Page 3 of Logan
“Winning the outstanding employee award will come with a valuable prize, unprecedented in the company's history,” Liam announces, his voice carrying through the room. “They’ll enjoy a three-week vacation in London next month, all expenses included, with a stay in our company apartment.”
A collective gasp fills the air, followed by enthusiastic cheers and applause.
I gasp too. Paid time off? In London? I’ve never left the borders of the US. Last year, I was supposed to fly to Paris with Johnny. I even got a passport.
Then I caught him fucking someone else.
“I have to win this, Emery. You know how much I need avacation, especially after what happened. I’m ready to practice my British accent,” I say, using a fake one to drive my point home.
“Never do that accent again if you don’t want to get spanked.”
“What?” I protest, feigning innocence. “I think it’s quite good. It sounds really cheeky,” I continue in my fake accent, just as the room falls silent, leaving only my voice heard.
Everyone’s eyes are on me.
Fuck.
I offer a sheepish smile and mutter a quick “sorry,” hoping to divert the attention away from me. Just as I do, everyone’s gaze shifts toward the entrance.
I stretch to my tiptoes to glimpse whatever is more captivating than my embarrassment and see him—the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on—striding toward Liam.
My jaw drops. If I were a cartoon character, it would probably hit the floor.
Well, perhaps “beautiful” isn’t quite the right word to describe him.
He towers over Liam, easily surpassing six feet in height. I doubt the top of my head would even reach his shoulders. His blue eyes are so clear that their brilliance reaches me even from halfway across the room, and his dark hair, almost black, frames his face, falling in a tousled manner that only serves to accentuate the intensity of his piercing gaze.
His features are sharp and sculpted, boasting a strong nose and a jawline so defined it could probably split a tree trunk.
And that dimple in his chin causes my knees to jerk.
Whoever you are, divine creation, take me now.
Even in my fantasies, and God knows I have plenty, none of the men I’ve imagined look as good as this guy.
“Who is he?” I whisper to Emery without taking my eyes off him.
“Seriously, Sloane?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Thatis The Dark Lord, the King of Darkness, the Ruler of Anger,” Emery sneers, throwing out a string of epithets.
“That’s Logan Valeur?” my voice emerges louder than intended.
“Shhh... You mustn’t say the exact name. Like Voldem?—”
“Yes, yes. Why didn’t you tell me that’s what he looks like?” I feel as though someone just struck me with an iron hammer.
But what did I expect? That Liam would look as good as he does, and his older brother would be unattractive just because he’s not nice?
Although, at first glance, I wouldn’t have guessed they were brothers. Though both possess the attractiveness that can leave a woman weak in the knees and wet in her underwear, they are also very different.
Logan Valeur exudes an aura of toughness, mystery, and distance, perfectly fitting the nickname The Dark Lord. Liam, on the other hand, is approachable and wears a constant smile.
“I only saw him once before,” Emery whispers, “and I tried to disappear from his sight so he wouldn’t decide to fire me. Honestly, I didn’t take notes.”
“He can’t be that awful.” Damn, he’s stunning. Someone who looks like that can’t be all bad.
