment, I wanted to believe that we could make it work, that the world outside this car didn’t matter.But then reality came crashing back, as it always did.I pulled my hand from his, the warmth of his touch lingering even as I turned to face him. My heart was pounding, but I steadied myself, forcing my voice to remain calm. "Logan," I began, "we’ve been through this before. We can’t have a relationship."His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened, a flash of frustration crossing his face. "Why not?" he asked, his voice low but firm. "Why are you so determined to fight this, Isabella?""Because it’s not just about us," I said, gesturing vaguely at the world outside the car. "If we do this, it won’t just affect us, Logan. It’ll affect everything."He shook his head, his gaze never leaving mine. "I don
Isabella -The music shifted, becoming slower, more seductive. The soft rhythm of the song seemed to weave through the air, urging me to move."I am tired." I said to Trent.He stopped dancing, and I stepped onto the deck. I leaned against the railing, closing my eyes for a second to breathe in the salty air, trying to regain some clarity. But before I could settle into the moment, I heard the sound of footsteps behind me.“Leaving the party already?” Trent’s voice broke the silence, and I turned to see him standing a few feet away, his ever-present grin in place.“I just needed a break,” I said, forcing a smile as I adjusted my posture, hoping he wouldn’t push.He didn’t seem to take the hint. Instead, he moved closer, his eyes lingering on me a little too long. “I get it. Sometimes, all this”—he waved a hand toward the house—“can get a bit much, huh?” He stepped closer again, his tone lower now, more intimate. “But I’ve got to say, you look incredible tonight, Isabella.”“Thanks, Tr