Kevin stood frozen, utterly stunned.
A glint flashed in Logan’s eyes—drunk Mrs. Reid was indeed easy to fool.
He looked up, his tone layered with meaning. "Mr. Turner, did you hear that?"
Kevin looked like he was about to explode. "...You’re what to her?"
Her husband? He knew Selina was married, but he had no idea her husband was Logan!
How could she be so reckless? Didn’t she know Logan was actively investigating Luna’s whereabouts?!
"Since you’ve heard it loud and clear, Mr. Turner, stop pretending you don’t understand."
Without another word, Logan carried Selina to his car. "I’m taking my wife home now. Do you have any objections, Mr. Turner?"
People nearby started glancing over, making Kevin’s jaw clench.
"......"
What was he supposed to say? If he objected, it’d look like he was trying to steal someone’s wife.
Logan let out a soft chuckle. "Mrs. Reid, time to go home."
Selina mumbled in confusion, curling up in the passenger seat, her head resting against the window.
As Logan drove, he couldn’t resist glancing over at a red light.
She’d fallen asleep without him noticing, curled up like a small, fragile bundle—a side of her he’d never seen when she was awake.
When sober, she was all sharp edges and walls, fiercely independent, never letting anyone close. Why was this little thing so stubborn?
He’d already figured everything out, yet the little liar still clung to her secrets.
Logan reached over, gently pinching her cheek before slowing the car slightly to let her sleep more comfortably.
...
When they arrived at Sapphire Valley Villa, Logan carried her out of the car.
Selina groggily opened her eyes, dazed.
She vaguely remembered drinking with Kevin to meet a business partner... and then Logan brought her home.
Wait—Logan?!
Realizing she was being carried, Selina’s face flushed with embarrassment. "Logan, what are you doing?!"
The stark contrast between her drowsy compliance and her sharp-tongued protest now made her look like a feisty little hedgehog.
Logan’s gaze remained indifferent. "Carrying you upstairs."
Oh, just upstairs...
But she couldn’t let it slide. "Who told you to carry me?" she huffed.
Logan chuckled softly. Only a drunk Mrs. Reid could be this easy to tease.
"Mrs. Reid, didn’t you just admit to Kevin an hour ago that we’re husband and wife? And now you’re pretending you don’t even know me?"
Selina’s expression froze.
Wait... she did vaguely remember saying something like, "He’s my husband."
Logan’s lazy voice pierced through her hazy memory. "Ah, seems like you remember now. You called me ’husband’ earlier, and now you won’t even let me carry you? Mrs. Reid, that’s a bad habit to develop."
Selina decided to play dead, saying nothing.
As soon as she arrived at her room, she jumped out of Logan’s arms like a frightened squirrel, rushed into the room, and locked Logan out of the door, "Mr. Reid, I’m going to rest, you go and get busy!"
Selena then realized that she was still wearing Galaxy River. Although the wedding dress was beautiful, it was not suitable for daily life.
Selena quickly took off her wedding dress, changed into a nightgown, and threw herself on the bed. Ah, the quilt was so comfortable~
Logan, who was standing outside the door, thought Selina was very cute and was reluctant to let her go. He knocked on the door and reminded her, "Your phone is in my hand and it keeps ringing."
Selena clicked her tongue in frustration, got out of bed, and opened the door—but just a crack. She reached her hand out and said, "Give me my phone."
Logan chuckled softly. "Mrs. Reid, I brought you home drunk, and now you’re shutting me out? Isn’t that a bit rude?"
Selena had to admit it did seem a little rude to leave Logan outside. Not to mention, he was her legal husband—and this was his house.
She closed the door again, but this time she didn’t lock it. Instead, she dove back under the covers in one swift motion, not even leaving her head exposed. Her muffled voice called out, "Come in!"
Logan opened the door and walked into the room. Seeing the little bundle hiding under the covers amused him. He walked over to the bed and said, "Here’s your phone."
Only then did Selena poke her head and hand out to take the phone.
Selina lazily checked her missed calls.
But when she saw the call log, her eyes went wide.
Several missed calls from Grandpa Clark and the Clark Family’s landline, but most of them were from Katie.
Even without answering, Selina could practically hear Katie’s furious, hysterical voice.
Well, of course. After humiliating Natalia at the bridal boutique, the Clark Family would definitely be blaming her.
Logan’s calm voice broke through her thoughts. "With things escalating like this, the Carter Family might target you too. But don’t worry—you have me."
He’d already dropped enough hints. If Mrs. Reid couldn’t figure it out herself, that wasn’t his fault.
He continued, "To prove this, you need to find your mother’s original design drafts. They’re not with the Carter Family, and you don’t have them either. That means there’s a good chance they’re with the Clark Family—probably hidden by James."
Selina’s mind cleared in an instant, as if a light had switched on.
Of course! If she couldn’t find them, she’d just go get them from James herself!
She shot upright with sudden determination. "I’m going to the Clark Family right now—"
"Mmph!"
Logan hadn’t expected her to fling the covers off so suddenly, revealing nothing but a thin, strappy nightgown underneath.
Her pale skin seemed to glow under the warm light.
The rush of alcohol hit Selina’s head again, making her dizzy. She stumbled forward—
—and fell right into Logan’s arms.
His throat tightened.
She wasn’t wearing anything under that flimsy nightgown.
Her body was soft—too soft—like she was made entirely of silk and warmth.
Logan’s blood surged straight to his head, his voice growing rough with restraint.
"Selina, if getting drunk makes you throw yourself at people, that’s a habit you need to break."
Selina blinked, her sluggish, intoxicated brain trying to process his words.
Throw herself at him? She hadn’t done that, had she?
She tried to push herself upright, but her arms felt like noodles, refusing to cooperate.
Her thin nightgown had ridden up slightly, barely hanging on, teasing with every movement.
Logan felt like she was a kitten, lazily pawing at him.
A dangerous little kitten.
Her hand slid from his chest down to his abs, pressing lightly as if testing the firmness.
His Adam’s apple bobbed again.
Without warning, he tilted her chin up, his grip firm, his posture dominant and unyielding.
"Mrs. Reid," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers, "you brought this on yourself."
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