Page 51 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

LOGAN

I want to see you tonight.

I type as I rush to the office.

Sloane

My place or yours?

Fuck. Every cell in my body screams at me to go to her, to bury myself in her until the rest of the world fades away.

But I can’t, not yet. As much as I long to escape from the shitstorm that’s about to hit, to hide away with Sloane and pretend nothing else matters, I know I have to face this head-on.

I have loose ends to tie up and people to hold accountable before everything comes crashing down around me.

I take a deep breath as I stride into the office. First stop the IT department .

“Sam,” I bark as I enter his office, not bothering with pleasantries. “Tell me you have something for me.”

“Mr. Valeur. I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

I level him with a flat stare, in no mood for small talk. “I didn’t realize I needed an engraved invitation to show up at my company.”

“No, of course not,” he mumbles.

“So, what do you have for me?”

Sam clears his throat, his fingers flying over his keyboard. “Well, whoever sent the video wasn’t exactly a criminal mastermind. They didn’t even bother to use a proxy server or spoof their IP address. Amateur hour, really.”

“Bottom line it for me, Sam. Who sent the fucking email?”

“Right, sorry.” Sam swallows, picking up on my barely leashed anger. “The email originated from the personal account of a John Rambett. That name ring any bells?”

I go still, a roaring filling my ears as the pieces click into place. “‘John Rambett’?” I repeat. As in Johnny, Sloane’s ex? The one she brought to the company gala?

Part of me is almost disappointed it wasn’t some shadowy corporate rival trying to oust me, some Machiavellian scheme to bring down the mighty Logan Valeur.

At least then, it would make sense, have a twisted sort of logic to it. But this? This is just petty, vindictive bullshit, the actions of a small man with an even smaller dick.

Oh, he has no idea the world of pain he just brought down on himself. No one fucks with what’s mine and walks away unscathed.

“Logan? You okay? ”

“I’m fine,” I bite out. “What else?”

“I was able to scrub the video from all the company servers and email accounts that received it. But...” He hesitates, something like dread flickering over his face.

My eyes narrow to slits. “But what?” I demand, my voice a low growl.

Sam shifts in his seat, refusing to meet my gaze. “Before I could complete the purge, I found evidence that the video had been...forwarded from one of the original recipient accounts to a personal device.”

The world goes red around the edges, a strange buzzing filling my head. “Someone forwarded the video,” I repeat, a muscle ticking in my jaw. “To their private phone. One of my fucking managers.”

It’s not a question, but Sam nods anyway.

“Who?”

“Nicholas Porter,” he says.

I’m moving before I even register the intention, my body propelled by pure, unadulterated rage. Sam calls after me, but I’m already out the door, my feet eating up the distance to Porter’s office.

I don’t bother knocking but throw the door open hard enough that it rebounds off the wall with a crash. Porter leaps to his feet, his face draining of color as he takes in my expression.

“Logan, what?—”

“That’s Mr. Valeur to you,” I snarl, stalking forward until I’m looming over him, using every inch of my considerable height to intimidate. “I’d say you’ve lost the right to use my first name, wouldn’t you?”

Porter stammers, his eyes so wide the whites are showing. “Y–yes, of course, Mr. Valeur. My apologies. How can I assist you today?”

As if he doesn’t know. As if he can’t read the murder in my eyes, the violence straining against every line of my body.

“It’s been brought to my attention that you received a certain video. One featuring a female employee of this company, filmed without her knowledge or consent. Ringing any bells?”

Porter goes even paler, if possible, his skin taking on a grayish hue. “I... That is... Yes, I did receive a file, b–but I didn’t realize... I mean, I didn’t know what... I just opened the attachment without thinking...”

“Oh, I think you knew exactly what it was.” I lean in closer until I can smell the sour stench of his fear. “Why else would you take the extra step of forwarding it to your personal device? Wanted a little masturbation material for later, is that it?”

I vibrate with the effort it takes not to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until his eyeballs pop out of his skull.

The image of him hunched over his phone, his dick in his hand, as he watches Sloane—my Sloane—in her most intimate, vulnerable moment makes me want to set the world on fire.

