My heart was hammering in my chest. It was Friday morning and I was quickly running out of time. I'd contacted the number the man had given me and once he responded, the plan was set in motion. I couldn't breathe and I certainly didn't have an appetite at breakfast.

I pushed my food around with my fork, ignoring Logan's watchful gaze. I'd kept my distance this week, not bothering to start conversation with him like I usually did. I was brief with my responses to both him and his staff. I was betraying all of them and I knew by the end of the day, those that were still alive would hate me.

"What is it?" Logan finally snapped when he finished his meal and I was yet to touch mine.

I frowned. "Nothing," I muttered.

His scowl deepened and he folded his arms across his chest, ignoring the maids as they gathered the plates. "You've been unusually quiet all week," he snapped, "and now you're not eating. So, spill Mia, what is it?"

I swallowed the lump lodged in my throat. "It's nothing," I repeated, looking away from his scrutinizing eyes.

He furrowed his brows. "Don't make me ask again," he growled.

My stomach twisted when I turned back to him, feigning defeat. "It's my mother's birthday," I lied, the taste of the words bitter in my mouth. "I always visit her grave on her birthday and take her flowers."

At least that part wasn't a lie. I did always take flowers to my mother's grave on her birthday, however, that wouldn't be until the summer. Logan narrowed his eyes at my statement and I huffed, rolling my eyes at him. "Just forget it," I hissed. I rose from my seat and marched out the room, forcing tears into my eyes. Relief flooded through me when I heard his heavy footsteps following behind me and his hand enclosed around my wrist.

"Mia," he called. I turned back to him, my expression morphing into one of sorrow. I saw his eyes soften a little and the guilt burned in the back of my throat. He studied me for a moment and I did the same, both of staying silent. "I have an errand to run this afternoon," he eventually stated, "we'll stop off on the way."

I couldn't help but feel surprised. "You mean it?" I asked him. I'd been hoping he'd agree, but there was a large part of me that doubted it. He'd given in to so many of my demands lately, allowing me to visit my sister in the hospital and then giving me my phone so I could call her. I knew there was a chance he'd reach his limit and start to push back again.

"What flowers does she like?" He asked, surprising me further, "I'll send someone to fetch them."

I felt myself well up. "Yellow roses were her favourite," I told him, a small, grateful smile on my face. I hated that he'd soon be regretting his kindness. He'd soon hate me.

He left me standing in the foyer, watching him walk away to his office without another word. Once he'd shut himself inside, I went to my room, keeping my eyes down to avoid Gavin's questioning gaze. I finally breathed a sigh of relief when I was inside, sending off a text to confirm the plan before I lost my nerve.

Today was the day. I kept reminding myself that I was protecting my sister. If I didn't pull this off today, I would lose her. And that wasn't an option.

The hours ticked by pretty slowly and the nerves only built until I was sick from the anxiety churning in my stomach. I hated that I had to do this. I hated that, no matter how much I wished otherwise, I didn't want to see Logan dead anymore. But my sister's life was on the line and I would never choose anyone over her, especially not my kidnapper.

I roamed the house, gathering everything I needed. The guards no longer paid me any attention; they were used to seeing me wonder around. I was back in my room and changed not long before Logan knocked on the door. He entered a moment later and I felt like I was punched in the chest. He held a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand and pushed them towards me. "Are these okay?"

Tears welled in my eyes at the sight. "Perfect," I told him. Those flowers had always decorated my home when my mother was alive. After she died, my father couldn't bring himself to buy them again and the only time I saw them was when we visited her grave. Yellow was always her favourite colour, she said it reminded her of the sun, bright and warm. "Thank you."

"We won't stay long," he warned, sending a pointed look in my direction. "We'll stop off and you can put the flowers down and then I'll have one of my men bring you home."

I only nodded, following him from the room and downstairs. Outside, there were cars everywhere and guards moved between the vehicles. "What's going on?" I asked Logan, recognising Gavin amongst the crowds of men.

He turned to me briefly. "Like I said, I have business to attend to."

My stomach twisted. Every man was heavily armed and I could see Logan's own gun tucked into his jacket. Whatever he was about to walk into, he was prepared. Or at least he thought he was. He had no idea what was actually in store for him.

"They aren't all coming with us, are they?"

He simply nodded and I frowned. "Logan, it's a cemetery. Its disrespectful to have your guards trampling all over the dead.

He shrugged. "I don't care about the dead; I care about the living."

"Well, I do," I stated. "Please, no guards."

He frowned, staying quiet while he moved towards the nearest vehicle and opened the door. He gestured for me to get inside and I nodded, sliding along the backseat before he followed. Two men climbed into the front of the car and with a single nod from Logan, every vehicle started up. We pulled away after another couple of cars and followed them through the large gates. When we reached the other side of town, my palms began to sweat and I jumped at the sound of crackling and soft voices before Logan spoke up. "Yes," he said and I turned to see a device in his ear. The two men in front of us were also wearing them and I imagined the rest of the men were too.

The car in front of us pulled over, not far from the cemetery and one hundred yards down the road, the one behind did too. I frowned in confusion and turned to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "They're waiting for me," he explained. "The rest will meet me once we're done here." As he spoke, he nodded and I turned towards the window, watching the cemetery come into view.

I couldn't stop my legs from shaking when the car slowed to a stop. I held the bouquet in my hand so tightly, my knuckles turned white. I was sweating from head to toe. If this didn't go right, my sister would be the one to pay. I couldn't fail. With that in mind, I stepped out the car. Logan followed and so did the two men from the car. I frowned, opening my mouth to protest when Logan glared at me. "They're coming with us," he stated, leaving no room for argument.

I nodded with a sigh, hoping to God that it wouldn't matter. I knew that this man was bringing enough man power to make sure Logan couldn't fight his way out so hopefully two more men wouldn't make a difference.

I couldn't see straight as we walked through the silent cemetery, jumping at every crunch of a twig or bird rustling the leaves. I couldn't look at Logan, focusing on the names on the gravestones until I reached my mothers. I crouched before the slab of granite, allowing the tears to fall down my cheek. My mother's resting place was about to become a war zone.

And, as if on cue, I heard the familiar click of a gun. "Logan."