Cordelia sighed and set down her glass.

“Yes.”

The word hit harder than anything else.

Not denial.

Not confusion.

Confirmation.

Logan’s voice dropped, sharp and controlled.

“Then start talking.”

For a moment, Cordelia said nothing.

Then she gestured for him to sit.

“I was hoping,” she said quietly, “that you would never remember that night.”

“I didn’t,” Logan snapped. “That’s the problem.”

Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe. Or regret.

“Logan… you weren’t supposed to.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Logan leaned forward, his voice like steel.

“Is that child mine?”

Cordelia closed her eyes briefly.

The room tilted.

Logan stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair, pacing once, twice, like a caged animal.

“Then why,” he demanded, his voice rising, “do I not remember the woman who had my child?”

Cordelia didn’t answer immediately.

And that hesitation

That single, fragile pause

told Logan everything was worse than he thought.

“Mother.”

Her gaze lifted to his.

“You were drugged.”

The word landed like a detonation.

Logan went still.

“What?”

“That night,” she said carefully, “someone slipped something into your drink. Not enough to harm you permanently. But enough to…” She hesitated. “Blur things. Memory. Judgment.”

Logan’s mind raced.

Champagne.

Scotch.

The hollow ache of grief.

“And her?” he asked. “Sienna?”

Cordelia’s expression tightened.

“She wasn’t supposed to be involved.”

A cold, creeping feeling spread through Logan’s chest.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Cordelia said slowly, “that the woman you were meant to meet that night… wasn’t Sienna.”

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating.

Logan’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Explain.”

Cordelia stood, walking to the window, her back to him.

“There was a woman,” she said. “From a family we were considering aligning with. A strategic relationship. One that would have strengthened Everett International during a… vulnerable time.”

Logan’s stomach turned.

“You tried to arrange something.”

“It wasn’t unusual,” she said sharply. “Not in our world.”

“It is when I don’t remember it.”

Her shoulders stiffened.

“You were grieving. You were reckless. You were slipping. I made a decision.”

Logan’s laugh was hollow.

“You decided to orchestrate my personal life.”

“I decided to protect our family,” she corrected.

“And Sienna?” he pressed. “Where does she fit into your plan?”

Cordelia turned slowly.

“She doesn’t.”

The words were quiet.

Too quiet.

“She was… a mistake.”

Logan felt something inside him snap.

“A mistake?” he repeated. “She has a child. My child.”

Cordelia’s composure cracked—just slightly.

“That was never supposed to happen.”

“Then what
was
supposed to happen?”

Another pause.

Another hesitation.

“The woman who was meant to be with you that night… died.”

Logan froze.

“A car accident,” Cordelia said. “On her way to the hotel.”

The room went silent.

Every piece of the puzzle shifted.

Rearranged.

Something darker took shape.

“So instead,” Logan said slowly, “I met Sienna.”

Cordelia shook her head.

“No. You didn’t meet her.”

A chill ran down his spine.

“She found you.”

Logan’s heart pounded.

“She wasn’t invited to that event,” Cordelia said. “She wasn’t on any guest list. She wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near you.”

Every instinct in Logan screamed.

“Then how did she end up in my room?”

Cordelia didn’t answer.

And in that silence

Logan understood.

His voice dropped, dangerously quiet.

“You don’t know.”

“No,” she admitted.

For the first time that night, Cordelia Everett looked uncertain.

And that terrified Logan more than anything else.

Morning came without clarity.

Only urgency.

Logan didn’t wait.

By 9:15 a.m., he was standing outside the Austin Community Development Alliance office.

And at 9:17—

He saw her.

Sienna stepped out of the building, the baby in her arms, the older woman beside her.

She froze the moment she saw him.

This time, she didn’t run.

But the tension in her body was unmistakable.

“Don’t,” she said quietly, before he could speak. “Don’t come any closer.”

Not because she told him to.