Porter quakes, his hands raised. “I didn’t... It wasn’t like that, I swear! I just... I wasn’t thinking clearly. It was a horrible lapse in judgment, I know that now. I’m so, so sorry?—”

“Your phone. Now.” I thrust out my hand, my expression brooking no argument.

Porter’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment before he fumbles in his pocket and produces the device with shaking fingers. He places it in my outstretched palm like it’s a live grenade.

I swipe through to his photos, my gorge rising as I find the video. I want to vomit, to put my fist through a wall, to rain down unholy retribution on this quivering sack of shit. But I force myself to focus, to do what needs to be done.

“Did you send this to anyone else?” I demand as I delete the file with a vicious stab of my finger. “Post it anywhere, share it with anyone outside the company?”

“N–no, I swear it!” Porter’s voice cracks with desperation, with the naked fear of a man who knows his life is crumbling around him. “I didn’t do anything with it, I just... I saved it for my own...use,” he finishes, his face flushing a dull red.

I stare at him, letting my disgust and contempt roll off me in waves.

I believe him, if only because he strikes me as too much of a pathetic bottom-feeder to have the balls to actually disseminate the video further.

Still, that doesn’t change what he did, the complete and utter violation of trust, of basic human decency.

I toss his phone back to him, watching with grim satisfaction as he fumbles and nearly drops it.

“You’re fired,” I say. “Effective immediately. Security will escort you out and confiscate your company devices. If I find out you made copies of that video, that you kept even a single frame of it... Well, let’s just say you better hope I don’t.”

“When are you getting here?” Sloane’s voice is a balm to my frayed nerves, even through the speaker of my phone. I can picture her curled up on her couch, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she waits for my response.

“I need to take care of something first,” I say, my gaze locked on the unsuspecting figure puttering around in the garden across the street.

John fucking Rambett, without a care in the world, unaware of the reckoning headed his way. My muscles tremble with the effort it takes to stay in the car, to not march over there and introduce his smug face to my fists.

“You found out who filmed the video.” It’s not a question. Sloane has always been able to see right through me, read me like an open book, no matter how hard I try to maintain my mask of cool indifference.

I exhale, the sound harsh in the confines of the car. “Yes.” No point in lying to her. I could never lie to her.

“Who is it, Logan?”

I hesitate, weighing my words. “I don’t think you want to know, Sloane. It’s not… It’s only going to hurt you more.”

“Logan, I’m the one filmed there, the one exposed to everyone, the one whose career is in ruins. I have a right to know who did this to me. I need to know.”

“John Rambett.”

Silence. I hear her breathing, quick and shallow, can feel the shock and betrayal radiating through the phone. “Sloane? Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just can’t believe it was him, I was sure... I thought...” Her voice breaks.

“I’ll handle him, baby,” I promise, my voice low and dark with menace. “He’ll never hurt you again, I swear it. ”

“Wait.” Alarm rings clearly in her tone. “What do you mean, ‘handle him’? Logan, what are you going to do?”

“What needs to be done.”

“Don’t… Don’t kill him, Logan. Promise me.” She sounds frightened now, horrified at the depths of violence she must hear in my voice.

“He hurt you, Sloane. Betrayed you in the worst possible way. Why the hell should I show him mercy he doesn’t deserve?

Why are you defending him? Do you still care about him?

Do you… Do you still love him?” I hate how vulnerable I sound, how pathetically insecure, but the thought of her still harboring feelings for that snake, even after everything he’s done.

“No! God, no. Logan. It’s you I love. Only you.

” The fierce conviction in her voice soothes the jagged ache in my chest, the raw, ugly part of me that still can’t quite believe I get to have this, have her.

“I don’t give a damn about John Rambett.

I want to see him punished for what he’s done, I want him to pay.

But not like that. Not if it means you throwing your life away, doing something you can’t come back from. I don’t want that for you. For us.”

I’m silent for a long moment, struggling against the black tide of rage and possessiveness threatening to drag me under. She’s right, I know she is.

“Please, Logan,” she whispers. “Promise me.”

“Okay. I promise. No murder on the agenda. But I’m still going to have a little chat with our pal Johnny. Set a few things straight.”

“Logan…”

“I’ll be good,” I assure her, already opening the car door and unfolding myself from the driver’s seat. “No permanent damage. Scout’s honor.”

