A creak on the floorboard made my breath catch. The door opened slowly, and a tall figure slipped inside. A star of light caught his face, and I tensed.

“Grace?” Logan stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

He walked toward me, and my muscles grew more strained at his nearness. “You’re not fine. I was watching you downstairs. Something has happened.” He stopped a few feet from me, and I stared up at him.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it bloody matters,” he snapped, and took another step toward me. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Where’s Maia?” I said instead.

“With Shannon and Cole. Stop changing the subject.”

“My name isn’t Grace Farquhar,” I blurted out.

In the dim glow of light I saw his eyes narrow. “What the fuck?”

“I mean it is Grace, but it didn’t used to be. I used to go by Gracelyn Bentley. Only Aidan, Chloe, and Juno know that. Now you.”

“Grace,” he whispered, concern deep in his voice. “I don’t understand.”

“Have you heard of Gabriel Bentley?”

“The guy with the media empire?”

“Yes.” I don’t know why I was telling him. Perhaps I was a glutton for punishment – confiding in a man, seeking affection from him, when I knew there was no hope of its real return. “He’s my father, Logan.”

“Jesus,” he said hoarsely, and took another step toward me. “What…?”

“He was always busy, always working, never had time for me, only for Sebastian, whom he was grooming to take his place in the business. He was a little old-fashioned that way. I gather he never thought I’d be of much use in business because he never bothered with me.” I gave a huff of bitter laughter. “I wish my mother had been the same, but unfortunately her neglect came with a constant stream of criticism. I wasn’t a size zero. I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, witty enough, fashionable enough. I was boring. I was pathetic. I should never have been born.” My breath caught, remembering the day she’d said that to me. “I was never good enough, Logan. And I wish it didn’t still bloody well… hurt.” My voice cracked on the last word as tears spilled down my cheeks.

Suddenly Logan had lowered to his haunches in front of me, one hand on my knee, the other cupping my face as he stared at me with growing concern.

I shook my head, unable to stop the flow of tears or the feeling of being transported back to how I’d felt at twenty-one years old, when my whole world seemed to collapse around me. “I’m sorry.” I sobbed. “I just… I’m sorry.”

He pulled me toward him, and I buried my head in the crook of his neck, the pain that had been pressing on my chest pouring out of me as I cried. Logan’s hand tightened on my nape.

“You’re scaring me, babe,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me what’s going on. Please. Let me fix it.”

I shook my head and eased away from him, but he refused to let me go. “You can’t help.”

“Try me.” He cupped my face in both hands now, and his thumbs swiped gently at my wet cheeks.

Just like that I got lost in his eyes. “My parents were in the newspaper today. There hasn’t been a press release from them yet, but inside sources are saying that my mother has breast cancer. She’s fighting breast cancer.”

“Shit.” Logan eyes filled with sympathy. “They didn’t tell you.”

“They didn’t tell me,” I confirmed. “Clearly they don’t want me there. But do you want to know the truth?”

He nodded solemnly.

“I don’t even know if I want to be there for her. She made me feel worthless my whole life. Between my father’s indifference and her cruelty, I was a bit of a mess as a teenager. When I got to university Aidan suggested I talk to someone… a therapist. So I did. And it really helped. It really did. So I thought when I went home I’d be able to cope better. But I made the mistake of taking my boyfriend home with me after I graduated. We’d met in my last year at school. I’d thought myself very much in love with him.” I remembered it. The utter soul-destroying pain of it. “I was supposed to be out meeting up with an old school friend. He stayed behind at the house. But my friend canceled, so I came home early…”

“Oh fuck,” Logan whispered, and I heard the empathy, the pain he felt for me.

“It’s such a cliché.” I swiped at my tears, throwing him a bitter smile. “The mother sleeping with her daughter’s boyfriend. She told me afterward that she did me a favor. That he would never have stuck with me in the long run because I wasn’t good enough. She was saving me the heartbreak of getting in too deep with him. I was so enraged I told my father.”

Logan tensed.

“Yes. Vengeful little me. I wanted to ruin her. I wanted to take everything from her. But my dad didn’t care.” I shook my head, more tears welling up. “They’d been having affairs for years. Sebastian was the one who told me. He spilled that as he acerbically told me to get my head out of my arse and in the real world. I was too soft, he said. I needed to grow up and grow a pair.

“I hated them. All of them. I hated the way they made me feel, and I hated that I wanted to hurt them for hurting me. I didn’t want to become like them.”