Switched Bride, True Luna - Chapter 65: Chapter 65

Logan
I’d dismissed the staff an hour ago, claiming I needed uninterrupted time to review the latest budget packets and inter-pack proposals.
Truth was, I needed space. But not from work.
The reports lay scattered across my desk, but my eyes kept circling back to Reid’s latest set of updates, specifically a new software acquisition tied to data security improvements and resource tracking.
Sounded useful. Looked expensive. But what bothered me wasn’t the cost. It was the justification attached to it.
Three of the bullet points mirrored language pulled from an internal memo I’d reviewed with Emily two weeks ago. A memo that hadn’t been circulated widely.
I’d only given Julian temporary access to while Emily was compiling her team’s financial recovery analysis.
I tapped the side of the tablet with my thumb, a slow rhythm building as I scanned the digital logs Julian had appended to the latest system request form.
Routine access. Multiple late-night entries. One timestamp stood out—two hours after Emily logged off.
Coincidence?
Possibly. But I didn’t believe in those.
I minimized the report and opened Julian’s employee file. No formal red flags. Above average performance metrics. He'd been respectful. Efficient. Maybe even a little overeager.
But that eagerness had always been toward Emily. And now it was creeping into other places—too many aligned entries, too many shared points of data between him and my stepbrother.
My jaw tightened.
I wasn’t angry yet. But my fists curled up, tense and ready. It was the same instinct that had protected my Pack since I was old enough to carry my father’s name.
I scrolled back up and flagged the logs. I just wanted the timestamps. A record.
Once I had what I needed, I closed the files and leaned back, pinching the bridge of my nose. The tension behind my eyes had become familiar lately.
Emily was putting distance between us again. It was like seeing her ex had reopened a scar she thought had healed.
Maybe it was the media. Maybe she knew about the surprise meeting with my father. Hells, maybe it was just me.
I stood, shoving the chair back with a low scrape against the floor and left the room without turning off the lights. I told myself I just needed air.
But my feet took me home, towards the other offices. Toward her.
The room lights were low, sensors dimming them to amber. The door was cracked slightly, lamplight spilling out in a pool. I slowed.
Emily was inside. Standing by her desk. I could see her profile through the opening: head slightly bowed; brow furrowed in focus.
Her hand slid something into the bottom drawer. A folder, thick and bound. She locked the drawer quickly and slipped the key back into the side pocket of her coat before turning to gather the rest of her things.
I stayed still, just beyond the edge of her vision.
I was spying. But I didn’t want to interrupt her if she didn’t want me to see whatever it was she just tucked away like it burned her fingers.
After a beat, I stepped back into the shadowed hallway. Let her have it. Let her keep it. Whatever she needed.
But I stored the moment, quietly, the way I did when I didn’t yet know which direction the threat might come from.
By the time I made it back home to my rooms, the thought of sleep evaporated. I stripped off my shirt and dropped it across the foot of the bed, not bothering with the rest.
The window overlooking the yard had fogged slightly with the temperature shift, mist clinging to the glass. A few lights still glowed across the grounds, but most of the Pack had turned in.
Except her.
I knew Emily well enough by now to recognize when she was restless. She didn’t flinch often, but when she did, it was quiet. Subtle.
She’d been pulling back ever since Silverroot. Not all at once—just small steps, each one invisible to the untrained eye. But I saw them. I felt them.
And tonight, watching her lock something away… that was another step.
My fingers curled into a loose fist at my side.
It wasn’t just that she was hiding something. It was that she didn’t trust me with it. And the worst part? I couldn’t blame her.
There were too many reasons for Emily to protect herself. Her Pack had turned on her. Her family used her. The press tried to dissect her, and I… I had let hesitation and inaction overtake active protection of her.
She’d given me pieces of herself. The sanctuary. Her rare smiles. Her truth during late nights when she wasn’t quite guarding it.
But what had I given her?
I crossed the room to my tablet and opened the proposal packet Julian had submitted earlier this week.
Reid had initialed a note in the margins, something about future scalability, referencing a potential media database.
Odd. That wasn’t part of the original brief.
I skipped to the last page. A signature box. Julian’s handwriting. Neat. Formal. But rushed. The timestamp matched one of the late-night logins I’d flagged earlier.
I sank to the edge of the bed, letting the facts settle in my chest.
Emily trusted him. Or at least she wanted to. I’d seen them walking together, heads bent low over shared screens. Her posture eased around him in ways it hadn’t around me lately.
I didn’t think she was naïve, but I also knew how lonely she’d been. And Julian was convenient. Attentive. Always nearby.
I hated the thought.
Another text pinged on my phone. “Final courier batch came through. You wanted the press overview tonight?”
I stood, thumbs tapping a quick response. “Tomorrow.”
I peeked my head out into the hall and could just make out the faint glow beneath Emily’s door.
I didn’t need to know everything she was holding back. Not yet. But part of me itched to knock. To ask. To pull whatever truth she was hiding into the light and make it mine.
But that would be the wrong move.
Emily didn’t respond well to pressure. She met it with silence or fire, depending on the day. And I wanted neither. Not tonight.
So I watched her shadow pass by the door once. Then again. Then vanish entirely.
There was a knot in my chest that hadn’t loosened in days. A familiar feeling, but unwelcome.
I didn’t know what she was hiding. I didn’t know if it had anything to do with Reid. Or the case. Or her past.
But I knew one thing with bone-deep certainty: Something was shifting between us again. And I needed to make sure she shifted towards me, and not away.