“Why don’t I believe you were ever a scout?”

“I’m wounded, truly.” I stare across the street. “Call you back in a few, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too. Be careful.”

I end the call and slip the phone into my pocket, all levity draining away as I zero in on my target. Rambett looks up as I approach, his eyes going wide with recognition. He scrambles to his feet, wiping dirt-streaked hands on his jeans.

“You’re the son of a bitch who stole my girlfriend,” he says before I can utter a word. “The rich boss. I knew there was something between you two, but she denied it.”

“She’s not your girlfriend. You’re the one who chose to throw it all in the trash when you cheated on her.”

He flashes a smile, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he spits, false bravado dripping from every word.

“Strutting in here like you’re some kind of white knight, like your shit don’t stink.

You think I don’t know what this is about?

You just can’t stand the thought of Sloane with anyone else, can’t handle the fact that she was mine first. This is just you pissing on your territory, marking her as yours like she’s a fucking fire hydrant. ”

I could take him down with one kick.

“Unlike you, she’s a person with internal integrity.” I fight the urge to wipe the smug look off his face with my knuckles. “Sleeping with someone else while you’re in a relationship isn’t a mistake, it’s cheating, plain and simple.”

He smiles, a twisted, ugly thing that makes my skin crawl. “My only mistake was getting caught. ”

Rage bubbles up in my veins, hot and thick.

It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to keep from launching myself at him, from pummeling him into the dirt until he’s nothing but a broken, bloody smear.

I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to center myself, to remember my promise to Sloane.

“You got caught again. You sent that video,” I grind out between clenched teeth. “I have proof. How the hell did you get into my offices to film it?”

“I didn’t.” He shrugs again, the picture of nonchalance. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

“Then how did you get the footage?”

“I got it in an email,” he says. “From someone calling himself The Silent Witness. And I knew I had to share it, to show that bitch what she’s worth. She thinks she’s so much better than me, but she’s nothing but a whore. And now everyone knows it.”

The world blurs to a stark white at the edges, and a roaring sound fills my ears. One moment I stand, vibrating with pent-up violence, the next, my fist slams into his face with a sickening crunch.

He goes down like a sack of bricks, sprawling on the ground in an undignified heap. He touches his fingers to his nose, pulling them away to stare at the blood coating them. He sticks out his tongue, lapping at the crimson rivulets dripping over his lips.

Stay down, I silently urge him. Don’t get up. I promised Sloane.

No such luck. He staggers to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood and what looks like a tooth. With a wordless snarl of rage, he launches himself at me, swinging .

I almost sigh at his pitiful display. His form is sloppy, his movements clumsy. It’s child’s play to dodge his flailing fists. I could end this in seconds, put him down like the rabid dog he is.

Instead, I force myself to hold back, to remember my vow to Sloane. It’s been a while since my fighting days, but I still keep in shape, still spar regularly. My reflexes are as sharp as ever.

He comes at me again, panting and cursing, his face a mask of frustrated rage.

I let him get close, let him think he has a chance. And then I pivot, snapping my foot out in a lightning-quick crescent kick that catches him square in the chest.

He goes flying, landing on his back in the dirt with a heavy thud. This time, he stays down, wheezing and clutching at his ribs.

I approach slowly, standing over him with my head cocked. I didn’t even kick him that hard, pulled back the blow at the last second. None of my old opponents would have gone down from such a love tap.

His eyes are closed, his face screwed up in pain as he rolls from side to side. Pathetic.

“Logan!”

My head snaps up at the sound of my name, my heart seizing in my chest. Sloane? What the hell is she doing here?

I turn to see her sprinting toward me across the yard. Even now, with fear and confusion written across her face, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Logan, no!” Her eyes are wide and full of panic, fixed on a point over my shoulder. “Behind you!”

I whirl around just in time to see a dark shape hurtling toward me. I try to twist out of the way, but I’m a split second too slow.

Blinding, searing pain explodes in my skull as something hard connects with the back of my head. I hear Sloane scream, high and terrified, as if from a great distance.

A deafening ringing fills my ears, drowning out all other sounds. The world tilts, the ground rushing up to meet me.

And then there’s nothing but darkness.