Switched Bride, True Luna - Chapter 74: Chapter 74

Emily
The discrepancy was small.
Eighty-seven points was barely a whisper in the quarterly ledgers. Easy to miss. Easier to ignore.
But I didn’t ignore it.
I’d learned long ago that sabotage doesn’t start with fireworks. It starts with faint smudges on otherwise clean glass.
And I’d spent enough time cleaning up after Chloe to recognize her fingerprints, even through layers of accounting software and digital formalities.
The flagged entry was hidden in a routine transaction between one of Titanfang’s suppliers and an auxiliary firm. It was Eldrin & Vale—Chloe’s new workplace.
I opened the archived contract logs, cross-checked dates, reviewed access history.
Someone had deliberately rerouted funds through a dummy holding account under Chloe’s signature access level—then adjusted timestamps to make it look like I’d signed off on the expense.
It was a setup. A subtle one. By the time anyone noticed the deviation, the suspicion would fall directly on me.
But they hadn’t counted on me noticing first.
I pushed back from my desk, heart steady.
For a brief moment I thought about going to Logan. Instead, I composed a short, direct message to the executive leads and finance council:
Meeting at noon. Attendance mandatory. Preliminary audit attached.
– Emily Bennett
I couldn’t sit back and wait for Logan to handle this. I also wasn’t going to let someone else drag me down in another scandal.
By the time the council chamber filled, I had a full audit report printed and distributed at every seat. Logan entered last, scanning the room, then me.
I held his gaze as I called the meeting to order.
“I’ve called this meeting to clarify a breach in our financial systems,” I said once everyone was seated, voice calm, clear. “I believe someone attempted to manufacture evidence of fraud in my name. They failed.”
I clicked the remote, and the projector lit up behind me. Ledger records. Transfer logs. Account flags. Highlighted anomalies, each circled in red.
I walked them through it step by step. I didn’t make it dramatic, I just showed my proof.
And they listened.
Logan didn’t interrupt once. But when I glanced his way during the third slide—when I laid out the timeline Chloe had likely used to plant the irregularity—his eyes were sharp, locked on mine.
He gave the smallest nod, not approval exactly. Alignment. We were in rhythm, even without speaking.
“I believe this breach originated from a junior consultant at Eldrin & Vale,” I concluded. “Based on clearance logs and endpoint locations, the access came from Chloe Bennett’s workstation. Whether she acted alone or with outside encouragement remains unclear.”
A murmur passed through the room. Eyes darted and the whispers started again.
“She underestimated how much I’d redesigned the internal audit system,” I added, my voice soft but deliberate. “She didn’t know I had mirrors on the back end.”
Logan leaned forward slightly, voice smooth but cutting. “We’ll be conducting a broader review of all auxiliary personnel. Anyone working under Titanfang’s name will be held to Titanfang’s standards.”
Silence followed. Heavy and satisfying.
No one defended Chloe. No one dared.
When the meeting adjourned, people cleared the room quickly. A few offered compliments, half-curious, half-cautious. I gave polite nods in return.
Logan remained seated, watching me as I gathered the audit reports back into my folder.
The look he gave me wasn’t surprised anymore. It was respect.
And when I turned and walked out without a backward glance, it wasn’t to make a point. It was because, for the first time, I didn’t feel like I needed permission to lead.
The hallway outside was unusually quiet for this hour—most staff already dismissed, the building settling into its late-evening hush.
I leaned against the wall beside the wide glass window, holding the finalized audit report in my hands.
Maybe I just wanted to reread it one more time. Maybe I was waiting for someone to challenge it.
Maybe I was just… waiting.
Footsteps echoed softly down the corridor. I didn’t have to look up to know it was Logan.
He stopped a few feet from me, coat unbuttoned, tie loosened, hair slightly out of place like he’d dragged his hand through it in frustration or thought.
His gaze dropped briefly to the folder in my hand.
"You didn’t need me in there," he said, voice low and even.
I turned to face him fully. “No,” I said simply. “I didn’t.”
He nodded, and for a moment, it seemed like he might just walk away. But his weight shifted, like something held him there.
I spoke before he could. “But I still wanted you there.”
His head lifted, just slightly, just enough for me to see the flicker of surprise in his eyes. Not at the words, but at the truth in them.
I’m not sure why I admitted it, but I meant it.
He stepped closer, not quite touching, but close enough that I felt the change in the air between us.
“You had them from the first word,” he murmured.
I shrugged one shoulder, letting the corner of my mouth lift. “Didn’t hurt having a brooding Alpha glowering at the end of the table. Added a little flavor.”
His lips twitched into an almost-smile.
“I wasn’t glowering,” he said.
“You were glowering.”
“I was calculating.”
“…While glowering.”
We stood like that, barely a foot between us, the silence stretching long but comfortable.
Logan looked at me like he wanted to say something more. But didn’t.
And that restraint—that control—it did something to me. The Logan I’d known before would’ve filled this silence with strategy. With decisions. With declarations.
But this Logan—the one just standing here beside me, saying nothing, demanding nothing—felt infinitely more tempting.
I lowered my voice. “She’s going to try again. Chloe doesn’t like to lose.”
“I know,” he said. “But she’ll be playing catch-up now.”
I nodded once, then held up the report. “I’m sending it in. I just… needed a minute.”
His eyes searched mine. “You want company?”
I thought about it. Then I handed him the folder.
“I want a witness.”
He took it slowly, fingertips brushing mine and held the folder like a precious object. Like he knew how much it meant to me.
I watched him set it carefully on the nearby ledge before stepping back toward me—this time, just a little closer than before.
“You’ve changed things here,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
“You’ve changed me, too.”
I didn’t mean to move. My hand lifted on its own, brushing the edge of his jaw with the backs of my fingers. Not pulling him in. Just touching. Just confirming he was real.
He caught my wrist in a gentle hold and pressed a kiss to the inside of it. Soft. Slow. Like a thank you he didn’t know how to say.
My breath caught.
But as he let my hand fall gently back to my side, I knew something between us had shifted again.
Not because of the kiss.
But because, for the first time, it didn’t feel like either of us was pretending not to want it.