All Chapters of Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Logan Reynolds I clench my fists, the tension crawling up my arms as I pace back and forth in the departure hall of O’Hare. The overhead announcements are low but all I can focus on is the time ticking away on my watch. 11:58 AM. Linda told me to be here at 11:30 sharp. I hate waiting. More than that, I hate uncertainty. She texted me earlier, said there was an emergency and that I should just wait here for her, but this is cutting it close. I exhale, running a hand through my hair, and take another glance toward the entrance. No sign of her. I pull out my phone, about to call her, when I hear the sound of heels clicking against the polished floor. I glance up and my stomach drops. It’s Viola. She walks toward me in a tailored navy dress that hugs her body in a way that’s completely inappropriate for a business trip and yet, somehow, I can’t look away. Her hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail, makeup flawless as always, but there’s something in her expression tha

Logan Reynolds I’m fuming. The second we step out of the bar, I drag Viola behind me. My fingers wrap tightly around her wrist. I don’t care if I’m gripping too hard. I don’t care if I’m walking too fast. I just need to get her the hell away from that place, from Cameron and from the insanity she just threw herself into. Why the fuck would she do that? The salty wind rolls around us. The sky is starting to darken, I think a storm is coming but I barely notice. All I can hear is the pounding of my pulse and the adrenaline still coursing hot through my veins. I turn around the second we reach the car, dropping her wrist. “What the fuck were you thinking?” My voice is rough.Viola stares at me, breathlessly. “I was trying to save you.” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “I can fucking save myself, Viola. You didn’t have to put your life on the line.” My voice cracks slightly, but I don’t care. My throat feels tight and my is chest heavy. “I’d die if someth

Viola McCoy I nod quickly, still trying to catch my breath. “Yeah. Just a dream.” Logan doesn’t move. He watches me for a second, then steps forward, placing a glass of water on the nightstand. “Here.” I hesitate before reaching for it. My fingers tremble slightly as I take a sip. Logan’s voice is softer now. “Bad dream?” I swallow. “Yeah.” He holds my gaze. Then, after a moment, he says, “You’re safe. Okay?” Something in his voice makes my chest tighten. I nod. “Okay.” He takes the glass back from me. “Think you’ll go back to sleep?” I glance at the clock. It’s late, but I already know sleep won’t come easy tonight. “I’m not sure.” Logan nods once. “Just lie down,” he says, moving back to the couch. I do. But instead of sleeping, I stare at the ceiling. After a few minutes, Logan speaks again. “What you did today… that was brave of you.” I blink, turning my head toward him. “Thank you for acknowledging that.” A small smirk plays on his lips. “I saw that

Viola McCoy My heart is pounding as I drag Julian towards the parking lot. For some reason, reality hasn’t hit me yet. The humiliation I just faced, the way my colleagues looked at me like I was pathetic. Not about the way Logan’s eyes burned with disappointment, like I was some kind of weak-willed idiot who kept running back to the man who humiliated her in front of an entire office. Maybe I am an idiot. Julian stumbles slightly as we reach the parking lot, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. His expensive cologne is drowned out by the sharp, bitter scent of whiskey. The moment we stop walking, he yanks his arm out of my grip, stumbling back a step. “You’re trying to protect your lover, huh?” His voice is thick. “You should’ve let him punch me.” I exhale. “You’re drunk.” “I’m not drunk,” he spits, but his sway says otherwise. I fold my arms across my chest, trying to contain my exhaustion, my anger, my need to scream at him until he feels the embarrassment I

Viola McCoyThe hum of the printer fills the office as it spits out copies onto the tray. I grab the last sheet and stack them neatly, smoothing out the edges with my palm before placing them on my desk. Logan has been out for days. The office feels too quiet without him, and I hate to admit that I’ve noticed. Only yesterday did I overhear that he was preparing for his mother’s memorial service. Today is the day. For the years we were together, this was always the hardest day for him. He’d shut down completely, withdraw, isolate, and drown in his own silence. I used to be the one pulling him out of it. The one who made sure he ate something, who forced him to leave his house even if it was just for a walk. I wonder if anyone is looking out for him now. “Are you done with the copies I asked you to make?” Linda’s voice jolts me back, snapping into my thoughts. She stands over my desk, arms crossed.I nod. “Yes, I’m done.” She glances at the stack of papers. “I guess you