Dawn was just breaking when Alexandra Bloodaxe’s crew hit the shore and surrounded Logan.
Logan was ready to fight until he saw me in the crowd–then all the fight went out of him.
His mouth dropped open, and his dead eyes suddenly came alive.
“I’m sorry, Rachel!”
I wasn’t expecting that.
I figured his first words would be asking me why I’d betrayed him.
Logan was pinned to the ground, his handsome face smeared with stinking mud. His hair was a mess, stubble covering his jaw.
I’d never seen him look so destroyed.
“Rachel, this is all on me! I was too arrogant, too stupid to see Marina coming. I let her hurt you and our babies!”
“That psycho bitch and her kid–I’ve killed them. If that’s not enough, just tell me what you want. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this
right!”
“Please… can you forgive me?”
His voice got quieter in the end, because even he knew it was impossible.
But he kept pushing anyway:
“Rachel, just nod your head and I’ll get you out of here!”
“We’ll leave everything behind. I’ll take you somewhere safe. You love kids–we can adopt one! Or I’ll help you get healthy again, and we can try for another baby…”
I looked at him and let out a cold laugh.
“Really? You think that’s possible?”
Logan froze, then hung his head. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
That whole day, he never asked me why I’d done it or blamed me for siding with his enemies.
He just looked at me calmly, the same way he had the day we first met.
Except this time, I was the one standing.
Finally, he forced a smile:
“Rachel, I wish there was a next life. I’d do everything different.”
“Tell the kids I’m sorry, okay? I let them down. I was never the father they deserved.”
The sun rose higher, flooding everything with light.
Logan closed his eyes forever in regret, whispering “I’m sorry” until his voice gave out.
I kept my end of the deal, helping Alexandra’s crew get everything Logan had built.
12:15
Game Over Mafia Rose! Now Day in Blood For Killing Our Three Kids
5.5%
Chapter 8
By the time I’d wrapped up all the loose ends, a month had passed.
The pain was still there, but I was determined to build the peaceful life I’d always dreamed of.
For the first time in years, I had the freedom to choose my own path.
I enrolled in a jewelry design program in Manhattan–something I’d always been passionate about but never had the chance to pursue while living in Logan’s shadow.
My hands, once skilled with weapons, now shaped beauty instead of destruction.
I rented a small studio apartment in SoHo, nothing fancy, but it was mine–clean, quiet and safe.
That’s when I met him.
Jasper Hale was everything Logan hadn’t been–patient, gentle, respectful. He owned a small gallery in the Village and had been drawn to my work at a student exhibition. Where Logan commanded through fear, Jasper inspired through kindness.
He pursued me with the persistence, bringing me coffee during late study sessions, leaving small bouquets outside my studio door.
I’d learned to trust carefully after Logan, but Jasper’s consistent gentleness slowly melted my defenses.
Finally I genuinely believed I deserved happiness and found my peace.
Until that day, I overheard Jasper talking with his friends.
