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A hardened expression formed over Claudette Berger's beautiful face as she watched a younger woman walk inside the daycare center with a chubby toddler in her arms. The kid seemed intent on talking her ears off, and the woman's laugh actually sounded genuine as she listened to whatever gibberish the little boy had to say.
What a gold-digging little whore, Claudette thought furiously as she spun on her heels and headed back to the elevator. Having seen the numerous photos taken by Logan's employees, all of which showed the hussy shamelessly using the billionaire's nephew to play up to him, Claudette had taken her chances by making a detour at the 10th floor.
It was where all employee amenities were located, and after a few minutes of waiting, her intuition had once again proven correct when she saw the bitch coming out of the elevator with the billionaire's nephew in tow.
The woman had been nothing like Logan's usual taste at all. Short, unsophisticated, and such crudely large breasts. The woman didn't even have the right hair color, for fuck's sake. So why did all the photos currently blowing up a viral storm in San Antonio show the billionaire looking at the bitch like she had just become his favorite dish?
She had been the billionaire's lover once, and not only that, but their relationship had also lasted the longest compared to all his other mistresses.
And yet he had never looked at her that way.
Never!
Although the thought was more than enough to make Claudette want to claw the other woman's eyes out, her cold-blooded streak of ruthless practicality eventually won over her livid emotions, and by the time Claudette entered the billionaire's office, she had all of her ducks in a row, her practiced smile in place.
But then the musky scent inside his office reached her nostrils, and realizing what it meant—-
Logan raised a brow when his normally graceful lawyer almost tripped over her own feet.
"Sorry about that." Claudette quickly righted herself even as she found herself hurling the vilest curses at the billionaire's nanny inside her head.
Whatever happened to his fucking rule about women not being allowed in his workplace?
Even Claudette hadn't been spared from that, and she had only been allowed access when her role in his life switched from mistress to legal counsel.
So what made the nanny the fucking exemption?
"Are you alright?" Logan asked.
"Yes, of course. It's just a little sprain," she lied. "I injured myself while playing tennis last week."
"I'm sorry to hear that." The billionaire gestured for Claudette to take a seat before settling down behind his desk. "I assume you have a very good reason for the unscheduled visit?"
"Naturally. Or did you think I only came here because I missed you?" she asked archly.
"Touché." A slight smile curved over Logan's lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit then?"
"The Crown Prince of Najma," she said sweetly.
The billionaire's gaze narrowed. "You're sure of this?"
"The information didn't come cheap, but yes, everything checks out, and he's indeed the mystery investor we've been after." She gave a little pause. "He's a personal friend of yours?"
"We've known each other for some time," Logan acknowledged.
"Then nothing should seem amiss if you were to bump into him in the Oil Barons' Ball tomorrow night and strike up a conversation..." Claudette's gaze was deliberately thoughtful. "Tickets have been sold out months ago, but we both know the committee will happily bend backwards to add your name to the list."
Logan had never cared to attend the event, seeing it simply as a shallow excuse for people to dress up and flaunt their wealth under the pretense of charity. But since he had long been keen to close this particular deal, the billionaire asked curtly, "You'll take care of it then?"
"Easily," his lawyer answered with a shrug. "And since it's a pair-only ball—-" Claudette's face was carefully blank. "Shall I go with you to help with negotiations, or do we attend separately?"
Several moments passed, and the billionaire said finally, "I'll send a car for you."
Claudette left soon after, but Logan remained in his office, unable to shake off the feeling that he had done something completely wrong, and the disturbing thought persisted even as he headed down to the in-house daycare center to take Tilly and his nephew home.
"So..." Tilly waited until they were in the privacy of the billionaire's limousine before speaking. "How did your meeting with your lawyer go?" She managed not to make a face at the description, considering what her best friend Google had revealed.
Claudette Berger, 31 years old, divorced, and a former long-term girlfriend of Logan Hardwall.
Tilly struggled not to glower.
A woman who still wanted her husband, in other words.
Logan's broad shoulders moved in a shrug. "As well as it should be, considering what I'm paying her."
And because he was never the type to delay the inevitable, he added after a moment, "I'll be attending the Oil Barons' Ball with her tomorrow night."
"Oh?"
"Since we're still at Stage 2 in our timeline, we need to let at least another month pass before I'm able to take you anywhere public."
"True."
"That's what we agreed on, if you recall," he went on doggedly. "We need to make this whole thing realistic and credible, rather than risk having people think of us as a whirlwind romance and doubt our capability as parents to Liam."
Was it just her, Tilly wondered, or was the billionaire really acting so suspiciously defensive?
"And since I'll only be there to conduct business, it makes sense to bring Claudette along and have her help with negotiations."
Tilly couldn't help feeling that the billionaire was somehow forcing himself to put her in her place.
"You understand, don't you?"
"Of course." And she did. She had to. Because mail-order brides like her couldn't be afford to be picky. Billie was safe and healthy, Liam was the sweetest, and Logan was the kind of man she would always be able to count on—-
"Mama, look." Liam, seated on the carpet, tugged at her skirt then proudly showed off the train set he had been able to piece together.
Tilly gasped. "Wow!" She quickly knelt down to give the little boy a tight hug. "You're so good!" She smiled up at the billionaire. "Isn't Liam good, Mr. Hardwall?"
"Very much so." Logan smiled back even as he tried to convince himself that her not calling him by his given name didn't mean anything.