Chapter 4 The First Scar

Logan wasn't used to feeling helpless. His entire life had been built on action-training, fighting, protecting. But standing in the Sinclair mansion, watching Eleanor pretend everything was fine, he had never felt more powerless.

The bruises were still fresh in his mind. He had seen them in the dark, but now, in the daylight, Eleanor hid them beneath long-sleeved gowns and perfectly composed smiles. She played the part of the billionaire's wife flawlessly, her posture poised, her words carefully chosen.

But Logan saw the truth.

He saw it in the way she kept her arms close to her body, in the way she subtly avoided Richard's touch, in the way her laughter never quite reached her eyes.

And then, in front of an audience, the perfect illusion cracked.

The Gala

That night, Richard hosted a charity gala, the kind of event where powerful men in tuxedos congratulated themselves for their generosity while sipping thousand-dollar champagne. Logan stood at his usual post, keeping watch as socialites, politicians, and celebrities filled the grand ballroom. Eleanor was at Richard's side, as always.

She was stunning in an emerald green dress that hugged her frame, her dark hair swept into an elegant updo. But Logan wasn't admiring her beauty. He was watching for signs.

Richard played the role of the charming billionaire effortlessly, shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries. Eleanor stayed close, a delicate smile fixed on her lips. It wasn't until an older gentleman-one of Richard's business associates-reached for her hand that Logan saw it.

She winced.

It was barely noticeable, just a flicker of discomfort before she quickly masked it. But Logan caught it. So did Richard.

For a split second, Logan saw something dark flash in Richard's eyes. A warning. Eleanor must have seen it too because she immediately lowered her gaze, withdrawing her hand.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, but Logan knew better. Richard wouldn't make a scene in public. He never did. But behind closed doors? That was another story.

The Aftermath

Logan was stationed near the stairs when they returned home. Eleanor walked ahead, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Richard followed behind, his usual mask of charm absent. The second the front doors closed, his voice turned sharp.

"What the hell was that?"

Logan tensed, every instinct screaming at him to intervene. But he stayed put. He had to be smart about this.

"I don't know what you mean," Eleanor said quietly.

"You flinched," Richard hissed. "Do you have any idea how that looked?"

Silence. Then-

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

Logan clenched his fists.

Richard exhaled, the anger in his voice chilling. "Go to bed, Eleanor."

She obeyed without another word, disappearing up the stairs. Richard stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair before stalking off toward his study.

Logan waited, giving it a few minutes before making his way upstairs. He had no plan, no reason for being there, except that every fiber of his being told him not to ignore this.

He found her on the balcony of her bedroom, staring out at the night sky. The city lights shimmered in the distance, but she looked far beyond them, lost in something unseen.

She didn't startle when he stepped onto the balcony. She must have heard him coming.

"Shouldn't you be keeping watch somewhere else?" she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet sadness.

"I am," Logan replied.

She turned slightly, meeting his gaze. The moonlight illuminated her face, and that's when he saw it. A fresh mark on her wrist. Faint, but unmistakable. His jaw tightened.

Eleanor noticed his gaze and instinctively pulled her sleeve down. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." His voice was low, steady.

She smiled then, but it was a hollow thing. "It has to be."

Logan exhaled slowly. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to live like this, that she wasn't alone. But she wasn't ready to hear it. Not yet.

So instead, he said, "If you ever need help, I'm here."

She looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes. And then, so softly he almost didn't hear it-

"I know."

It wasn't much. But it was a start.

And Logan Carter never ignored a cry for help.