18
Giada
I heard every word—heard Logan slam the door behind him. My throat swelled tight, and I eased my bedroom door shut, resting my forehead against it.
No one had ever stuck up for me in the way he had. No one had sung my praises beyond my beauty and ability to move in front of a camera.
What Father saw as stubborn rebellion, Logan saw as positive traits. He saw the real me, the motivated woman driven to live her own life. He hardly knew me, but he knew me.
And yet he left at the mention of a broken deal made between my father and the Vipers.
Obviously, his feelings for me weren’t enough to trump the brotherhood he’d been a part of for over ten years. A sob caught in my throat as twin tears slid down my cheeks.
“Giada Burtonelli!” Father’s voice sounded outside my room, and I j
