His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 333 Straight To The Heart

Ella

The shadows on the ceiling seemed to sway and dance as I lay on the plush bed, the soft linens

providing little comfort to my restless mind. Each tick of the ornate clock on the wall reverberated in my

ears, amplifying my rising anxiety.

But it was the silence that was the loudest of all, the quiet punctuated only by my shallow breaths.

“Can’t sleep?” a familiar voice echoed in the depths of my mind, its tone soft and playful. Ema.

“Hey, Ema,” I whispered out loud to the wolf within me, grateful for the company. She chuffed in

amusement. “You’re thinking about him. I can tell.”

I sighed, turning onto my side, curling up as if shielding myself. “I’m not. I’m just… restless.”

There was a pause, a stillness, before she responded. “Don’t pretend that you’re not worried about

him.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not worried.”

She chuckled, a sound that reverberated through my core. “Ella, after all these years, do you think you

can hide your feelings from me?”

“I’m just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words, my heartbeats quickening. “He could be out there

doing something dangerous right now. He’s always involved in something risky.”

My wolf hummed, a gentle, soothing sound that seemed to wrap around me. “He’s strong, Ella. And

smart. Logan knows how to handle himself.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whispered, my voice catching. “He might push himself too far. What if

something happens?”

There was a soft sigh, one filled with understanding. “He’s been living this life long before you came

into the picture. Trust him.”

Pulling the blankets up to my chin, I tried to push away the rising tide of worry. “I just wish he would

confide in me more. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so afraid for him.”

The wolf’s voice grew tender, maternal almost. “He’s trying to protect you, in his own way. But it’s okay

to be scared. It shows you care.”

I bit my lip, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I just wish I could be there with him, side by side. To

face the dangers together.”

A soft laugh emanated from within. “Your fierceness always did amuse me. But for now, try to rest. You

need your strength.”

“I can’t,” I admitted, my fingers clutching the sheets. There was a beat of silence. “Then maybe you

should do something else. Distraction, can be a useful ally.”

Nodding to myself, I pushed the covers off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The cold

marble floor sent a shiver up my spine, grounding me. Taking a deep breath, I got to my feet and

padded softly towards the window.

Outside, the moon bathed the gardens in a silvery glow, painting everything in ethereal light. The world

seemed peaceful, untouched by the storm that raged within me.

Drawing the curtains back, I decided to take a walk. Maybe the night air would clear my mind, help

calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me.

The silence was almost stifling as I wandered around Logan’s mansion. The high ceilings and grandeur

of the rooms I passed seemed endless, a testament to Logan’s taste for luxury. Every turn revealed

ornate artwork, gilded mirrors, and the kind of furnishings one would see in glossy magazines. But for

all its opulence, the mansion felt devoid of warmth.

In a house as vast as this, one could easily get lost-both physically and metaphorically. My feet made

soft, echoing sounds on the marble floor as I strolled, occasionally stopping to admire a painting or a

delicate piece of sculpture.

Time seemed to lose its meaning, and before l knew it, my stomach emitted an audible growl, pulling

me out of my reverie.

“Of course,” I muttered to myself, “all this exploring made me hungry.”

With a newfound purpose, I began my search for the kitchen. The mansion’s labyrinthine design made

it a bit challenging, but I eventually stumbled upon a massive double door that opened to reveal an

even more impressive kitchen. The counters sparkled with cleanliness, and the steel appliances looked

straight out of a commercial.

I stood there for a moment, absorbing the size and splendor, before a gentle voice broke my thoughts.

“Hello, dear. Lost, are we?”

I spun around to find Mrs. Wentworth standing by the doorway, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her

gray hair was neatly pulled into a bun, and there was a familiar warmth in her eyes that immediately

reminded me of Selina.

“Oh, I… I was just looking for something to eat,” I admitted sheepishly.

Mrs. Wentworth chuckled, her eyes twinkling.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” She motioned for me to sit at one of the stools by the kitchen

island. “Why don’t you let me whip up something for you?”

I hesitated for a moment, but the allure of a homemade meal was too hard to resist. “A sandwich would

be wonderful. Thank you.”

She set to work with practiced ease, pulling ingredients from the fridge and spreading condiments on

soft bread. As she worked, she started speaking, her voice soft and filled with memories. “You know,

I’ve been with Logan’s family since he was a little boy. I watched him grow up, take his first steps, say

his first words.”

I leaned forward, intrigued. “He must’ve been a handful.”

She chuckled. “Oh, he was always a sweetheart. Always full of laughter and mischief. But that all

changed when his mother passed away.”

My heart ached at the thought of a young Logan losing his mother. “How did he change?”

Mrs. Wentworth sighed, looking distant. “He was always so happy, always with a smile on his face.

After the tragedy, he became so… serious. It’s like a part of him was taken away with her.”

A somber silence hung between us, filled only by the soft rustling of her making the sandwich.

“But lately,” she continued, her tone a bit brighter, “ever since he met you, I’ve noticed that his smiles

are returning. It’s as if a piece of the old Logan is back.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Me? I doubt I had any effect on him.”

Mrs. Wentworth handed me a plate with the sandwich and shook her head, her gaze sharp and

knowing. “Don’t sell yourself short, dear. The way he looks at you, the way he talks about you… He

must really love you.”

My cheeks burned, the heat rising rapidly. I tried to laugh it off, but it came out a bit strained. “Love is a

strong word. Maybe it’s just infatuation.”

Mrs. Wentworth took the stool next to mine, her expression stern yet gentle. “Ella, I’ve seen Logan with

many women over the years, but none like you. If he didn’t truly care about you, he wouldn’t have

brought you here, to his sanctuary, to keep you safe while he’s out handling his business.”

I stared down at the sandwich, lost in thought, the weight of her words settling around me. All this time,

I had convinced myself that our connection was fleeting, merely a result of circumstances. But Mrs.

Wentworth’s observations added a new layer of complexity to it all.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wentworth,” I murmured, not just for the meal but for the unexpected insight into

Logan’s world.

She patted my hand, a smile spreading across her face. “Eat up, dear. And remember, sometimes the

heart sees what the eyes cannot.”