The card had sat on her coffee table for hours.
Skylar stared at it like it might burst into flames. She’d made herself tea and never touched it. She’d paced the apartment until her legs ached. Each time, her eyes always drifted back to it.
Logan King.
A name sharp enough to slice. A man who had spoken as though her ruin was a foregone conclusion and her revenge a path he could pave.
Her mind raced with questions she couldn’t answer. Why help her? What did he gain? Did he hate Henry as much as she did, or was she just a pawn in some larger game?
But one thing was undeniable—Logan was powerful. The press that had hounded her all day was gone within minutes of his arrival. She’d seen the emptiness with her own eyes. That kind of influence wasn’t luck.
And Henry… Henry was nothing compa
