More Than A Favor (Elaine and Logan) novel Chapter 82

A Favor 82

Chapter 82 

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Warm blood dripped onto my eyelid, sliding down to the corner of my eye like a grotesque tear. 

My hand trembled as I realized what had just happened. Logan’s hand cupped the back of my head, his grip firm and cold. 

His voice, low and menacing, sounded right next to my ear. “Elaine, listen carefully. You are mine.” 

Then, just as suddenly, his weight disappeared. I scrambled to stand, my legs trembling so much that I had to grip the table behind me for support. 

When I opened my eyes, I saw Logan holding his bleeding head, striding out of the office without so much as a glance back at me. 

“Mr. Mercer, you’re bleeding!” I heard someone shout from the hallway. 

“Shut up!” Logan roared, his voice full of irritation, as his footsteps faded down the corridor. 

I leaned back against the table, closing my eyes in exhaustion. After a moment, I opened them again, unwilling to let anyone see me in my current disheveled state. 

I staggered into Logan’s private restroom and stared at myself in the mirror. The corner of my eye was stained with his blood, streaking down as if I had cried blood. 

My hand shook as I grabbed a wet wipe and cleaned myself up. Once I looked presentable again, I left the office without a word. 

As I drove home, my phone rang. It was Nora. 

“Elaine, I just saw Logan!” she exclaimed. “His head was bleeding!” 

“Did you see him at a hospital?” I asked, my voice low. 

“Yes, 

is assistant was with him. It looked pretty serious…” Nora paused, then added cautiously, “Don’t.” tell me you’re feeling sorry for him?” 

I let out a bitter laugh. “What if I was the one who hit his head?” 

Nora gasped audibly on the other end. 

After a moment of stunned silence, she asked, “What did he do to deserve that?” 

I hesitated, but the memory of Logan pinning me down flashed through my mind, and my voice came out cold. “He tried to force himself on me.” 

“What?!” Nora exploded. “You went too easy on him! You should’ve cracked his skull open like a melon! That bastard deserves it! 

“He wouldn’t touch you when you were his fiancée, but now he wants to force himself on you? Elaine, smashing his head was the least you could’ve done!” 

Hearing her rant, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. For someone who was usually a composed and professional obstetrician, Nora’s temper flared like a wildfire when it came to me. 

“He’s just the typical jealous and insecure man,” I explained. “He’s always thought I wouldn’t leave him. Now that I’m not playing his games anymore, he’s losing it.” 

Nora scoffed. “It’s not just that. He’s realizing too late that he’s madly in love with you. He can’t bear 

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the thought of you being with anyone else.” 

Was that it? 

If Logan loved me, why had he pushed me away so many times? Why did he kiss Selene and make me feel like a fool? 

To stop me from working with Ashton, he had sent Miles, then Selene, to interfere. And now, even though I had left the amusement park project, I felt nothing but relief. 

Ashton had promised me he would see it through, and I trusted him. 

“Elaine,” Nora continued, her voice firm, “listen to me. The next time Logan pulls something like this, don’t hesitate. Knock him out cold! Once he’s scared of you, he won’t dare to mess with you again. 

I chuckled faintly. “Got it.” 

Someone called for Nora in the background. Before she hung up, she added, “I’ll check on him later- just to see if he bled to death.” 

Her dry humor made me laugh, but as soon as the call ended, a wave of sadness washed over me. 

When I arrived home, one of my neighbors greeted me. “Miss, you’re back alone? Where’s your boyfriend?” 

I smiled, remembering how the neighborhood ladies had taken to Ashton the last time he was here. “Why? Is it time to clean the corridors again?” 

They laughed. “No, no! We just think that young man is a good catch. Handsome, hardworking–don’t let him slip away!” 

“Alright,” I replied with a polite smile. 

When I reached the top of the stairs, I stopped in surprise. The door to the unit across from mine, which had been empty for as long as I’d lived here, was wide open. Boxes and furniture were being tossed out into the hallway, blocking my door. 

Curious, I stepped closer and asked, “Are you moving in or out?” 

A middle–aged woman looked up from her work. “Oh, you must live next door,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’m the landlord. The tenant asked me to tidy up the place a bit before he moves 

1. in. 

I nodded. “I see. Thank you for clearing the path to my 

door.” 

As she moved some boxes aside, I glanced into the unit. It was smaller and more run–down than mine. If it were me, I wouldn’t have rented it. 

“By the way,” I asked casually, “is the new tenant a man or a woman?” 

“A man,” she replied with a smile. “Quite a handsome young man, too!”