From Betrayed Luna to Wolf Queen (Lillian) novel Chapter 85

CHAPTER 85

A woman from the marketing department who had been passing through the lobby paused near the counter, a stack of folders tucked under her arm. She looked at Logan, then at Jessica, then back at Logan.

“What’s going on?” She adjusted her glasses with obvious curiosity.

“Just another lost tourist.” Tyler grinned, leaning back even further in his chair. “Wandered in thinking he could meet the executives. We should put up a sign. Imperial Group is not a zoo. Please do not tap on the glass.”

The marketing woman laughed. A sharp, short sound that echoed off the marble walls. “That’s what happens when the lobby looks too inviting. Every stray in the city thinks they can just walk in and shake hands with the CEO.”

“At least strays are cute sometimes.” Another employee, a young woman carrying a coffee tray, paused to join the conversation. “This is more like a moth flying into a spotlight. It doesn’t know where it is, it doesn’t know how it got here, and it’s going to get burned if it stays too long.”

Laughter rippled through the group.

Logan stood at the counter, his face perfectly calm, his hands resting at his sides, his eyes quietly cataloging every face, every name badge, every word being spoken by employees of the company he had built with his own hands.

None of them knew.

None of them had any idea that the man they were comparing to a stray dog and a moth was the same man whose signature sat at the bottom of every major contract this company had ever executed. The man whose vision had turned a single room into a global empire. The man whose name was written on the deed to the building they were standing in.

Logan picked up the visitor form from the counter. He looked at it for a moment, then set it back down.

“I think I’ll stay a little longer.” His voice was quiet. Pleasant. Completely unreadable.

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself. But don’t expect anyone important to come talk to you. People who matter don’t waste their time on people who don’t.”

Logan moved toward the plastic chairs near the service entrance. He sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and folded his hands in his lap.

Every employee in the lobby assumed the show was over. They returned to their screens, their phones, their coffee trays, their comfortable routines of sorting visitors into categories based on the cost of their clothing.

None of them noticed the way Logan’s eyes moved through the lobby with quiet, methodical precision, studying every interaction, every smile offered to the rich and every sneer directed at the ordinary.

None of them realized they were being watched by the one person in the building who had the power to end their careers with a single phone call.

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