Ella
The tension in the room was still palpable, and I felt like I was stuck at the center of it all, caught in between approval and disapproval from my loving parents.
But what my dad did next shocked me—and all of us, really—to my core.
My dad extended his hand across the table, palm up, eyes still locked onto Logan. Logan stared down at his outstretched hand, clearly trying to decide if this was genuine or some sort of trap.
“Look,” my father said, seeming to sense Logan’s trepidation. “I’ve been in business long enough to know a good prospect when I see one, and you seem like a good young man with decent intentions. I’ll give you that.”
Logan hesitated, eyeing my father’s hand like it was a loaded gun. “Thank you, sir,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard. But he reached out an
