Why did she only ever show him this side of herself?

When she found herself seeking comfort from the last person she wanted to open up to, Bella knew she couldn’t bear it any longer.

Her shoulders trembled. The rims of her eyes quickly reddened.

“Don’t force yourself to hold it in.”

He was cruelly kind.

Even when she tried to abandon all desire, he made her hope without realizing it.

“You can be honest in front of me.”

That was the final link.

At last, Bella lowered her head and broke into tears.

“I was so—so scared…”

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the sound, but the tears would not stop. A broken sob slipped through her teeth.

“I couldn’t even argue with him… He threatened me, so I couldn’t scream… I couldn’t run…”

She recounted the terror she had experienced at that moment and how it had paralyzed her with fear.

Any remaining dignity she had was gone. There was no restraint.

Logan said nothing.

He stayed beside her as she wept. He did not reach for her. He kept his distance, waiting in silence until she had released all the emotions she had suppressed for so long.

How much time had passed?

Gradually, her sobs began to fade. Her breathing slowly steadied. Bella wiped her tear-soaked eyes with the back of her hand and took a long, trembling breath.

“I’m alright now. After I cry like this… I feel better.”

Her eyes were still red, but she was looking at him steadily.

In that moment, Logan sensed an unyielding, quiet strength within her.

Perhaps it was that very resilience which had enabled her to endure the lonely count’s estate and the senseless cruelty she had suffered there without ever understanding why. In a place where she had no one to depend on, she must have learned to depend only on herself.

He looked at her, noting the faint tear stains still marking her cheeks, her swollen eyes, and her lashes heavy with lingering moisture.

The sight of her stirred something deep inside him, causing a painful tightening in his chest.

“I’ll step out for a moment.”

He stood up and spoke briefly.

Bella did not stop him.

He walked straight into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Standing in front of the mirror with one hand braced against the sink, he stared at his reflection.

“Bastard.”

The curse left him with a low, loathing and furious murmur. A sharp, unwelcome sensation coiled in his abdomen. He despised himself for feeling even the slightest hint of arousal at the sight of a crying woman.

***

When Logan returned from outside, the night air clung faintly to him, along with the bitter scent of cigarette smoke that had become trapped in the hem of his coat.

“Jack Hunter was handed over to the capital police immediately after the ball. A formal investigation has begun.”

He had just received the report from his secretary and relayed the situation briefly to Bella.

“The police may come to ask for your statement soon. If you’d prefer not to speak to them in person, Vincent can prepare a formal statement based on what you’ve told me. Remember, you don’t have to force yourself to relive it if it’s too painful.”

His voice was measured and almost devoid of emotion.

But his consideration for her was clear.

Bella lowered her gaze as she listened.

Although she had felt better after opening up about her fear, the suffocating panic had not entirely disappeared.

Whenever she thought about what had happened at the masquerade ball, she could still feel her breath shorten. Her hands trembled involuntarily.

Yet Bella lifted her head.

“I’ll give a statement.”

She clasped her trembling hands together tightly. She didn’t want to be someone who always ran away because she was scared.

This time, more than ever, she had someone who believed in her: the duke.

The duke had promised to support her.

For the sake of the man who had put himself in danger to save her, she could not back down.

“I’m still scared… but I want him to be punished.”

Her eyes met Logan’s.

They shone with quiet resolve.

Although she spoke softly, her determination was clear.

“All right.”

Logan acknowledged her decision.

Despite her fragile appearance, she had an indomitable spirit.

“I’ll protect you.”

***

“What the hell is this?”

The study door burst open as Vincent stormed in.

He flung a crumpled newspaper down in front of Logan.

“So you cause a scene and then dump all the troublesome aftermath on me?”

Vincent exhaled sharply, his face flushed as though last night’s alcohol had yet to leave his system.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for your lawyer to be hearing about this?”

In contrast, Logan was sitting by the window, leisurely folding the same newspaper that Vincent had torn in half. He looked up at Vincent, showing no sign of agitation.

“I consider myself a rather quiet employer.”

He was still wearing the same shirt as the previous night, with his tie loose and partially undone. Judging by his appearance, it seemed likely that he had been drinking until dawn, read the morning paper and come straight here.

“If you’ve read the paper, then sober up and get to work.”

Logan replied as if discussing someone else’s affairs.

Vincent’s brows shot up. He jabbed a finger at the newspaper.

“A quiet employer? Is that what you call punching someone at a masquerade? And tearing off your mask while you’re at it?”

On the front page was a large photograph of Logan exiting the ballroom. Above it, in bold, sensational lettering, read:

[Duke Logan Fraser Involved in Violence at Masquerade. What Really Happened?]

“Who on earth managed to offend you badly enough that you started throwing punches?”

“A s*xual offender.”

“A s*xual offender? Then he deserved it. But even so, did you really have to step in yourself?”

Vincent could not understand why Logan—who ordinarily had no interest in playing hero—had involved himself personally in something so unnecessary.

“Was it someone you knew?”

Vincent had not attended the masquerade and had not yet received a full account of what had happened. The article concluded with the vague statement that the woman Logan had escorted out remained anonymous. It offered nothing of substance.

Logan stared at Vincent, who had stormed in at daybreak to cause a scene.

Then, almost casually, he spoke.

“Bella.”

“Ha. Over someone who’s barely anything to you—wh—what did you say?”

Vincent, who had been letting out a disbelieving laugh while running a hand through his hair, froze. His eyes widened.

“Bella. The woman Jack Hunter forcibly dragged into a room to *ssault.”

Logan repeated himself, his tone steady despite Vincent’s lingering hangover.

“Should I have simply watched and walked away?”

“No! You did the right thing.”

Vincent’s attitude shifted in an instant.

“Since you understand, get to work.”

Logan pushed a stack of documents towards Vincent, who was still looking stunned.

The report contained all the information required for legal proceedings: Jack Hunter’s injuries; his account to the police; and a full description of the incident.

Vincent flipped through the pages, clicking his tongue as he did so.

“Front tooth, molars extracted, broken nose, two cracked ribs… Six weeks’ recovery, is that it? Anyone would think he’d been hit by a carriage.”

There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Although he wasn’t a sword-wielding knight, Logan had spent years training his body. Beneath his calm, controlled exterior, he possessed more than enough strength and endurance to overpower most men.

After being beaten so thoroughly by someone like Logan, Jack would not be recovering anytime soon.

Claiming he was unfit for detention, Jack had checked himself into hospital. Shamefully, he concealed his own misconduct and instead demanded legal action and compensation for the *ssault inflicted by Logan Fraser.

As Vincent finished reading Bella’s statement, a shadow gradually darkened his expression.

The faint ease he had shown moments earlier disappeared entirely.

He put the report down and looked at Logan.

“Is Bella alright?”

“She couldn’t hide the shock yesterday. She was still anxious. But she’s improved. I’ve arranged a room at the hotel for her safety.”

“She must have been terrified.”

Although visibly concerned, Vincent returned his attention to the report.

Jack Hunter’s behavior was damning: he had tried to marry a woman unaware of his true nature, intending to use her as a servant. When that failed, he resorted to threats.

“He should suffer mentally before his physical pain even begins to fade.”

Vincent muttered something under his breath, the corner of his mouth twisting faintly.

Although he is now known as Fraser Corporation’s legal counsel, he was originally a trial attorney.

With an exceptionally low defeat rate and a distinct enjoyment in dismantling his opponents’ arguments piece by piece, to him, a case where the perpetrator was this obvious was little more than an inevitable game.