Fear prickled over my skin. Was this a real article? It had to be, or Logan wouldn’t have shown me. That email said it wouldn’t be printed until tomorrow, so I could breathe for a few more hours. But what would happen if this information was to be made public?
“Logan…” I wobbled, feeling a little faint.
Logan immediately stood from his chair and, just like in the photo, placed his hand to the small of my back. It was like a reflex for him.
“Here,” he said. “Sit in my chair.”
Nodding, I slumped down on his offered chair. It was comfortable leather, warmed from his body heat.
I covered my face with my hands. “What are we going to do?”
“I will make this go away,” Logan said, with an eerie kind of cool confidence.
Peeking up at him from between my fingers, I asked, “How?”
“Money.”
I b
