Emma slamd her apartnt door shut behind her and tossed her phone onto the kitchen counter. Henry locked the door behind them, scanning the room automatically. She was already pacing.
"I need you to help make a few calls," she said without looking back.
Henry folded his arms. "Tell what you need."
Within minutes, Emma had lined up a small crew... trustworthy people from the shadows of the corporate world who owed her favors. Everything had to be tight, quiet, and fast.
An hour later, they stepped out again. The black sedan a block down remained unnoticed. Inside, Alex Adams’s assistant kept her eyes trained on the pair.
Emma’s earlier request had paid off... the jewelry store lights flicked on just as they arrived. The doors unlocked only for them. Inside, Emma and Henry scanned rows of rings, ignoring the weight of what they were doing until they paused at one particular band... simple, elegant, but powerful enough to scream one word: married.
"This is perfect for Jean, don’t you think?"
Henry nodded, "Yes and this is for Mr Kingsley... but I feel bad, they aren’t even selecting the rings for each other."
Emma didn’t reply as she herself agrees with him. "Actions according to situations, Henry. Nothing we can do here other than going along with it. And I know sohow it’s not a wrong decision."
"But it could be worse."
Outside, the assistant frowned. She couldn’t see what was going on, but she knew the pattern wasn’t random.
Then ca the next stop... a boutique designer clothing store, usually shut at this hour. The doors clicked open after a quick flash of Emma’s ID and a whispered na on the intercom.
In the shadows, the assistant clenched her phone. She tapped a ssage, to her boss.
— Emma went ho. Then a jewelry store. Now at a designer boutique. All along accompanied by Henry Sullivan... Logan Kingsley’s personal assistant.
The silence that followed was long in the car when suddenly she saw him calling.
Alex’s voice, colder than steel... "She’s lost her damn mind."
He didn’t say it, but the truth gnawed at him. Jean was doing sothing reckless. Sothing permanent. And sohow, this all traced back to him. To that one mistake. That one push went too far.
"I don’t care what it takes," Alex hissed. "Keep following them. I want to know the second they stop. If Jean is where I think she is going... I’ll drag her back myself and throw her at Tyler’s feet. This ti, she won’t get away."
He hung up.
The assistant leaned back in her seat, never letting her eyes off the store entrance.
Jean Adams had finally grown a spine and Alex Adams was preparing to break it.
___________________________
A piercing scream jolted Jean upright from the bed.
"Oh my God! It’s Jean Adams, Mom!"
Her temples throbbed, her vision swam, and her head felt like soone had lit a bonfire behind her eyes. She winced, clutching her head as the voice rang again.
"In Logan’s bed... are you kidding ?!"
Standing in front of her, mouths agape, were Hannah Kingsley and Martha Kingsley, both frozen in shock. Hannah looked one breath away from exploding, and Martha had her hand over her heart as if she might faint.
"What are you doing here?! In Logan’s room?! Where is Logan?" Martha’s voice pitched higher.
Jean blinked rapidly, still trying to separate dream from reality. "What...?"
Before she could finish, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway. Logan appeared, slightly out of breath, a coffee mug in one hand and a pack of aspirin in the other. He froze when he saw his family.
"Oh, great," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Just what I needed first thing in the morning."
Hannah spun toward him. "Is there sothing you’d like to share with the class, big brother? Why is Jean Adams in your bed?"
"She’s not in my bed... okay, technically, she is, but... can we not do this at 8 in the morning?"
Martha raised her hand. "Don’t talk back to your sister. And explain. Now."
Jean, still curled up with the blanket pulled awkwardly over her, mumbled, "This isn’t what it looks like..."
"Oh, really?" Hannah snapped. "Because it looks like the headline of a scandal."
Logan sighed, stepped forward, and handed Jean the aspirin. "Take this. You’re hungover and you’re about to be interrogated by won who love to interfere with others’ business, especially with ."
Jean took the pills wordlessly, eyes flicking between the two Kingsley won still fuming.
Martha narrowed her eyes. "Is there sothing going on between you two?"
Logan didn’t respond imdiately. He looked down at Jean. She was silent but her expression, though pale and hungover, was composed.
He turned to his mother and said, "Yeah. There’s sothing going on. But you’ll find out soon enough."
And with that, the bomb was planted.
____________________________
Martha had insisted they all gather in the dining room, despite the awkwardness still thick in the air. A full breakfast spread had been laid out... olets, toast, fruit, and coffee but no one touched anything.
Jean sat at the edge of her seat, a mug of coffee clutched between her hands, trying not to wince with every movent.
Hannah leaned forward, her eyes sharp as razors. "So let get this straight... you two were drinking in the middle of the night, alone, and you just fell asleep in the sa room? You expect us to believe that?"
Jean opened her mouth, but Logan beat her to it.
"Yes," he said flatly. "And don’t give that look, Hannah. She was drunk, I brought her a blanket, and that’s the end of the story." Logan lied... he knows he has to in front of his family. Last night they did not sleep on the sa bed.
Jean gave him a glance, did Logan really sleep on the sa bed with her?
Martha folded her arms. "You were always good at lying with a straight face, Logan."
"And you were always good at jumping to conclusions," he snapped back, then imdiately sighed. "Look, there’s more to this than you think. But you’ll know everything soon enough."
"Soon enough?" Hannah echoed with a bitter laugh. "So you’re saying there is sothing going on."
Jean finally spoke, her voice hoarse but calm. "We’ll explain it when the ti is right."
Martha opened her mouth to press further but just then, the door swung open.
Emma strode in, radiant and determined, with Henry behind her carrying a small case and a designer garnt bag. "Morning, bride and groom," she said sweetly. "Hope we’re not late for the wedding to get started ..."
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