Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 177

Chapter 172: Keeping A Close Eye on Things

Logan’s POV

I thought about that.

Claim

Logan had been in Seattle for over a month. He’d been watching the Preston house. He’d shown up at the party. He’d approached Jennifer in a grocery store and demanded access to Sedona but was turned away. He’d been building a picture of Sedona’s life here, the people in it, the patterns of it. He was someone who was willing to cross certain boundaries just to get what he wanted, and that also meant he was capable of removing the obstacles that he saw in the picture that was stopping him from getting what he wanted.

And I’d been a visible part of that picture.

The daily visits to Sedona at the hospital, and the private walks that we toook in public, on the garden, which anyone could see, and he might have seen if he was aware of where she was admitted and came over to see her.. The garden at the party where i had stood up for her and told him to get lost. The walks.

If Logan had been watching, he’d seen me.

I wasn’t his priority. Cameron had said that clearly-Logan’s focus was Sedona, the divorce, Nick, the elements of his own life he was trying to manage from a position of increasing desperation. I wasn’t the variable he was primarily concerned about.

But I was a variable.

And men in Logan’s position, men who’d been building toward something for months with diminishing results gettung frustrated about not getting what they wanted, which in this case was Sedona,, sometimes started making decisions about the variables they couldn’t control directly.

I didn’t know if that was what this was.

I genuinely didn’t know.

The man in the cars hadn’t done anything. He’d watched, and driven away, and come back, and watched again. That was the behavior of someone gathering information, not someone preparing to act… Which could mean it was nothing-could still be a coincidence, a parent from school, someone with a mundane reason to be parked near those locations, and i was just taking things out of proportions.

Or it could mean the information-gathering phase hadn’t finished yet. And the man was keeping a low profile, just mapping out things randomly in a way that nobody would pay close attention to.

I drank my coffee.

Thought about Drew reading in his room, the careful quiet of him, the way he’d come into the kitchen and told me something accurate with the minimum of fuss and then asked about lunch.

I wasn’t going to let anything happen to my son.

That was the fixed point. Everything else was variable, everything else could be assessed and managed and approached with appropriate uncertainty. But Drew was the fixed point and the fixed point did not

Keeping A Close Eye On Things

move

Claim

Cameron was looking into it. He had resources and contacts and the specific intelligence that came from having managed Sedona’s situation across the past months, from knowing what Logan was and wasn’t capable of, from having a private investigator who already had a file.

I’d let him look. If there was anything important, or significant, he would inform me, and keep me aware. But for now, there was nothing to be done, only that i remain more focused than usual and double checked everything, making sure that it was safe, especially considering the fact that i had a weakness i could not let anything happen to.

I’d keep Drew’s routine unchanged, so that if anyone was watching, they didn’t know they’d been noticed.

And I’d pay attention.

That was what I had to offer. Not Cameron’s resources, not Lucian’s logistical precision about what he thinks might be happening or not just the specific attention I’d been applying to things that mattered for thirty-two years.

Drew was at the top of that list.

Everything else came after.

I finished the coffee.

I looked at the front door and thought about it. I was unsettled and had the urgent need to see Drew and just wanted to make sure that he was fine.

Then I got up and went to the hallway and double-checked the lock, which was already locked, and then went to check on my son.

He was reading.

He looked up when I appeared in the doorway with the expression that meant he’d heard me coming and had been expecting the check. Like he knew how to handle me, and he had been doing it for a long time, which was short considering his very short lifespan.

“I’m okay,” he said preemptively before i could say anything.

“I know,” I said.

“You’re doing the checking thing,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

He looked at his book and then at me. “The man in the car,” he said. “You’re worried about me.”

“I’m paying attention,” I said. “That’s different from worried.”

He thought about this with the seriousness he thought about most things. “Selective worry, you are choosing on what to focus on first in the list, and i come first as usual?” he said.

“Exactly,” I said.

Something crossed his face that wasn’t quite the not-quite-smile but was related to it, a small private

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