Hiding His Twins From The Underboss

Addison POV

The Logan Estate was less a home and more a fortress of stone and glass, perched precariously on the edge of a cliff.

It was cold.

Imposing.

Just like the man who owned it.

I was sequestered in the guest quarters, trying to make sense of the medical files Bernard had forced upon me.

Suddenly, the door flew open with a violence that made me jump.

Evelin stood there, framed by the doorway.

She looked deranged, her chest heaving.

"What is she doing here?" she shrieked, her voice cracking.

She spun around to face Bernard, who was lingering in the hallway like a dark shadow.

"You brought the help into our home?" she screamed.

"She is on call," Bernard said, his voice maddeningly calm. "You said you had anxiety. You needed monitoring."

"I don't want her here!" Evelin yelled, pointing a trembling finger at me. "She smells like poverty."

Bernard looked at me.

His face was an impenetrable mask.

"Get out," he said.

Just like that.

"It is freezing outside," I argued, my voice shaking. "It is a five-mile walk to the main road."

"I don't care," Evelin spat.

Bernard didn't even blink. He signaled to two of his guards.

"Escort her off the property," he commanded.

The guards seized my arms.

They weren't gentle.

They dragged me down the polished marble hallway, my heels skidding uselessly against the floor.

I looked back at Bernard one last time.

He was lighting a cigarette, the flame illuminating the sharp angles of his face.

He didn't watch me leave.

They threw me out the front gate like a bag of refuse.

I landed hard on the asphalt.

My knees scraped against the grit, tearing skin.

The cold air bit into my flesh like a thousand needles.

I pushed myself up and started walking.

Every step was a painful reminder.

Ben—the man I thought I knew—would have carried me through the snow.

Bernard threw me into it.

I walked for what felt like an eternity, losing sensation in my toes, before a black SUV pulled up slowly beside me.

The window rolled down with a soft hum.

"Get in," Bernard said.

I kept walking, staring straight ahead.

"Get in, Addison, or I drag you in."

I stopped.

I got in.

I had no fight left in me.

"We are going to the St. Regis," he announced, staring at the road. "Evelin has a gala tonight. She needs you to calm her nerves."

"I am not her servant," I whispered.

"You are whatever I say you are," he replied coldly.

At the hotel, he left me in the hallway outside the master suite.

The heavy door hadn't latched completely; it stood slightly ajar.

I heard voices drifting out.

"Bernard," Evelin said. Her voice was low, laced with suspicion. "Why is she really here? Did you sleep with her?"

I held my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Bernard laughed.

It was a cruel, hollow sound.

"She was a nurse, Evelin," he said dismissively. "I was high on painkillers for two years. I don't even remember her face half the time."

"But you were intimate?" Evelin pressed.

I heard the sharp clink of ice hitting a glass.

"I was drugged," Bernard said effortlessly. "It was a mistake. A hallucination. It meant nothing to my honor. And it meant nothing to me."

My heart shattered into dust.

He was rewriting our history.

He was turning our love into a drug-induced error just to save face with a mafia princess.

"You can punish her if you want," Bernard added, his tone bored. "As long as she stays close. I need to keep an eye on her."

"Why?" Evelin asked.

"Because she knows too much," he said.

I slid down the wall, unable to stand.

I buried my face in my hands to stifle a sob.

I had to get the music box.

I had to get it and run.

If I stayed, he would destroy me.