Chapter 9 Sacrificial Lamb

Alessia’s eyes flickered between Logan and the huddled figures on the sofa.

Her instinct urged her to turn around and flee, to escape the intensity of the room and the piercing gaze of Logan Wilde.

But her escape path was blocked by the imposing presence of the four burly bodyguards in the hallway.

Reluctantly, she took a deep breath and stepped into the room, her eyes meeting Logan’s.

Logan’s gaze fell upon her face, his penetrating eyes seemingly drawn to her lips.

Alessia could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as her mind involuntarily replayed the memory of their earlier kiss.

The urge to shield her lips from his intense scrutiny surged within her, but she resisted the impulse.

With newfound courage, she locked eyes with him, refusing to back down.

In that moment, Alessia’s attention was drawn to his lips—thin, yet undeniably masculine.

The lighting in the room accentuated their vivid shade, akin to the colour of ripe roses.

She tore her gaze away, feeling her cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

This man had a magnetic pull on her, one she couldn’t fully comprehend.

Logan’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, demanding her attention. ‘Come in,’ he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Alessia complied, stepping further into the room, her eyes darting between Logan and the other occupants.

Chief Editor Jeramy, whom she hadn’t realised would be present, stood up with a servile bow, offering a gracious invitation for Logan to join them in their karaoke session.

Alessia’s surprise mingled with a flicker of annoyance.

She had hoped to avoid any further interaction with Logan, especially in front of her colleagues.

Logan dismissed Jeramy’s invitation with a curt wave of his hand, cutting off the man’s obsequious platitudes.

Logan’s gaze settled on Alessia, his voice laced with an undercurrent of command. ‘Now, tell me, who is Lara Morris?’

Alessia’s heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to process Logan’s question.

She hadn’t expected him to inquire about Lara, the reporter who had taken credit for her work.

Her eyes darted toward the other members of the room, her colleagues who had suddenly become silent witnesses to this confrontation.

Alessia owed Lara a debt of gratitude for helping her secure a full-time position at BuzzBeat.

So she kept quiet, refusing to answer the question.

Lara Morris rose from the sofa, attempting to maintain a calm façade despite the rising tension in the room.

Her voice quivered slightly as she spoke, addressing Logan with forced confidence. ‘Mr Wilde, I am Lara Morris,’ she admitted, her eyes meeting his sharp gaze.

Logan’s eyebrow arched in a display of scepticism, his voice laced with a hint of accusation. ‘So, you’re the one who took those pictures of me with Miss Olivia Anderson,’ he stated, his words laden with a silent threat.

Lara’s body tensed, her gaze involuntarily shifting toward Alessia.

The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, the room filled with an atmosphere of uncertainty and unspoken consequences.

Alessia found herself caught in the crossfire, unsure of what to do.

If Alessia confirmed that Lara was responsible for the photographs, it would open the door for potential legal repercussions against Lara.

Logan’s formidable legal team would undoubtedly find ways to exploit the situation, charging her with breach of privacy and other offences.

On the other hand, if Alessia denied it, it would mean exposing Lara’s deceit in front of their colleagues, tarnishing her reputation and credibility.

Apparently realising the same conundrum, Lara subtly shook her head at Alessia, a silent plea for her to remain quiet.

Alessia understood the unspoken message and held her tongue, her expression a mix of hesitation and conflict.

Taking a step closer, Logan’s imposing figure towered over Lara, his commanding presence palpable.

Lara felt herself shrinking beneath his scrutiny, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

Her hand trembled slightly, betraying the internal turmoil she fought to conceal.

She took a deep breath, her voice steady but tinged with a touch of nervousness.

‘Yes, I took those pictures,’ Lara admitted, her words barely above a whisper. ‘And I also wrote the article.’

Logan’s derisive snort reverberated through the room, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of contempt and suspicion.

He pressed further, his tone laced with authority. ‘Where did you take those pictures?’ he questioned, his voice like a razor-sharp blade slicing through the tension.

Lara bowed her head.

Her silence spoke volumes, her inability to provide a response a d*mning confession.

The weight of her deception hung heavy in the air, the truth she tried to conceal now laid bare before them all.

Logan took another step forward, closing the gap between them, his imposing height casting a shadow over Lara.

She felt the weight of his presence, the force of his personality threatening to consume her.

Struggling to regain her composure, Lara spoke slowly, her voice filled with a mix of nervousness and defiance. ‘If the article offended you, Mr Wilde, I apologise,’ she offered, her words measured. ‘But it was based on facts, not conjecture. I reported what I observed.’

Alessia watched the exchange, her heart pounding in her chest.

Logan’s voice sliced through the air like icy steel, his words laden with accusation. ‘How could your article be based on facts when you claimed I was involved with Olivia Anderson, a relationship I knew nothing about?’

Lara’s face paled, her mouth opening to offer an explanation, but Logan’s domineering presence cut her off.

He refused to allow her to speak, demanding to know who gave her the authority to write slanderous fiction about him.

Chief Editor Jeramy, sensing the imminent danger, stepped in to defend one of his most experienced and valuable reporters.

He interjected, his voice tinged with apprehension. ‘Mr Wilde, I understand your concerns, but I must clarify that the photographs were not taken by Lara.’

Alessia’s heart sank as she realised that she was about to become the sacrificial lamb in this precarious situation.

The weight of Logan’s gaze fell upon her, his eyes glinting with a mix of calculation and derision.

She braced herself for the storm that was about to unleash.

However, Logan merely sneered, his gaze shifting to his assistant, Terence.

With a silent exchange of understanding, Terence swiftly took control of the situation.

Terence addressed Jeramy with an air of authority, his voice firm and unwavering. ‘This matter is now between Mr Wilde and Miss Morris,’ Terence declared, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. ‘It’s in BuzzBeat’s best interest for you to remain silent, unless you want the consequences to be severe. The choice is yours.’

Jeramy’s expression contorted with a mix of frustration and fear.

He understood the implicit threat in Terence’s words—the potential of BuzzBeat facing severe repercussions, perhaps even shutting down if they dared to challenge Logan Wilde.

Reluctantly, Jeramy conceded, swallowing his objections and acquiescing to the power that Logan held over them all.

He fell silent, his shoulders slumping with defeat.

Seizing the moment, Logan gave a curt nod to his bodyguards, silently ordering them to take Lara away for a ‘private conversation.’

Alessia’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with the implications of this turn of events.

She couldn’t stand idly by and allow Lara to face the wrath of Logan Wilde alone.

In a sudden surge of defiance, Alessia stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. ‘Hold on just a moment!’